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#basically it wasn’t brand name
falled-over · 5 months
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#photos of my guitar my dad posted to his blog years back when he bought it#it’s the most beautiful guitar in the world. it feels warm and alive to play#as you can see in the first two pics it used to have a newer pickup installed on the bottom. luckily he found an era appropriate online#it’s from 82 if you were curious#it says squire on the headstock but it was made on the fender line. they bought squire out and swapped in the name soon after this#but he got it a little cheaper than it was worth at the time because people aren’t as autistic as him and don’t know about production lines#basically it wasn’t brand name#basswood body and dark rosewood on the neck 😋✌️#it’s actually a replication of a ‘62 model! which was 20 years old at the time. mines now twice that. isn’t that incredible#i actually saw a modern fender replication of this exact model in an op shop yesterday#for more or less exactly how much this was bought for#dad finished his blog post by saying he thinks this is better made than the original. and despite not knowing the og i’m inclined to agree#people in the comments of his post are saying that this era was supposed to be something special. hehe. they’re right#i’ve played many guitars. i own this one because my dad collects them and he let me try them all out#and i have a lot of friends who play guitar and ive hung out with them to do so#and i’ve never felt one like mine before or since. it’s so obviously beautiful#when i picked it out i hadn’t played much but i knew right away how good it was. i prefer strat bodies because i can hug my torso around#them without getting poked like a tele and the necks are thinner than acoustics (small hands. bad)#unless we’re talking parlour#love a wee parlour. pa has a little one he got for 30 bucks that’s one of my favourites of his#he’s insanely good at finding deals#he fixes them all up#anyway. the body feels#how would you even describe it#heavy. and alive. warm and wet and still full of sap#i feel like it’s breathing#it’s sort of the only thing that motivates me to be better. i could cry just thinking about it. i want to be good enough to play it
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kiwi-bitchez · 2 months
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The Girlfriend Experience
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Eddie Munson x Reader
Summary: Eddie doesn’t think he’s cut out for dating. Self-resigned to a life of one and done hookups, you’re determined to make him see that he has the capacity to be a worthy companion… for when the right girl comes around. Fake Dating AU, classic corny fic for a fav corny troupe, Stranger Things canon divergent ofc, 18+ smut (see warnings below), big dick energy but also slightly emotionally unavailable!Eddie, yada yada yada, you know the drill. 
Content warnings: AFAB reader with she/her pronouns, use of y/n, alcohol, smoking the devil’s lettuce, mention of panty stealing, food consumption, semi-public sex, fingering, PIV, Dom-ish!Eddie, oral (m and f receiving), pierced dick Eddie because I said so!, unprotected PIV sex, hair pulling, mild angst but nothing too angsty just like one heated conversation and Eddie feeling a little worthless but happy ending I promise
Word Count: 20k ahhhhhh!!!
A/N: Thanks to all those who comment and reblog! Your feedback and engagement makes my heart soar and keeps me motivated to write this filth! Sorry for the gargantuan length, in very-me fashion I always ending up writing one behemoth fic every so often rather than just separating it out into chapters. Also, realizing after the fact that I use the brand name ‘Goodwill’ a lot in this fic, which maybe not everyone might know is a thrift store, not sure if that’s just an American thing or not but figured it was worth noting. 
“I guess I’m just not boyfriend material, ya know?” Eddie shrugs.
“Don’t say that, Eds,” your eyebrows pinched together, “different qualities are important to different people. Not everyone is looking to date a Steve, or a Brian, or a whoever. I’m sure someone is out there looking for an Eddie.”
“It’s not that,” he shot a look towards Steve, who, despite your analogy, was unfortunately everyone’s type and the textbook definition of boyfriend material.
“I just don’t think I’d be very good at gooey romance stuff, or even like, passable boyfriend behavior. I mean, look at me, I hardly take care of myself, I’m loud, I have no money, I’m basically every dad’s worst nightmare, do I need to keep going?”
“The nightmare thing can actually be a bonus,” Steve chimes in, “the whole bad boy persona can be a huge draw for most girls.”
“Sure Steve,” Eddie’s voice grows exasperated, “I’m the mysterious bad boy until they realize I’m a huge loser who runs not one but two dungeons and dragons groups. Real fuckin’ attractive I’m sure that is.”
“Shows you’re committed to something…” you trail off when his eyes tell you to stop coming up with a positive spin for every excuse he gives. 
This whole discussion had started because of something that happened at the bar last night. A small group of you decided to meet up for drinks, your usual group of pals. It was a Thursday, so the bar wasn’t too busy. Your friends all squished into a booth in the corner, chatting and catching up over a plate of shared nachos, when Robin started making frantic gesture at you and Steve.
“Please just say what you’re trying to say instead of this elaborate charade,” Steve makes a few mocking hand signals back at her.
“Okay, one at a time, and keep it subtle,” her voice lowered to a whisper, for some reason, “over at the bar, some girl is totally flirting with Eddie.”
You and Steve both turn around. “I said not at the same time!” She whisper yells. 
There was, in fact, a pretty girl with shiny hair and glossy lips doing a half fake laugh and pressing her manicured hand to Eddie’s bicep. You whip back around to find Robin with her mouth hanging open in a “can you believe this is happening” way. 
“Good for him,” Steve swivels back around too, “She’s pretty hot.”
You return to your nachos, pretending there wasn’t a ping of jealousy in you. Eddie was your friend, that had been made abundantly clear.
When Robin introduced you to all her friends from high school, you had easily gotten along with all of them. You especially got along with Eddie. He was funny, authentic, abrasive at times, but a truly good person at his core, creative, protective, you could go on.
After getting to know him a bit, and developing a budding crush, you had made a few passes at him. Nothing too forward, just small compliments here and there, open ended offers to hang out that never lead anywhere.
It’s not like he flat out rejected you, but any feelers you were putting out to see if there was potential there were met with him looking past your flirtatious intent and just being his goofy, friendly self. He treated you exactly the same way he treated everyone else, which was awesome, except for when it wasn’t. 
“Oh no,” Robin’s gaze was not subtly fixed on the unfolding scene at the bar, you and Steve watched her face drastically shift from confused, to a cringe, to an eye roll.
Still half whispering, as if Eddie could even hear your corner of the bar, “He’s totally blowing it. DON’T both turn around at the same time again.” 
“Okay, so,” she starts before either of you can even confirm that you want to know, “she was totally laying it on thick, like you could see it from all the way back here. And he must have said something off putting, cuz all of a sudden she like went cold on him and pranced away. Shhhhh, okay okay, he’s coming back.”
She was acting as if she wasn’t the only one gossiping. You and Steve were innocent bystanders in all this. 
“WHAT was that?” She immediately blurts out when Eddie returns to his seat, fresh drink in hand. 
You and Steve share a side glance to sigh at Robin’s inability to be subtle, god bless her. Eddie shifts around awkwardly and lets out a forced dry laugh, taking a long sip from his drink before facing the wrath of a curious Robin. 
“Oh, that,” he gestures to the bar as if she could be asking about anything else, “some girl. Not sure.”
“Not sure? Eddie she was FLIRTING with you,” Robin all but yelled, causing Steve to scan the bar to see if the girl in question had landed somewhere within earshot. 
“I know that,” he hisses, “She just… wasn’t my type…”
“Okay sure, hot girl in a tube top and no bra isn’t your type, riiiiight,” Steve rolls his eyes.
“It’s just,” Eddie was so over this inquisition, “she asked if I wanted to get coffee.”
You, Steve, and Robin all give him a blank stare, trying to decipher what he could possibly have against getting coffee with a hot girl. 
“That’s like,” he gets defensive, detecting the wall of confusion facing him, “something people do on a date. Coffee is serious, and I’m not a very serious guy.”
“What do you mean ‘coffee is serious,’ coffee is like, as casual as you can possibly be?” Steve’s tone now emulated Robin’s from earlier, half whispering, half yelling, all scolding towards his friend. 
“That’s just not really my speed. Coffee dates and flowers and hand holding and all that,” he was avoiding eye contact with all three of you, “Yeah, she was hot, sure, and maybe if she had been like ‘hey lets go fool around in the bathroom’ then I wouldn’t be here having this lame ass conversation with you three. But I don’t do coffee dates, so I’m not gonna waste her time and pretend like I’m that sort of guy when I’m just not.” 
“Well good on you for not leading her on, cuz I’m sure you could have agreed to the coffee date and still gotten lucky in the bathroom,” Steve mumbles, and you smack the back of his head lightly to scold him. 
“So you only date girls who’ll fuck you in a bar bathroom the first time you meet?” You redirect your now equally scolding energy to Eddie.
“No!” He runs his hands through his hair, “I don’t date. Anyone, really. At all. Ever.”
“Oh,” you think for a minute, realizing in your few years of friendship you never had seen him with anyone, or heard him mention a romantic interest of any sort. 
Leading you to your present conversation, you and Steve continuing to question Eddie on his decision to reject the hot tube-top girl at the bar and why he felt like coffee was such a scary commitment. 
“You guys know me,” he continued to defend his stance, “If I took that girl out for coffee she probably would have picked some fancy hoity toity place and I wouldn’t know what anything on the menu meant, I’d probably spill something or like, get crumbs everywhere, and the bill would be way more than two coffees should be. It would have been a waste of both our time.”
He was staunchly refusing eye contact with the two of you, knowing he’d be met with something along the lines of pity. 
“Fine, we’ll drop the subject,” you shoot a look to Steve, “but I just need to make sure you understand that not every girl likes expensive coffee, or flowers and handholding, or whatever your expectation of girls and dating is. There’s plenty of girls who have similar interests to you, who feel the same way about PDA and mushy romance stuff that you do. You do know that, right?”
“Of course I do, y/n,” you could practically feel his eyes rolling at you, “but girls like that sure as fuck aren’t here in Nowhere, Indiana. Even if she was, I’m sure I’d still find a way to fuck it up given that I’ve had exactly zero serious girlfriends and the closest thing to a date I’ve ever been on is when you me and Steve pooled our ski ball tickets to win that ugly stuffed turtle.”
The memory of what you had all agreed to be the world’s ugliest stuffed animal caused all of you to crack a smile. Steve had silently agreed to change the subject, not wanting to dig Eddie any deeper into his pit of self despair. 
Steve’s mouth was half open, about to suggest that the three of you have a smoke and watch one of the rental movies he brought over, the words just about to escape him when you harshly cut off any chance at ending the pity-party.
“Date me!” You exclaim, without much thought. The shocked look from both boys caused you to rapidly back pedal , “You can date me, as practice!” You said it as if it was the simplest concept in the world. 
When met with gaping mouths and confused stares you continue on, “You and I can be fake boyfriend-girlfriend for like, a month, and I’ll tell you everything you do wrong, and like generic do’s and don’t’s, so that way the next time some hot girl hits on you, you can be all like ‘Coffee isn’t really my thing pretty lady, but I’d be down to get drinks sometime’,” you did a silly impression of Eddie’s voice, and then switched to a high pitched one to impersonate what you assumed the girl at the bar sounded like, “and then she’d be all like, ‘Oh yeah that sounds greaaaaat, getting coffee is just like, a generic catch-all thing that most people say when they want to get to know someone better, but you can buy me a drink’ and then the two of you will ride off into the sunset and it’ll be great.”
Still no reply.
“It won’t be all romantic and gooey, I promise I won’t make you do anything you don’t want to. It’d be a way for you to get some honest feedback and catch up with the stuff most people have to learn the hard way.” 
“I suppose you are the most brutally honest person I know,” Eddie doesn’t sound convinced. 
Steve just looked between the two of you with eyebrows raised, not knowing if giving his opinion on the matter would be appreciated or not. “I guess I would’ve appreciated someone telling me that most girls don’t want to be asked out with a pickup line from a John Hughes movie, would have saved me a few dozen rejections.”
“I’m pretty sure Robin did tell you that…”
“I don’t know y/n,” Eddie scratches his head. 
“It’ll be easy. Ask me out.”
“Huh?”
“Ask me out, for practice, ask me out on a date like I’m a pretty girl you met at some metal show or a DnD convention or something like that,” you stand in front of him with your hands out as if to prompt him to say something. 
“Will you go out with me?” He sounds more like he’s asking himself if he even wants to be asking the question.
“No.”
“What the hell!” He throws his hands up.
“I said no because that wasn’t a very good effort. Go out where? To do what? You’re asking me, a pretend stranger, out on a date Eddie, not if I want to go have a smoke with you.”
“Ughhhh,” he spun around and tried to get some sympathy for Steve, who unfortunately was on your side with this one. 
“A compliment or two doesn’t hurt as well,” Steve added, deepening Eddie’s groan. 
“Hey pretty stranger lady,” his voice was laced with sarcasm, but at least it wasn’t disdain, “you seem really…” he hesitated to find his words, “cool? Would you like to come see my band play this weekend at The Hideout? We-“
“No,” you cut him off.
“WHA-“
“Eddie, you can’t ask a girl to watch Corroded Coffin play for your first date with her, that’s like date four or five material, no girl wants to go sit by herself at a bar to watch some guy she just met play an hour of heavy metal. She would have to know you a little bit more for that to feel organic. Pick something more generic, like coffee.”
“I think you seem cool, would you like to get coffee with me?” it all came out as one monotone mumble from him. 
“Sure,” you wait for him to lift his head up to make eye contact with you, “But coffee isn’t really my thing, maybe we can go out for drinks?”
“Oh fuck off,” he flopped back onto the couch next to Steve. 
“See, now we have our first fake date, and then you can ask me to be your fake girlfriend, and then you’ll be so comfortable with emotional vulnerability that you can find a real girlfriend to take on real dates.”
“Yeah, I suppose it could be beneficial,” Eddie was slowly coming around to the idea. He knew that he was oddly charismatic at times, but he was just always too self conscious to follow through with the whole romance thing.
This maybe wasn’t a bad idea, because he knew you weren’t the kind of person who would make fun of his hobbies, or put him down if he slipped up, the sorts of things he was always afraid of girls doing. Sure, he’ll agree to the girlfriend experience. 
After a night of movies and pizza with Steve fake-third-wheeling, you made sure Eddie knew that the fake-date was actually happening, that the two of you would go out for drinks this weekend as your first official practice date. 
After giving it a bit of thought, you realized that you and Eddie had never hung out alone. In your feeble attempts at flirting with him all those months ago you had invited him to have movie nights or grab a bite to eat, but he always showed up with Steve and or Robin in tow.
As the night of the fake-date rolled around, you’d be embarrassed to admit it to him, or Steve, who didn’t care to hide how skeptical he was about this whole idea, that you went through your normal pre-date routine. You took some extra time on your hair and makeup, exfoliated in the shower, chose an outfit you felt confident in, added a few spritz of perfume for good measure too. 
Eddie rolled up in his van, only a few minutes late, but a few minutes was very impressive compared to his typical chronic tardiness. The two of you agreed to just grab some food and drinks at your usual spot, considering you and Steve openly agreed that it would be a good first date spot in theory. 
“Hey,” he reaches across the center console to pop the door open for you, “you look nice.”
It took you a second to register as you settled into the passenger seat, and then whip around with your arm outstretched to give him a high five. He scrunches his face at you.
“High five me Eddie, that was really good! I know you usually open the door for me anyways, but the compliment right away, A+,” you flop your hand down to gently slap his, still gripping the steering wheel. 
“Don’t patronize me, y/n,” deep down he knew you weren’t trying to talk down to him, and deep down he hadn’t even given complimenting you a second thought, he really did think you looked great in your date get-up. 
On the ride over to the bar, the two of you discuss some logistics. Considering all of this is just practice dating, you don’t expect Eddie to pay for you, but you explain that in theory if he had been the one to ask you out then he should be the one to pay for the first date. 
“To me it’s less of a gender thing and more of a who asked out who thing, but I know some people would abide to the stereotypical ‘the man always pays’ standard, which is why you’d just have to be honest on date like two or three about what you enjoy doing and what sorts of things are in your budget. You can still have fun and be thoughtful without spending a lot of money.”
He asked a few questions, like if he should have gotten you flowers for a first date, or what he should do if someone asks to go to a fancy restaurant that he surely couldn’t afford. You tried your best to give solid advice, but always reminded him that every person is different and every relationship is different, so all he can do is be honest. 
You take up a spot at the bar and both order for yourselves, splitting some fries and slipping into some easy conversation. 
“Am I supposed to, like, beat someone up if a guy tries hitting on you in front of me or something like that?” you nearly choke on your drink at his question. 
“Eddie, no,” you answer, also questioning, “why the hell would you ask me that?”
“I don’t know,” he shrugged, “My buddy Jeff was with his girlfriend at this punk show before they were even together, and some guy made a creepy comment to Amanda and Jeff just decked the guy in the face. He say’s that’s what made her want to date him, cuz he defended her honor or whatever.”
“I guess that’s sort of circumstantial, but I prefer my dates to not engage in any sort of violence,” you sip your drink, “even if it’s for my honor. I’d like your face a lot less if you were all bruised up.”
“Well I never said I would get hit,” the two of you were laughing a bit now.
Over a few cocktails you went over some first date etiquette with him. PDA and being touchy, how to follow her lead and gauge if she’s the type who wants everyone at the bar to know you’re together, or keep it strictly platonic to start. How far of a grip on the leg is too far up, that sort of thing.  
“So if she does something like this,” you fake laugh a bit too loud and, lean into his personal space, and then run your hand from his slender down his arm, “that doesn’t necessarily mean she wants to fuck you, but it’s pretty close. You’ve at least got a green flag to get a little closer to her, tell her she looks nice, maybe offer to buy her a drink.”
“I know how to tell if someone finds me attractive, y/n, I’m not stupid,” he said casually, “obviously that girl the other night was hitting on me, I’m not blind. I wasn’t going to ask to buy her a drink or try and get lucky in the bathroom because I was out with my friends. I can find a quick fuck in a bar on my own time. I was having fun with you guys, I wasn’t going to abandon all of you to talk to some stranger, even if she was hot.”  
“Oh,” you processed his comment, “Steve would be happy to know he ranks above tube-top girl.”
“Steve would be happy to be above tube-top girl in any context,” he jokes. 
“You really just find random girls in bars to fuck?” You question, not in any sort of judgmental way, just curious. 
“Not specifically, I guess I did make myself sound like some serial bar-bathroom type of guy. I never really had girls interested in me when I was in high school, at least the first four years of it. Then when we started playing regular gigs at The Hideout it was a little easier to find girls who were interested, but it was always that they were more into fucking some guy who could play guitar and was in a band, so it usually just always happened on-site, probably cuz they had an actual boyfriend or husband to go home to. Girls think I’m fun. Which isn’t untrue, I do enjoy a romp in the Hideout bathroom, or the back of my van, or wherever we end up.”
“So that’s what all those blankets are back there for,” you say with a fake scowl, referring to his van set-up. 
“Not exclusively! They make a cozy nest for smoking blunts and listening to tapes too!” 
You return to your drink, trying not to think too hard about the girls that Eddie brings to bar bathrooms or his van or wherever. 
“I just find the energy of those situations very different from like, talking and getting to know someone. Fucking is easy. I’m not interested in ruining that by adding emotions and the looming feeling like sex is contingent on me acting a certain way or checking a certain number of boxes for someone.” 
He shrugged, and you could understand where he was coming from, sometimes a quick fuck or hookup could be cathartic and easy. But it also saddened you to think that Eddie believed he had to get in and out before the person on the other end got the chance to know him. 
Moving away from the subject of his inability to be emotionally vulnerable, the two of you practice some cheesy ‘first date’ questions as you had called them. As your drinks started to settle into your system you were having more fun being silly with him, pretending to be a stranger on a first date. 
“When’s your birthday?” You ask, twirling your drink straw with your finger and making some fake flirty eyes at him to accentuate the facade of asking him a bunch of questions you mostly knew the answers to. 
“August 9th,” he flips his hair over his shoulder, joining in on your fake ostentatious flirting. 
“Oh my gosh, a Leo! This will never work out, cuz I’m an asparagus…”
The two of you nearly fall out of your bar stools laughing, realizing you meant to say Sagittarius. 
“Okay, let’s get you home Asparagus,” he helped you up, having kept his drinking to a minimum so he could drive you home. 
“Wait, wait,” you grabbed his arm as the two of you exited the bar, “can we go back to your trailer?”
He raised an eyebrow at you, “that’s a little presumptuous for a first date missy.”
“No, no, this isn’t girlfriend y/n asking, just regular friend y/n, who thinks it would be a lot of fun to smoke and watch a movie without Steve there spewing all his annoying fun facts, like, we get it, you read the little insert inside the tape while you were bored at work!”
Eddie did agree that the idea of packing a bowl and watching a few movies with you didn’t sound too different from what his plans would have been otherwise, so he agreed, as long as you promised not to give him any dating advice while hanging out as friend y/n and not girlfriend y/n. 
Although you promised to try your best, you immediately started lecturing him on t-shirt borrowing and the potential weight that could hold in a relationship when he offered to give you some more comfy clothes to change into. 
“It’s important to know!” You emerged from the bathroom in one of his oversized shirts and a pair of boxers, “Some girls are very touchy about it. Any shirt you lend her to sleep in, you have to be willing to sacrifice for life.”
“For life?!” Eddie finishes making a bowl of popcorn for the two of you, swallowing his words when he sees you in his clothes, an unidentifiable emotion rising in him at the sight of you so cozy and integrated into his space. 
“Well maybe not life,” you plop down onto the couch, “but do NOT ask for it back. Most girls will give it back once it stops smelling like you.”
“If she gets my shirt, can I have her underwear?” He asked without thinking, the weed he had just smoked with you hitting him a bit too hard in that moment. 
“Oh my god,” you squeal and bury your face into a pillow, “la la la la, pretending like I didn’t hear that!”
“I’m just saying!” He laughs at you, now curled up into a ball, “fair is fair, right?”
“I guess it depends on the girl,” you mumble. 
“So I’m guessing not you, by your reaction.”
“Eddie!” You smack him with a pillow, “I don’t know, no one’s ever asked!”
“If my girlfriend isn’t going to ask before stealing my shirt for an indefinite amount of time, I think that gives me panty privilege.”
“Wow Eddie, if I had known you were such a perv I would’ve reconsidered being your fake girlfriend,” you say sarcastically, with no real judgement behind it. The idea of him wanting to steal your underwear dampens them ever so slightly. 
“Don’t worry babe, I won’t do anything pervy to you unless you ask nicely,” he shoots a wink at you, which you meet with an eye roll and a turn away to hopefully hide the heat rising in your cheeks. 
The two of you carry out your platonic movie night as planned. You suppressed any urge to note on his actions from a romantic lens, and he ignored the itching desire to sling his arm around your shoulder or pull your legs into his lap to get more comfy on the couch. 
“Can I sleep here Eddie,” you ask after movie two, “too sleepy to move.”
“Sure, I can take the couch and you can have my bed. It’s been a minute since I washed the sheets but it shouldn’t be too bad…”
“Nonono,” you mumble, “Your legs will totally hang right off the end of this thing. I’m conked out anyways, I can crash right here I promise.”
“Ignoring that you’re my fake girlfriend, I’m not letting you sleep out here on this lumpy thing. You’re taking the bed, no arguments.”
He helps you up from the couch, letting you keep the blanket that’s wrapped around you, snaking his arm underneath it and pulling you from the couch by your lower back. You were slightly taken aback by his assistance, body still limp from your relaxed state, your torso easily arching into his. Your arms fly up to grab his shoulders, steadying yourself with an awkward giggle. 
“In the real world, a time like this would be good for a first kiss,” you make note of your closeness, the way he swept you up off the couch and held you steadily as you made your way to your feet. 
“I know that, y/n,” his face was closer to yours than it had ever been, making your words hitch in your throat. 
“Well, I’m just saying,” you turn your head to avoid the tension, “I’m sure the way you kiss your bar-hookups isn’t the way most girls who’re looking to date you long term want to be kissed for the first time.”
‘Oh yeah? And how do you presume that goes?” He kept his hand planted on your lower back.
You pretend to act wildly drunk, throwing yourself at him and letting your limbs go a bit heavier than they already were. “Ohmygod guitar man, I’ve had like, six dirty Shirleys, please finger bang me in the bathroom,” you slur your words and let your tongue loll out the side of your mouth as if to lean in for the world’s sloppiest and most uncoordinated kiss.
“First of all,” his voice was very serious, “I don’t hook up with girls who are too inebriated to stand, let’s get that straight. As a matter of fact, I wouldn’t even have our first fake kiss like this on account of the drinking and smoking, gotta make sure you’re in the right headspace. Secondly,” 
He spins you around and quickly backs you up against the wall that stood a few feet behind the couch. His hand sliding up in between your shoulder blades, blanket now slumped around your waist, his other hand suavely cupping the side of your cheek, His hips angled into yours, pinning you back against the vinyl, almost collapsing back into it. 
He pressed against you, not aggressively, but enough to let you know that if you were to try and squirm away he had the capacity to keep you right where he wanted you. He accomplished this all in one elegant motion, leaving you a bit dazed.
As you started to snap into reality, he moves his hand from your cheek down to grab your chin in between his thumb and the knuckle of his pointer, angling your face directly up at him. 
“If you were some girl in a bar, it would be like this.”
The moment before your brain turned to absolute mush, you silently cringed at the thought of what you must look like, mouth hanging open, eyes glassed over, body instinctively sinking into his touch. Pathetic, you were sure of it. 
Sure, Eddie did think you looked a little helpless, but he also thought you looked perfect. Exactly as he had imagined you to in this situation. Of course he had thought about you before, like that.
Of course he had felt an immediate spark with you when you had first met. But he never flirted back, or lead you on, because as much as he was attracted to you and enjoyed your company, he knew that it wouldn’t work out. He wasn’t relationship material, and you were the picture perfect girlfriend that he didn’t deserve. 
He spoke directly into your parted lips, mouth hovering just far enough away to toe the line of ‘holy shit, is he going to?’ But no, as he made very clear, he wouldn’t kiss you under these conditions. He had made his point, and slowly backed off and let you find your footing. 
As soon as he was sure that you were steady, he backed away and started down the hallway. 
“I might have an extra toothbrush stashed away somewhere, let me look…” he ducked into the bathroom, leaving you stunned in the kitchen, head swimming and your stomach traveled up into your throat. 
He was teasing you, he must be. That was his little way of getting back at you for thinking you could give him dating advice. If he was unsure about his capacity for romance, he was going to make sure you knew he was more than capable in other ways. Understood. 
You shook your head, weeding through your inner monologue of how he could possibly look at you like that and then just walk away. Your shock gave him just long enough for you to to not notice him splashing cold water on his face in the bathroom while he “looked for a toothbrush.” 
The two of you decided to ignore the lingering tension from the events in the kitchen, not a peep of fake-girlfriend talk from you for the rest of the night. He did find you that toothbrush, and the two of you moved through a too-easy domestic routine of getting ready for bed. 
You told him that you wouldn’t be able to sleep if you knew he was cramped on that couch, and that you were fine with sharing a bed. You mumbled something about  getting around to bed sharing etiquette at some point anyways, and sleepily pulled him into being your little spoon. 
Eddie lay there, trying not to twitch or fidget, relaxed as best he could into your cuddled form thinking about how horrible of an idea all of this was. He was convinced all it would take is roughly ten more minutes of you burying your face into his hair and making cute little sleepy noises for him to fall irreversibly in love with you. 
But what was he supposed to do? Move and wake you up? Never. 
You rolled around enough in the night to wake up in a less intimate position than when you had fallen asleep. You knew Eddie was a deep sleeper, and took it upon yourself to creep out of bed and back into your day clothes, make a pot of coffee, and watc a bit of TV before he roused and joined you in the living room. 
“Why didn’t you wake me?” He rubbed the crust from his eyes and was pleasantly surprised to see you had brewed a whole pot of coffee to share. 
“You looked so peaceful and cozy,” he shook his head at you, as if that was no excuse for letting him sleep an extra forty minutes.  
After a slow morning, he agrees to drive you home. 
“So this is the part where I say ‘Eddie, I had such a wonderful time on our date. I’d love to do it again sometime.’ And then you agree and tell me when you’re free. It’s best to be super direct and make plans to get together again soon, cuz then it’s not an awkward who’s-gonna-call-who-first sort of thing.”
“Uh-huh…” he stares at you blankly. 
“But for our sake, let’s just agree that I’m in charge of planning our next date. Okay? I’ll do it from the perspective of what I think most girls would enjoy, so you can steal it for the future. I’ll call you later.” 
You hop out of his van before he can agree, and leave him with a “Thanks for letting me stay over!” As you bound away from his view. 
He squeezed his eyes shut the moment he caught himself checking your ass out as you walked away, and let his head rest down on the steering wheel. He was fucked. How the hell was he supposed to tell you that you needed to stop being his fake girlfriend without disrupting the homeostasis of your friendship?
On one hand he could lie and say he doesn’t want your advice, making you think he didn’t enjoy your company, which was entirely untrue. On the other hand he could tell you the truth, and you would never be friends the same way again. 
He drove home with the music too loud, and patiently awaited your call later that evening to iron out the details of your second fake-date. 
Per your instructions, he let you pick him up this time with the argument that you were the one taking him out this time. He didn’t know what you had planned, but let himself fall to the mercy of whatever you had decided was an exemplary date fore him to ‘steal in the future’. 
You picked up two coffees and rolled up to the trailer park, popping a mix-tape he had made you ages ago. 
“Hey, I thought we said no paying for each other with fake-dating,” he objects to the coffee sat in the passenger cupholder, some abomination of mostly cream and sugar, the way you know he likes it. 
“Yes, that’s true, but you smoked me up the other night, and this coffee was like a dollar fifty, so don’t worry about it,” you give him a look that tells him to drink the damn coffee and not sass back, to which he complies, even though he smokes you up expecting nothing in return about every other weekend. 
The two of you sip away and listen to Eddies ‘must-know-to-be-my-friend’ mixtape and arrive shortly at the strip mall across town. This was a regular weekly stop for both of you, the strip of connected stores containing the Goodwill, a pet store, the pharmacy, and grocery. A pretty mundane collection. 
“Okay, what are we doing at Greg’s?” Eddie gestures to the grocery store, the back of his mind running through the grocery list he’s been making for this week anyways.
“What’s the perfect date?” You ask, and answer for him, “a romantic picnic. But gathering supplies is half the fun. Picnic food supplies at Greg’s, some pills to get fucked up at the pharm, some turtles or something to let loose into the wild from the pet store, and then hats, cups, blanket, etcetera from the Goodwill.”
He turns to you with the most bewildered stare, which sends you into a fit of giggles.
“Okay, I’m joking about the pills and the turtles,” you nudge his arm, “but won’t it be sweet to get together some picnic supplies and then drive out to lookout point? We can still swing by the pet store to check out the ferrets though.”
To Eddie, the idea of a date involved him doing something he didn’t want to do, some awkward small talk, and spending money on shit he truly thought was useless. This didn’t sound half bad. You would “work backwards so the food purchases come last” according  to your reasoning, and he followed you in tow without any arguments into the Goodwill.
“So I’m thinking…” you start to wander into the aisles of used clothes and knick knacks, “maybe a blanket? A basket would be sort of corny, but if we find one for cheap I don’t see why not. Surely two glasses for drinking, and maybe some sun hats?”
Swiveling back around to see a half stunned Eddie, who was still processing how in the hell this was your idea of a romantic date, you grab his hand and pull him to the bric-a-brac section. 
After it got through his thick skull that the same place he had uncomfortably tried on new pants throughout his growth spurt, and picked up his daily-worn leather jacket, had the same potential to provide some silly, cheap, used items to add some flair to this picnic. 
Silly and cheap was right up Eddie’s alley. The two of you picked out mismatched champagne glasses, one with the engraved name of a couple who got married in 1943 and the other a flashy rose color with baby angel carvings dancing around the sides. 
You luckily find an on sale beach blanket, and the two of you pick out some very goofy sun hats. A floppy farmers hat for you, and a bedazzled trucker hat spelling ‘hot mama’ for Eddie.
Through the midst of your giggles and debate on whether you should buy a wooden bench to bring out to your picnic destination, Eddie found himself having a really good time with you. 
As promised, you visited the pet store and checked out the ferrets and fish and geckos. 
“If you could have any pet, what would you want?” You asked him, noses pressed against the chinchilla enclosure. 
“Jaguar,” he said, a little too quickly.
“For real, dummy,” you knock your hip into his.
“I don’t know, we never had enough space or extra money for pets growing up, so maybe someday if I had enough room for it to run around I’d like a dog or something,” he tells. Eyes still transfixed on the chinchilla behind the glass. 
“I can see that,” you imagine Eddie with some mutt from the shelter, wrestling around and giving it lots of scratches behind the ears. 
Skipping the pharmacy, you pop into the grocery store and assemble what may be the world’s most eclectic picnic. 
“That’s the definition of a picnic, I’m pretty sure,” you explain after Eddie insinuated that the gingersnap cookies you grabbed, along with grapes and a block of cheese, wasn’t exactly a meal, “you know, just a smorgasbord of whatever we want!”
Admittedly, Eddie had considered a handful of pretzels and a beer to be dinner on more than one occasion, so he couldn’t argue with you. Quickly catching your drift, the two of you picked out an assortment of snacks and some ingredients for pb&j sandwiches. 
“I thought picnics were supposed to be classy?” Eddie holds up the Wonder bread and bag of potato chips with a look that suggested his question was rhetorical.
Your response was simply to raise the, admittedly cheap, bottle of champagne you grabbed to accompany with your meal, more for the irony of drinking the bubbly liquid out of your new used glasses with your sticky sandwiches than anything else. 
You pack your supplies into a tote bag, not having found a suitable basket at the thrift store, and drive across town to a dirt paved road that leads to a nice lookout point with a view of the lake. 
“Let’s walk down the path a little bit, but not too far,” you grab the blanket and tote bag from your trunk, motioning for Eddie to put on his ‘hot mama’ hat and carry your other auxiliary supplies, “I do not fuck with bugs.”
“I’ll protect you,” Eddie puffs out his chest, making you both giggle.
“From bugs?”
“Yeah, I’ll punch a mosquito right in the face, to defend your honor and all that.”
“I know I told you not to do that, but a mosquito might be the exception to the rule.”
You found a nice little clearing not far from the car, a spot that still had a nice view but was a bit more secluded. Eddie sat pressed right up next to you, making your sandwich ‘to be a proper gentleman’ but simultaneously spilling a glob of jelly onto your leg.
“Shit,” he doesn’t think twice before leaning down and slurping the grape flavored blob off of your bare knee, tongue poking out and licking the spilt jelly from your skin.
“Eddie!” You squirm away, barking out a surprised laugh. 
“What! Your knee is clean, wouldn’t want to waste perfectly good preserves, or a napkin.”
You feel your skin tingle where his lips had touched you, for only a moment, but you still felt it. He was so confident and casual in his movements, not having any hesitation to grab your hand or brush your hair out of your face. It wasn’t under the guise of fake romance, he had always been like that. Not touchy, per se, just sure of himself. You’d never seen Eddie do anything half assed, that’s for certain.
After the conversation you shared the other night, you were unable to stop your mind from wandering to thoughts of what Eddie does with those girls in bars, if he touched him with the same confidence and sureness he put into everything else he did. 
It was wrong to let your mind go to such dirty places about someone you considered a friend, but you couldn’t manage to feel any guilt. He had offered that information freely, so who were you to punish yourself for staring a little longer at his fingers, conjuring up the context in which he’d bury them inside you against some grimy bar bathroom. 
The date was all peanut butter smiles and bubbly laughter that floated up into the trees. Silly, yes, but neither of you could deny there was something sweet, maybe even romantic about it. A cheap meal in the woods shared between two friends in ill-fitting fifty cent hats, but an undeniable touch of romance lingered nonetheless. 
Eddie started to realize that maybe the whole dating thing wasn’t as uptight and scary as he had initially thought. It could be easy and fun, with the right person. And fuck, if he could even imagine doing this with anyone but you. 
Like most things Eddie did, he did not consider any potential consequences before acting. You looked so pretty sitting there in the sunshine, sipping from your cheap ‘Martha & Dave ’43’ glass, a few sandwich crumbs dotting the corner of your mouth.
What else was he supposed to do other than lean over and wipe them away with his thumb, stroking your soft cheek and feel the warmth of your skin beneath his palm. 
“You had some,” he uses his other hand to motion at his own mouth, “and I suppose this is the sort of moment where I’d ask if I can kiss you.” 
You find yourself a bit dumbfounded, his big stupid hand on your cheek and those big stupid puppy dog eyes unrelenting in making everything he says seem so genuine.
“Are you?” You find your voice, only half embarrassed at how shy it comes out.
“Am I what?”
“Are you asking me?”
“Yeah,” his answer comes out in a way that insinuates that he never meant anything other than that, that he was always asking to kiss you, he wasn’t asking in theory, in another universe, in the context of advice. 
“Okay,” you found yourself behaving like Eddie, not really thinking of consequences before your words and actions spoke on behalf of your instincts.
Everything so far had been so easy. Your fake first date at the bar, curling up next to him in a haze, making up stories about what sort of people donated the fake palm tree or the Garfield mug at the Goodwill, imagining Eddie running around a yard with a puppy, lounging in the grass and eating your assorted picnic snacks. It was all effortless.
Suddenly, being kissed by Eddie sucked the ease from your lungs and sent your mind spiraling into a cacophony of bells and whistles and giant swirling red flags. If this is how he kissed you, casually across some half eaten peanut butter sandwiches, you’d spend the rest of your days yearning to know how he kissed someone with true intention. 
Of course, his intentions were all there, but the lingering knowledge that all of this was happening under the umbrella of “you giving him advice” or “helping practice for the next girl” poisoned any true feeling he poured into it. He cupped your cheek, soft, let his lips press into yours delicately for a moment before he felt your breath hitch, opening his mouth just enough to deepen the kiss and capture your lower lip fully. 
He was more careful, gentle, methodic with his movements and so receptive to every little signal your body gave him, it was unlike any first-kiss, heat-of-the-moment-kiss, in-the-throws-of-passion-kiss, any of it. Like hell you’d ever tell him that, inflate that big ego that fuels his snippy comebacks at you, but Jesus, was it remarkable. 
While at war with yourself internally, your heart was on the precipice of exploding in your chest from the way he snaked his hand into your hair and pressed his forehead against yours to catch a breath. You suck in a sharp breath and feel that stupid cocky smirk creep up onto that pretty mouth of his.
“’S that sufficient for a first kiss?”
“Fuck offfff,” you were still a little out of breath, smacking his chest and flopping back down onto the picnic blanket, throwing your arms up and rolling your eyes at him, “if you’re so damn confident, maybe we just should fake break up, cuz you don’t seem like you need my advice.”
“Nooooo,”he slumps down next to you, burrowing his head under your arm so he can pop up right next to your face, “I’m learning a lot, I promise! This date was so fun, and cheap! I would have never thought any of this could be remotely romantic. I’m hopeless, y/n, look at me.”
He wriggles around and gives you a big fake pout, “If left to my own devices I would probably do something horribly embarrassing or off-putting, like…” he digs his head into the crook of your neck and blew a fat, wet raspberry right into your skin, making you yelp and squeal, but his position half on top of you pins you down. 
“See!” He pulls up for air, you were in a fit of screaming giggles, “I’d go right in for a kiss and just,” and he does it again, leaving you gasping for air, trying your best to tickle his ribs to get him off of you, but not minding the close contact by any means. 
“Now I’m not so sure,” he pulls back to give you a minute to catch your breath, “it seems like you enjoyed that, so maybe survey says I should pull that move on the ladies.”
Your airy laughter subsided, but he stays half pinning you down to the blanket and the lumpy grass underneath.
“I didn’t mean to give you the impression that I’m not grateful for your help,” he says earnestly, catching your gaze, “it’s just… this isn’t what I need help with.”
As his statement is processing, you find his lips back on yours, his torso pressed flushed with yours and his wild mane of hair coming down to curtain around your head. He doesn’t take it too far, but kisses you as earnestly as he had before, giving your lip a slight drag with his teeth and running his hand up from your hip up the side of your ribcage, leaving you arching slightly into him by pure instinct.
Before your head got too dizzy again, before you could really throw yourself into it and say fuck it and kiss him back the way you secretly wanted to, he pulled back.
“That.” his voice was even, you hated how needy you felt and how even keeled he could be milliseconds after stealing the air from your lungs, “It’s the rest of it,” he threw his hands up and gestured to all the food and knock knacks around you, “it’s this stuff that you make seem so easy, so forgive me if I lay it on a little thick when we get to the parts I’m actually good at.”
“Just,” you sat up a bit, grounding yourself and formulating a response despite your brain looping the past twenty seconds back infinitely, “don’t do that again.”
“Okay,” he sat back and popped a grape into his mouth, “sorry.”
“Don’t apologize,” you knocked his knee with yours, struggling to articulate how you felt without showing too much of your hand, deciding to just be candid, “I just- I liked that a little too much if you know what I mean. And this is strictly business, or education, maybe?”
“You liked it when I pinned you against the wall the other night,” he said matter of factly, “I think you liked that a little too much too, and you still took me on this fake educational business date.”
“Yeah, well, you caught me,” you threw your hands up in defense.
“Which one is it though?” He asks and you don’t quite understand, “are you a sweet kiss on the picnic kind of girl, or an up against the wall kind of girl?”
“That’s none of your business, as far as fake-dating is concerned,” you say a little too quickly, “and no you can’t have my panties.”
You say it with a smirk, but he doesn’t press any further. He turns and does that Eddie-thing he’s so good at, just changing the subject and shifting the vibe completely away from what might have been a stale moment or awkward pause. He starts asking if you like green or purple grapes better, going off about how he used to put them in the freezer as a kid. 
The remainder of your date went without a hitch, of course. You picked away at your picnic until the sun started to set, and once the sky started turning purple you made your way back to the car. The drive home consisted only of easy conversation and no further mention of the kiss, well, kisses that had transpired. He hopped out of the passenger seat with a ‘thank you’ and a ‘see ya later alligator.’ 
A scalding hot shower, a restless night of sleep, and too many cups of herbal tea the next morning did nothing to quell the noise in your head that blasted those moments over and over. You couldn’t stop picking apart whether he had thought about it for even a millisecond, and felt embarrassed that you could think of nothing else. 
It was simply an amplified version of what your whole friendship had been up until this point. You silently admiring him and wishing he would look at you the way you looked at him, and settling for friendship over heartbreak. 
Pushing it aside to the best of your ability allowed you to get through your week, but you had the lingering feeling that the next time you saw him would strike you with warm cheeks and a scrambled mental state.
Guilt had started to seep in at the corners of your mind, but you reminded yourself that you shouldn’t punish yourself for having romantic or sexual thoughts about someone you simply found attractive and compelling, it was your actions that would determine the validity of your guilt. 
“Long time no see, loser,” Robin hollered from the pool table across the bar, where she was likely kicking Steve’s ass. 
“Yeah, yeah, sorry,” you shrug off your coat and plop down at their regular booth, knowing her jabs were entirely empty. You notice Eddie’s leather jacket hung up by the wall, and scan the bar to find him ordering a drink. 
There was a silent mutual understanding that you’d keep the fake dating thing to a bare minimum when out with your friends like this. Even though Steve was well aware, and therefore Robin was too, you figured tainting your social time with the performance of romance is the exact reason Eddie turned down the girl at the bar in the first place. 
“For the lady,” Eddie waltzes over and hands you a drink.
“Oh, thanks,” you take it with a confused smile, “you didn’t have to do that.”
“You bought me coffee last weekend,” he sat across the booth from you, “plus I’m trying to get better at buying drinks for pretty girls, right?”
You remind him that he doesn’t have to keep tabs on things like coffee, but you appreciate the gesture regardless. As per the past few times you’d been out with your friends, you expected him to put a pause on the flirting, but it seems to be bubbling over tonight. You weren’t complaining, but admittedly the arm around your shoulder or the noticeable way he checked you out when you got up to refill your drink took you by slight surprise. 
Sneaking in to claim the always occupied dart board for a challenge against Eddie while he uses the restroom, you keep your eyes on the corner of the bar to signal him over once he returns.
“You need a partner?” A man suddenly appears behind you, a little closer than you’d like but the bar was crowded, so you’ll let it slide. 
“Oh, I was just waiting for-“
“Let me fill in until your friend gets here, we can get you warmed up, yeah?” His tone wasn’t too pushy, but you didn’t love the look he gave you when making that comment.
Awkwardly staggering for a second, unsure weather to just agree or tell him to fuck off, “He really should be just a minute-“
“Or maybe less,” Eddie comes up right behind you and pulls you possessively into his side.
Your head whips up to see him with a devilish smile, his hand on your waist and the fire behind his eyes telling his guy to get lost.
“Oh, sorry man,” the guy starts backing away with an apologetic look.
“Yeah, better luck next time, pal,” Eddie snakes around to take the guy’s spot in front of the dart board.
He had his darts in hand and took his stance to start the match, gesturing for you to do the same. 
“What was that,” you ask with a slight joking tone, but seriously curious.
“What?” He doesn’t make eye contact and instead throws the first dart, “I’m not allowed to get fake jealous?”
“You’re allowed to feel any fake emotion you want, I guess,” your tone is somewhere in between a joke and a question. 
“You’d feel fake jealous if I was getting blown in the bathroom by some chick rather than playing darts with you, I bet.”
“Okay,” your tone shifts to defensive, “getting blown is very different than some guy asking to play darts with me.”
“I didn’t like the way he was looking at you,” Eddie turns to face you, having thrown all his darts, “for real.”
A moment lapsed where you didn’t register that your mouth was hanging open in disbelief, the look in your eyes Eddie immediately clocked as lust and bottled up to store away for a later time. 
“I knew the scary dog thing would work,” his ‘i-told-you-so’ tone rubbed you the wrong way, but he wasn’t wrong, “you said girls weren’t into that, but you totally looooove that I defended your honor.”
“Don’t give yourself too much credit, I said girls wouldn’t be into it if you punched him,” you rolled your eyes.
“I don’t know, babe, I think you liked the whole ‘back off of my woman’ act.”
You mumble out a ‘whatever’ and let him have this win, which he was clearly reveling in, trying to focus instead at beating him at darts. 
“Just don’t pull shit like that on a first date, acting too possessive off the bat is a huge red flag for a lot of women.”
“I thought we weren’t doing dating advice tonight?” You don’t even have to look at him to know he’s got that stupid sarcastic smile.
“Yeah I thought so too,” you fail at your attempt to beat him in darts, as well as your attempt to not flirt back with him. 
He insists on collecting all the darts, picking up the ones haphazardly strews across the floor from failed attempts to hit the board. 
“I’m no pro or anything, but I think you’d hit the board a lot more if you fixed your stance.”
“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” you flip him the bird and take back your red tipped darts. 
As you steady your arm to aim your first shot he comes up behind you and grabs your hips, causing you to let out an unexpected squeak. He adjusts your stance, not aggressively, but with some force, twisting your hips and using his big combat boot to sweep your foot around so you stood more sideways. 
“You’re standing straight on,” he backs up, allowing you to secretly catch your breath, “and all your shots are veering to the right. If you plant your feet more angled you’ll hit the board.”
You wanted to roll your eyes at him, miss on purpose to show him he’s full of shit. You flippantly toss the dart, not trying particularly hard, and it hits. Not a bulls-eye or anything like that, but a lot closer than your previous attempts had been. 
“Good girl,” he comments, leaning in to breech your personal space just enough to make your blood boil.
You drop the remainder of the darts in your opposite hand onto the floor and whip around to face him, half jokingly smacking him on the shoulder. 
“Oh my god, fuck off!”
You’re met with his trademark shit-eating grin.
Truthfully, Eddie hadn’t been able to keep his eyes off you all night. He’d spent the night after your picnic date with his hand in bis boxers, squeezing his eyes shut and remembering the little gasp you had made when he grabbed your waist, the hum in your throat that bubbled up when he kissed you pinned against the blanket, that night and every night since. 
“Oh, you don’t like that?” that joking tone he uses to cover up what he actually wants to say. 
“Shut up, you know I do,” you didn’t even try to stifle your reaction, knowing it was his intent to get under your skin.
“How would I possibly know that,” he playfully looks up at the ceiling and around the bar, hands clasped behind his back now, rocking back and forth on his heels.
“You better cut that shit out, unless you plan on doing something about it,” you manage the most assertive tone your wobbly insides could muster, a little shocked at yourself for actually saying what you were thinking. 
“I’m not much of a planner,” he gracefully takes a stance next to you and rips all three darts, not great shots, but all hitting the board, “I’m more of a fly-by-the-seat-of-my-pants kind of guy, you know that.”
“Well your pants better make up their mind if you’re playing boyfriend tonight or not,” your insinuation was heavy but you had fumbled your hand, and he had already seen all your cards at this point, so there was no reason to bluff.
“The real question is,” he leans in, his imposing figure crowding your space in a way that made your head spin, “do you want me to play boyfriend? Or do you want me to play guy who fucks your brains out in the bar bathroom?”
Your eyebrows pinched together for a millisecond, and before he could decipher your expression you grabbed his hand and started storming through the crowds hoarded by the bar. Why the hell a seedy downtown bar has a single stall family bathroom with a changing table is beyond you, but you drag him inside and slam the lock down behind you. 
“You’re not allowed to treat me any differently after this,” you start to fall into the sinkhole of oh my god what the hell is about to happen, but are cut off by him pressing you against the closed door the exact way he had handled you against his kitchen wall that night weeks ago. 
“Not unless you want me to,” he doesn’t hesitate to get his mouth on yours, immediately pulling your mind from wondering what the vague sticky substance on the door pressing into your back could be. 
“I mean, you’re not allowed to fuck me and then never talk to me again,” you say in between moving lips and tongues, giving him a moment to bury his face in your neck, "Promise me."
“Oh don’t worry about that,” he pulls back, “we can go get coffee tomorrow and you can give me a full performance review. Promise.”
Your annoyed eye roll quickly turns into them fluttering shut as he licks a stripe up to the junction behind your ear that has you melted into a boneless puddle between his pressing hips and the door. He drags his teeth across your lobe while leaning into you with a black denim clad thigh.
“Why don’t we make a deal,” you let out, voice breathy and unfocused. Before he can even pull back to reply you continue, “if you’re half as good at this as you claim to be, and can make me cum in this dingy bathroom, I’ll let you take me back to your trailer and you can do whatever the fuck you want to me.”
He was leaning in to seal the deal with a kiss before he could even process your request, because yes of course, a million times yes he’s taking this deal. Despite the rouse of you playing bar hookup for the night, and despite the idea of bringing you back to his place and finally doing what he’s wanted since the day he met you absolutely terrifying him, he nods and kisses you. 
It’s electrifying. His confidence only spurs you on to kiss him harder, grip his hair a little tighter, say the things you would only imagine in the deepest parts of your mind. The feeling of his grin against your lower lip and his fingers quickly unbuttoning your jeans fuels your fire. 
“You sure you know what you’re getting into,” he mumbles playfully, pulling you away from the wall with a gasp and leading you over to the tiny built in counter against a mirror by the sink. 
“Well I’m certainly not letting you fuck me against any of these sticky surfaces,” you note as you’re lifted onto the counter covered in mystery substance, “and I think you need to earn it.”
Of course it was no surprise to you that Eddie was good with his fingers. You probably could have told anyone that long before this impromptu bathroom hookup. Egging him on and challenging him in a way you were sure he wasn’t used to was well worth abandoning your assumptions. 
“Oh yeah? I think, if you’re lucky, I’ll earn it more times than you can count before the night’s over,” he positioned himself in between your legs, pressing your torso into the mirror behind you as he leaned in for another heated kiss. 
He pulled your ass to the edge of the counter, and looped his thumbs into the waistband of your unbuttoned pants. You were quick to assume that he’d yank the fabric right off your legs, preparing to lift your ass from the counter to assist.
Eddie paused, pulled back and gave you a look that asked ‘you’re sure about this?’ and when a dreamy smile spread across your cheeks he melted into you with a kiss that turned your stomach inside out and made your pussy flutter.
He snakes a hand from its grip on your torso down into your unbuttoned pants. You arched up into his touch, wanting to urge him to get on with it and get your pants and underwear out of the way, but appreciating how much he seemed to be reveling in feeling you for the first time. 
“So fuckin wet,” he mumbled against your lips, his fingers only feeling up your cunt from outside your underwear. He pressed the fabric into your slick center, following the path up to your clit and then teasingly back down to where your panties were soaked through.
“You weren’t lying when you said you liked this a little too much,” he’s rolling his hips ever so slightly against your spread thigh as he rubs your clothed pussy, his teeth sinking into your lower lip as he moves the material aside and sinks two fingers right into your wet cunt with ease.
You were sure that you’d retrospectively have a million quippy compacks that come to mind, but in this moment it was impossible to come up with words when his fingers were buried inside you, still, just letting you squeeze around them, and his hard cock straining against his jeans nestled against the inside of your thigh.
He slowly drags his finger’s up from your hole to your clit, and you let out a whine of desperation as he fully removes his hand from your damp underwear. 
Before you can manage the breath to tell him to please, for the love of god, get on with it, he brings his fingers up to his lips and gives them a long suck, never breaking eye contact with you. 
“Yeah,” he sighs out and presses his forehead against yours, “I might like that a little too much too.”
Protests and urging words catch in your throat as he yanks down your pants and underwear with one quick pull, not even needing you to lift your ass off the counter more than it already was. He was methodical and moved with intention, folding up your pants neatly and shoving your soaked panties into his back pocket, shooting you a wink. 
“Eddie, please,” your overdue complaints are finally bubbling over. You hardly finish your plea before his face is buried in your neck, and his fingers are sliding right back into your needy hole. 
The top of your head rests against the mirror behind you, exposing your neck and arching your back into his touch. He sucks and nips at the soft skin between your collar bone and ear, all while letting his two middle fingers pump slowly into you.
“Mmmm,” he mumbles into the crook of your jaw, “such a good girl for me, perfect pussy squeezing my fingers so tight, can’t fuckin wait to feel you soak my cock.”
Nearly orgasming at his words alone, your eyes flutter shut and you let out a moan of his name as he lets his thumb drag circles across your clit. “Eddie, please, just like that, I-”
“Oh, suddenly she’s not questioning my abilities?” he says with a biting smirk, “What was that about me not being half as good as I think I am?”
“Fuck,” you want to raise an eyebrow and shoot something back, hold out and make him work for it, but after hardly two minutes of his fingers rolling inside you, hooked up to drag along that perfect fucking spot, you had no choice but to feed his ego and let him win. 
“You wanted to make your little deal,” he pumps a little faster, making your head loll to the side and mouth hang half open, “I’ll sweeten it for you, babe. I say we can get this pretty pussy to come twice all over my fingers before anyone even knocks on this door.”
“Yes,” is all you can squeak out, “yes, please.”
If Eddie was being honest, he was a few half-thrusts into your thigh short of coming in his own pants from how hot you looked. Your eyes glassed over, pretty lips parted and gasping his name, perfect cunt sucking his fingers in. 
The hand not occupied by your gushing cunt slid up to cup the side of your cheek, forcing you to look into his fiery eyes. “Feel’s good?” he questions, knowing the answer and not expecting a verbal response.
He drags the pad of his thumb up to your parted lips, running it along your plush bottom lip and dragging it down a bit, relishing in how under his spell you were. His thumb slips into your mouth and you immediately wrap your lips around it and suck. 
“Good girl,” his thumb on your clit is rubbing more focused circles, “suck on that and keep your voice down, don’t want the whole bar knowing what a good little slut you are for me.”
Jackpot. 
A muffled moan around his thumb and the spasming of your inner walls signaled that you were hitting your peak. He drags the spit slicked digit from your lips and quickly replaces it with his lips and tongue, kissing you with fervor as he feels you ride out your orgasm on his hand. 
“Mmmmmmm” you moan, somewhere between a pleading whine and a sigh of satisfaction into his lips as his fingers don’t let up. 
Under different circumstances you would tell him to slow down, give you a minute to catch your breath. Eddie was stubborn, this you knew, and he had already made it abundantly clear that one orgasm wasn’t going to be enough. 
He pulls back from your lips, loving the sharp intake of breath you swallow as your cheeks continue to flush and eyelids keep fluttering. 
“So fucking good, came all over my fingers,” his gaze locks in on where his hand was buried into your cunt. “Gonna give me one more?”
Of course you would, whether it was up to you or not. He did slow up for a second, just enough for you to regain your grip on reality before he started curling them up again. 
“Eddie,” you whine out, eyes nearly crossed and unable to focus your attention on his face, hands, anything other than his boner poking into your inner thigh, “wanna feel you.”
The hand formerly gripped tight onto the edge of the counter snakes forward and pulls his hip into you, a permanent indentation of his stiff cock molding against your skin. 
“Not yet baby,” he rolls his hips forward, giving you a delicious feel of how it would be if he was inside you, but instead pushing his fingers a touch deeper and then pulling his hips away, “one more and then I’ll take you home. You’re gonna let me ruin that perfect little cunt, right? That was the deal?”
“Yes,” you gasp out, his other hand moving from your hair down to rub fast tight circles on your clit, the other hand still pumping steadily inside you.
“That’s right, I know this pussy is gonna take me so well. You’re already drooling for my cock, so fucking perfect.”
You feel it building up again, that sacred double orgasm that only ever came during your alone time in the shower or when you were so desperate for release that your hand didn’t stop after the first, but never with another person, never like this. 
His smile nearly touched his ears at this point, pulling back to take in all of you as your eyes screwed shut and thighs threatened to break his wrist at how fast they snapped together. 
Hitting you like a punch to the gut, your abdomen tightened and released rapidly, air sucked from your lungs and his hand working you through it between your clenched thighs. 
Yeah, maybe this was a bad idea. 
If you were in a cartoon, stars and chirping birds would be swirling around your head as you slowly came back to reality. He gave you some space, and begrudgingly gave you pack your panties after you hand out your hand and gave him a stern look.
“I’m gonna go tell the others that you aren’t feeling great and I’m taking you home,” he makes sure you’ve pulled your pants back up before unlocking the door, “Take your time, and I’ll meet you at the van, okay? I’ll grab your stuff.”
“Yeah,” you still feel a little flustered, looking back into the mirror and smoothing down your hair, “thanks.”
He shoots you a wink before slipping out, giving you a moment to collect yourself and splash some cold water on your face. Okay, so you’re doing this. 
Any nagging feelings that this might ruin things or that he’s only teasing you because of your arrangement are quickly squished down into a deeper compartment of your brain, overtaken by the post orgasm bliss and wandering thoughts of what might happen next. 
You peek your head out of the bathroom door, and slink your way to the back door without passing your group table or a stray Steve or Robin. The fresh air equalizes your buzzing thoughts, and you spot Eddie, already in the driver’s seat of his van. 
“You good?” He asks as you hop into the passenger seat. You won’t let him have the upper hand, just because he made you come twice in under ten minutes. 
“Yeah,” you gather as much assertion as your voice will project, “You good?”
“F’course,” he starts backing up, you internally roll your eyes at the way his outstretched arm muscles and curved neck make your stomach flutter, “Just wanted to make sure I passed the test.”
You sit in silence, not wanting to give into the cocky game he clearly wants to play, yet know that he’s entirely correct in his assumption that he’s driven you completely crazy. Once he’s on the main stretch of road, finally rolling to a stop at a red light you let your hand migrate across the center console, dancing its way into his lap. 
As you hoped, his cock was still half hard and apparent underneath his jeans. You let your hand draw circles next to it, loving the little twitch you get when you run your nails against his thigh. 
“Easy there, tiger,” he lets out a huffed laugh, with just an edge to his tone that suggested you were getting yourself into something you’d soon regret. 
“C’mon Eds,” you let your head fall on the corner of the headrest, gaze angled over at his tight grip on the steering wheel while your hand dancing around the bulge in his pants, “you’ve been pushing this thing against my thigh for the past twenty minutes, forgive me for wanting a better feel.”
You put on a pretend pouty face and flash him your best puppy dog eyes to ward off any incoming snippy comments from him. He rolls his pretty eyes at you and silently bites the inside of his cheek as you feel up and down his lap, grazing his growing cock with each pass. 
“Forgiven,” through gritted teeth, he squeezes his eyes shut as your fingers circle around his head, now taking visible form beneath his black jeans. He internally reprimands himself for losing focus on the road, and zeroes his concentration on getting back to his trailer as fast as this van can take him. 
You have your fun watching him wiggle in his seat, feeling his thigh muscles clench under your palm every so often. You weren’t full on jerking him off over his pants, but you were certainly relishing in the feeling of his dick getting harder and harder with each occasional pass of your hand.
He parks diagonally across the lawn in front of his trailer, not giving a shit where the van ends up as long as it’s stopped. He wanted to dash around the vehicle and scoop you out of your seat, throw you over his shoulder and take you inside to continue with whatever this evening had in store for you.
The second his hand stalled on the clutch, shifting the van into park and taking a moment to let his mind wander to what would happen once he got you inside, you were already halfway out the van and skipping up the steps to his front door. 
Entering his trailer, you start taking off your coat and shoes, trying to act as normal as possible. Your facade of keeping it cool entirely shatters when he enters behind you, calmly clicking the door shut and patiently waiting for you to finish unlacing your boots.
You remain crouched down, darting your eyes up at him, deciding against being a brat and undoing your laces as slowly as possible to keep him waiting. Any caution you had was long swept away by the wind, and he’d taken control in your little bathroom tryst, so it was your turn to say fuck it and just do what felt right. 
And in this moment, there was only a few quick movements and about six inches of space between you and Eddie’s semi-hard dick. One shoe was only half off, haphazardly kicked behind you as you pivoted onto your knees and had your hands moving eagerly up his tensing thighs.
“Can I?” Your question was half formed and he was already nodding. 
You’d teased him enough on the ride over, you wanted him, now. Pants quickly unbuttoned and blue checkered boxers pushed down to his knees, and you were about to go feral and just go for it when a silver glimmer adorning his thick cock caught your eye.
Your mouth was already half open, but your jaw nearly unhinged and hit the floor when the pierced head of his dick falls out of his boxers and lands at your eye level. 
Unmoving, mouth agape, you look up to make eye contact, ripping your eyes away from the shock of two silver balls on his cockhead. He knew it was nice, he wouldn’t have bedazzled it if it wasn’t, but the look you were giving him sucked all the unwavering confidence from his body for a split second, suddenly feeling weak in the knees at the sight of you slowly sicking your tongue out, not making any contact but waiting. 
He took the base of his dick in his hand and gave it a few precautionary strokes before angling it down and slapping your wet tongue with the tip a few times. 
You were two and a half seconds away from being entirely fucked out. If he pulled away and asked you to crawl on all fours to him, you’d do it without a second thought.
You let him slide his cock gently against your outstretched tongue a few times before coming to your senses and wrapping your lips around him, moving your hand to replace his and move against the length that your mouth couldn’t yet reach. 
All it took was a few steady bobs of your head, hand twisting and eyes still focused upwards on his face, to have him biting his knuckle and looking up at the ceiling to ground himself to try and not bust on the spot. You love this, of course, seeing him visibly spiral paired with the salty taste of precum already leaking from him. 
The hand not jerking him off comes up to the back of his hip, gently pushing against him in tandem with the movements of your head, encouraging him to shallowly thrust into your mouth.
“Jesus fu-“ he grunts out, not wanting to overestimate your encouragement, but unable to keep his hips from rolling forward slightly with the push of your hands and the bob of your lips. 
After an unexpected snap of his hips that sent his cock sliding into the back of your throat, making you gag slightly, a pang of guilt struck through him for pushing too hard. That was, until you let your head pull back a touch to catch your breath, but a long string of spit connected your lips to his cock, and a wild smile broke across your face that nearly sent him to the moon. 
You dove back in and pushed his cock all the way into the back of your throat, going so far that your nose pressed into the patch of dark curls that sat above his perfect dick. Focusing your breathing through your nose, you make a point to constrict your throat a few times until you feel him twitch inside you.
Pulling off with a gasp for air, you notice his eyebrows pinched together and gaze locked on you. 
“I like how these feel,” you comment, letting your pointed tongue dance around the metal balls on his tip.
He shudders and you clench your thighs at the sight of his stomach muscles tensing up when your tongue makes contact with the underside of his head, right where it meets the shaft. 
“If I let you fuck my mouth until you come, are you still going to be able to give it to me in a bit, or are you a one and done kind of guy?” You ask with a playfully teasing tone, but genuinely want to know if you suck him off to completion if the night will be over or not. 
“Fuck,” he spits out, more blood rushing to his cock at the idea of coming down your throat, “I’d fuck you all night if you’d let me babe.”
Half a second doesn’t pass before his cock is back in your mouth, hips shakily moving forward with your movements, gaining confidence as you flicker your eyes up at him through your lashes, the glimmer in them telling him he can take what he wants. 
“Fuckin’ look at you,” he comments to himself, “takin’ it all.” 
“Mhmmm,” you hum around him letting your tongue roll around his tip each time before he pushes his cock back down your throat. 
“You think you can get away with teasing me like that? That shit you pulled in the van back there, you think it’s cute to try and get me all riled up?”
You nod, tongue out and saliva coating your lips and chin. You could tell he was close by the way his words came out staggered, and his hips started snapping towards you in a new tempo, like his body was chasing it. 
Grunts and moans pulled from his chest fill the space mixed with the hums of satisfaction you let out while you take him deeper and faster. Moving in for the kill, you carefully slip your hand up in between his legs, cupping his balls, trying your best not to startle him. 
“Oh fuck,” it was a pitch of his voice you’d never heard before, a new tone especially reserved for the moments before orgasm, “you’re gonna make me fuckin come, y/n, y/n, I’m…”
The feeling of his balls constricting in your hands cues the warm wash of come sputtering down into your throat.
Getting the feeling he’d appreciate a bit of a show, you continue to jerk him off and pull off his cock slightly, letting the tip balance onto the tip of your tongue and the rest of his load spills out into your open mouth, some landing around the corners and onto your lips. 
“Christ, y/n,” his chest is heaving, his eyes finally pulling from you to squeeze shut for a moment. 
Once you’re sure he’s looking at you again you swallow down the salty white substance and lick the excess off your lips. You take his head back into your mouth, sucking just enough to clean off the tip and lap up any stray drops. He’s sensitive, you can tell, so you stop torturing him and place a final kiss right in between the two metal balls. 
You thought of asking him if the piercing hurt, or maybe make a comment about the two matching tattoos on his hipbones, ink of his you’d never seen until now. Before your brain can jump from swallowing his come to making post-nut chit chat, he’s yanking you up off your feet and wrapping you in a searingly passionate kiss. 
In your past experience most guys wanted you to drink some water or brush your teeth after they came in your mouth, at least before kissing you. Not Eddie. The way his tongue immediately slipped into your mouth, you almost believed he was trying to get a taste for himself. 
“C’mon,” he whispers in between slotting his lips with your, “Bedroom. Now.” 
He takes your hips in his hands and spins you around, causing a surprised yelp to bubble up from you, making him chuckle behind you as he walks you down the hall, keeping his hands on your sides. 
You knew where you were going, there were only so many doors in his tiny trailer, and you’d been here plenty of times before, but you liked the feeling of his hands pushing you forward, guiding your movements and steering you down the hallway into his room. 
Before your knees can hit the bed he spins you back around and captures your lips in another heated kiss. His hands trail up your sides, letting his fingertips slide beneath the hem of your shirt and push it upwards until your ribs were exposed. He pulls away from your face, leaving you leaning back into him, not wanting the kiss to end. 
“Up,” he pinches the sides of your shirt in his hands, and signals with his chin that he wants you to lift your arms, which you comply. 
It slides up and off of you, his hands quickly darting back to unclasp your bra, seemingly without even trying. This makes you roll your eyes, but the realization that you’re bare before him eclipses the thought of making a snippy remark about what a man whore he is. 
Flat palms caress your sides and move up to cup your breasts, his tongue pressing into the side of your neck. 
“These too,” his thumbs dip into your pants, managing to wiggle under the waistband of your panties as well. You’re going to do it yourself, but he gently pushes you back onto the bed, letting you flip back into the unmade blankets. 
“I wanna see you,” he pops your pants button and waits for a nod before sliding your pants and underwear down your legs. 
In between the blowjob and now, he’d tucked himself back into his pants, pulling his boxers and jeans back up, still unbuttoned, but covering him back up as his cock returned to a half hard state, unlikely to stay that way for very long considering how things were going. 
The scene of you now sprawled out onto his bed, naked and needy for him, and him standing above you, basically fully clothed, had a flood of lust traveling south between your thighs.
“So fuckin’ gorgeous,” you burned under his intense gaze, raking down your body and soaking in the image of your skin laid out against his flannel plaid sheets. 
He crawls over you, letting his body melt into yours, the center seam of his jeans pressing against your soaking core, just as it had when he had you pressed up against the door of the bar bathroom.
Rocking gently against you, you feel his cock already starting to harden again. His tongue moves against your neck, hands roaming freely against your skin, arching into his touch. 
His breath was heavy against your lips, he was already starting to lose himself, and he knew he wanted to make you come with his tongue at least once before his dick came back out, but it was already pulsing between his legs, growing rock solid with every little whimper that came past your lips. 
Your fingers intertwined themselves into the tresses of his long, messy hair. You use your new grip to pull his face as close into yours as your bodies will allow, smushing his nose up against your cheek and foreheads plastered together. The weight of his body on yours, and the lovely rocking motion of his hips against yours stopped as he pulled away and hooked his arms under your knees. 
He slides off the side of the bed, feet returning to the carpeted ground and yanking your body to the edge of the mattress. You let out an unexpected giggle, body limp like a rag doll, moving wherever he wanted you. 
He leans back over to give you another deep kiss, teeth dragging against your lower lip and tongue sliding gracefully against yours, before he slides his mouth down, stopping to lap up at your nipples for a moment, not letting any part of your skin go untouched as he takes his time moving down to where you want him most. 
Wiggling around on his mattress, your body is begging him to get on with it, but he loves to make you squirm. He takes his time licking up your hip bones, kissing from the innermost part of your thigh all the way down to your knee, and then back up the other side. He even takes a long moment to suck a dark purple bruise into the meat of your thigh, biting down on the flesh and licking over the skin to soothe it, noticing how your back arched a little when he bit down harder. 
“Please Eddie,” your voice is hardly above a whisper, whimpering and whiny.
“All you had to do was ask nicely,” he has that too-cocky tone again, but it’s long forgotten once his tongue is buried in between your thighs, lapping up the excess of wetness already pooled there.
“Ohhh,” you let out a moan, sucking in a sharp breath and allowing your body to relax under his focused touch. 
His hands push up from your ass to the crooks of your knees, moving your legs back to either side of you, strong palms finding their resting place on the backs of your thighs, keeping your legs spread wide open for him while he buries his face deep in your cunt. 
“You-“ the start of a compliment, or maybe a request, escapes your lips but the sudden harsh suck of your clit into his mouth has you speechless and moaning, “Mhmmmmm, uhhhhhhh.”
The sloppy wet sounds of him making out with your pussy are enough to drive you wild, your hands originally balling his sheets in your fists quickly move to the top of his head, resting atop his mop of messy curls. 
“Y’can give it a tug,” the first half of his statement spoken directly into your pussy, “I don’t mind a little pain.” He shoots you a wink and keeps his eyes locked on you as he lets his tongue lap a fat long lick up your slit, and then leaning back down to encourage you to tangle your hands into his hair. 
Coming to either side of his head you grab two points of purchase, locking your fingers in at the roots and feeling him hum into your cunt when you grabbed it a little tighter. 
Your hips start to quiver, so he brings one hand from your thigh up to your lower stomach, pinning you against the bed, and still keeping you spread open with the other. 
Working a steady rhythm against your slick center with his lips and tongue, he can tell he’s found the spot you like most by your open mouth and tight eyebrows.
“Ohmygod,” your chest starts moving with heavy breaths, you can’t bear to keep yourself up any longer and flop back down flat onto the mattress, eyes screwing shut in pleasure. He lets go of his anchor on your tummy and returns his hands to your thighs, allowing your hips to wiggle and wriggle against his face to chase after your own pleasure. 
“Pleasepleaseplease,” one glimpse of his big brown eyes looking up at you and his nose pressing deliciously into the spot above your clit has your head reeling, “please don’t stop, fuck.”
Rather than reply, he just continues to devour you at that steady pace, your thighs almost snapping shut around his head . 
“Uh huh, right there, oh fuck Eddie I’m gonna-“ 
A strangled moan rips from your throat and your back arches off the mattress, his hands quickly come to wrap around your thighs and keep your center held closely against his face. He’s pulling your hips flush with his face, despite your spasming torso and gushing core. 
As your orgasm peaks, your hips angle themselves to push up deeper into his face, and he uses his leverage against the backs of your thighs to lift your ass, the entire lower half of your body now off the mattress and sliding backwards as he keeps his moving tongue glued to your clit. 
He climbs up onto the mattress as you slide back, the grip he had on your legs was sure to leave a sore memory of him unwilling to let your coming pussy away from his face. 
When he finally pulls away, your hand pushing at his forehead to prevent overstimulation, both of you gasping for air, his knees are propped under your thighs, and your hips are propped up right at perfect level with the bulge in his pants. 
“Fuck me,” you say through catching your breath, not as an expletive but rather a demand, “Eddie, I need you to fuck me,” your voice was whiny and desperate. 
“This okay?” he starts pulling his dick from its constraints in his unbuttoned jeans, not even shoving them halfway down his thighs before he had that pretty pierced dip dragging through your open and ready folds. 
“Yes, inside, please,” you were chasing after his length, while he tossed his shirt off. He teasingly ran it up and down your slit before sinking into you, collapsing down to press your lips into a kiss to swallow your moans as he slid the whole thing in slowly, making sure to take his time and fuck you right. 
He grabbed the back of your neck and pressed his forehead to yours, finally sheathed all the way inside you and stilling for a moment to relish in the feeling. Pulling back so he can watch your face as he pumps his first few thrusts, he knows he’s beyond fucked. 
“So fucking good,” you slur out, eyes almost crossing from how deep his cock was hitting your insides.
“Yeah? This pussy’s god damn perfect, fucking made for me,” he articulates each thought with a snap of his hips, “suckin’ me right in.” 
“Wait, can we,” your voice had a little more weight behind it unlike the airy moans he’d grown obsessed with in the past forty minutes.
He pulls back, and rather than finish your thought you slip him out of you and roll over, shuffling up the bed and positioning yourself face down ass up, knees spread and back arched. 
“You think you can handle it?” he asks jokingly, swatting your ass playfully and then landing a second, harder smack on the flesh when he notices you pussy clench around nothing at the sensation of him spanking you. 
“Want you to fuck me hard,” you mumble into his pillow, wiggling your hips a little bit to jiggle the fat of your ass, “I know your cock is gonna feel so fucking good in me this way, wanna feel that fucking piercing back in my throat from the other direction.”
“Jesus Christ, y/n,” he was genuinely a little shocked at your words, slowly learning that your freak side might match his. 
You expected to feel his cock slam into you once his hands came to spread your ass apart, but instead the mattress dipped and he was licking another fat stripe from your clit all the way up past your second hole, running this back a few times until you were moaning into the pillow and thighs were tensed up from the attention he was giving you.
“Sorry babe, just needed another taste,” he pushed the head of his dick into you, and moved the first few inches agonizingly slow into your soaked hole. 
“Eddie please, need it, need you,” he loved that his sheets were balled up in your fists, using the tension of the material to bounce yourself back onto him. You only manage to slide back down about three quarters before he’s tightly gripping your hip and pulling out half way again. 
“Tsk tsk tsk, you need to learn to be patient, pretty girl,” he’d thrust it an inch of so, and then slowly pull back, making you whine and start to feel tears bubble up in the corners of your eyes. 
“Want it so bad,” your cheek laid flat against his pillow, and you could catch a glimpse of him behind you out of the corner of your eye if you craned your neck a bit. You sounded so desperate, but you knew he liked it, liked hearing how badly you craved him. 
He starts moving in and out of you, firm grip on your ass never wavering. Restrained grunts left his mouth as he fucked into you, causing your eyes to practically roll into the back of your head. He leans down to place a soft kiss on your shoulder blade, despite how viciously he's pounding into you. His head cranes down to your shoulder, his hand coming up to brush your hair out of your face. 
As his long fingers move your hair away from your eyes, you push your head back into his hand, not wanting to lose contact. He tentatively runs his hands up into your hair, taking a soft grip on your roots.
“Is this what you want?” he whispers, “you like it rough?”
“Yes,” you manage to squeak out, “fuck, pull my hair, spank me, do whatever the fuck you want to me, please.”
His vision practically goes black with this new unrestricted passion, allowing himself to thrust into you as hard and as deep as his hips would propel him, twisting your hair in his grip and pulling you up from your laid position, quickly letting your hands jump to his headboard to support you as your head was pulled back. 
You tried to bounce back onto his cock, wanting to feel him as deeply and wholly as your bodies would allow, but you could hardly keep up with the pace he had set. 
Your ass bouncing against him and the occasional glance he caught at your fucked out expression spurred him on to fuck you even harder. He had your hair pulled back so tight that your back was pressing flush up with his chest every so often, and he took the opportunity to snake an arm around you and hold your chest up flat, his other hand moving down to rub frantic circles on your clit.
“You’re gonna make me come like this,” you manage to croak out, voice hoarse from the harsh bend in your neck. 
“Nuh uhh, no,” his voice was gruff and commanding, right into your ear and sent a shiver down your spine. 
He pulled out of you fully, and had you flipped around flat on your back again before you could even open your mouth to complain. 
“Need to see that pretty face when you come on my cock,” he lines himself up with you again, pushing into you and making a mental note of how the bulge of his cock looked pressing up from the inner part of your lower stomach. 
And of course, your face screwed up in pleasure, puffy lips and sweaty brow, slack jawed and panting his name would be something Eddie wouldn’t be able to forget even if he tried.
His thumb found its way to your clit to pick up where he had last left you, steadily building to an earth shattering orgasm. Talking you through it, knowing you were close by the vice grip your walls had on his dick, in between grunts he spilled out some “good girl”’s and “right fuckin there, that’s it.” 
When he felt your thighs tense up, and the muscles in your neck strain against the soft skin he’d previously had his lips all over, he knew you were nearing the finish line. 
“So fucking perfect, feel so good wrapped around me,” he managed to sweet talk you without altering the pace of his hips, “That’s it, come on my cock, give it to me.”
With that, your body can’t help but throw itself over the edge of pleasure. A deep grunt rattles in your chest, and you lose all sensation other than the wild pulsing in between your legs. You can’t be bothered to worry about what your face looks like, or if your thighs are squeezing him too hard, you only feel the riptide of an orgasm shattering through you. 
The animalistic noise that Eddie grunts out, his wild gaze locked on your face only makes your body shake with pleasure even harder. He had that instinct that most men lacked, to keep the exact pace and motion when your orgasm hit rather than speed up or slow down, it was a gift, a talent. 
Of course he wasn’t going to change a thing about what he was doing, look at you. You were so fucking perfect, shaking and coming all over him, those sweet noises and the beautiful squelching between your thighs. He’d rather die than change a single thing about this moment. 
He stilled only when you paused to catch your breath, and within seconds was flipped over by the power of your thighs onto his back.
Unexpectedly, you began to ride him, trying to match the pace he had earlier set. The aftershocks of your orgasm still washed through you, but you seized the moment to get him right where you wanted him. This angle was different, deeper and more connected. You roll your hips and bring your hands up to his hair, foreheads pressing together once again. 
“You’re making me feel so fucking good,” you manage to breathe out into his lips, he quickly comes to the realization of what’s happened and shifts the angle of his hips to hit you even deeper. 
“I’d give you everything, if you’d let me,” he doesn’t let a single thought pass in his mind before the words slip out, “always.”
Your lips capture his in a kiss that has far more emotion behind it than two friends play-dating and fucking for fun. His hands come up to grasp your cheeks, your hips continue to roll down into his with purpose. 
“I’m- Where-“ his words are hardly intelligible in between breathless kisses, but you know what he means. 
“Inside, please, need all of you inside me,” you try to keep your voice steady so he hears you loud and clear, wanting to give him the exact attention he had paid to you, “Please Eddie, come inside me.”
His hands travel down and guide your hips to fuck down onto him one, two, three times before he’s groaning in your ear and letting out the prettiest and most vulnerable sounds you’ve ever heard form him. 
The swell of his cock inside you makes you drape your head into his neck, focusing on riding out his orgasm and making sure he was twitching in the aftershocks of his orgasm before you let up. 
When you felt his grip on your hips tighten, signaling that he’d had too much, you sink all the way down one final time and let your body lay limp on his, pulsing cock still filling you up. 
His chest rose and fell harshly with his recovering breaths. You could feel his heartbeat pulsing up through the spot on his neck where your ear laid on his sweaty skin.
Silently awaiting the inevitable tap on the shoulder, the slow pull out and post-sex cleanup process, you try to savor every passing moment. But it doesn’t come. Eddie wraps his arms around your midsection and holds your limp body close to his, letting his cock start to soften inside you. 
You nearly fall asleep like that, all wrapped up in him, until you recognize that you should pee and clean up to avoid a UTI. You slip off of him, and hear a disappointed groan from him. He makes cute grabby hands at you as you cross the room, making you roll your eyes, but something deep inside you flip flops with how sweet he’s being, so caring, so unlike the picture of himself that he had painted for you. 
You give him a wet hand towel to clean up the remnants of your activities, and slip back into bed with him per his insistence. You doze off for a while, until the rising sun peeking through his blinds catches your eye, striking you with the sudden decision to stay and face the music or leave and let it settle. 
You’d already regretted it, but weren’t ready to have the “hey, so I know we had fake boyfriend-girlfriend sex, but I actually really like you so what should we do about that?” conversion with him, so instead you take the cowardly path and tiptoe out of his room in the early morning hours, leaving behind your underwear on his nightside table with a scribbled note saying to call you. Hopefully that was enough of a signal. 
Apparently not,
Days pass, and no call. 
It was all starting to get to your head. While you had gone through the stages of being nervous that you had done something wrong, that he was avoiding you to spare you the rejection, thinking he regretted what had happened and didn’t want to face you, who was so obviously into him it was painful, you’d just now turned a new leaf. Fuck that. If he was too much of a coward to call you, you'd hope he'd at least give you the decency as a friend to tell you the truth, you deserved to be angry, and you deserved a response. 
After stewing in your feelings for longer than felt healthy, you just get in your car and start driving to his trailer. If this all blew up in your face at least you wouldn’t have to keep biting your nails and waiting for the phone to ring. 
Three deep breaths, and a quick moment to gather your thoughts, and suddenly your body acted on instinct, putting the car in park and walking up to pound three concise knocks on his trailer door. 
“Just a second,” he hollered from inside, giving you a few seconds to be stricken with regret for showing up unannounced without a plan on what exactly to say. 
“What do you- oh, y/n,” he was in a pair of plaid pajama pants that hung low on his hips, shirtless and hair still damp from a recent shower, “uh, hey?”
“Oh, hey,” your tone was laced with annoyance, “I left something here last week and I’m here to get it back. If you don’t mind.”
“What- oh,” he’s a second too slow to realize you mean the underwear you had purposefully left behind with that note. The note telling him to call you. Which he never did. 
You were left standing on his porch steps, arms crossed and shooting daggers out of your eyes while he stood there in the doorway, an apparent guilty expression plastered on his face while he rocked back on his heels to buy some time to figure out what to say. 
“You don’t have to invite me inside, if you can just grab them and give them to me, and I’ll be out of your hair,” you say flatly, recognizing if he does as asked then this might be the last time you speak to Eddie Munson. 
“No, no, uh, you should come in,” he steps aside to let you in, “we probably shouldn’t have this conversation on my front steps.”
Avoiding eye contact, feeling an overwhelming mix of anger, confusion, and betrayal, you step inside and don’t make any effort to move into the space. You just stand by the door and give him an expectant look. Either he could go get the underwear, or he could grow a pair and say something to you. 
“I, uh-“ he looked so defeated you started to feel bad for using such a pointed tone, but then you remembered the days and days that passed without hearing from him, “I’m sorry, that I, y’know…”
“Yeah, well I don’t really care if you’re not looking for any post sex recap conversations, because you’re obviously pretty sure of yourself in that department,” the words flew out before your mind could even conjure them up, “but you fucking promised me that you wouldn’t do this, so can I please just have my underwear back and I won’t bother you again.”
He runs a hand through his hair letting out a deep exhale and searching the ceiling for words, “I know, I-“
You cut him off, your thoughts were ripping through you now and you were going to say your piece whether he asked for it or not, “You said you wouldn’t pull this shit with me, but I guess our friendship isn’t substantial enough for you to see me any differently than you do every other girl you throw away after you’ve gotten what you want. You clearly don’t want any more advice and you clearly don’t want to be my friend, so please, just give me my shit so I can go.”
“That’s the fucking thing y/n, of course I don’t want to be your friend,” his gaze still fixed on the ceiling.
At this point you were seconds away from just storming out, letting him keep your underwear as some twisted little trophy for breaking your heart. 
“Yeah, crystal clear Eddie.”
“Being your friend is already hard enough, and I knew this shit was a bad idea, the whole trial-girlfriend thing. But how the fuck was I supposed to say no to that? The girl of my dreams offers to do all this no-strings-attached romantic shit, I’d be the dumbest man alive to turn that down.”
You just give him a blank stare, your scalding anger twisting into a more confused frenzy of bees swarming in the pit of your stomach. Eyebrows pinched together, you just stare at him until he finally makes eye contact with you. 
“And yeah,” he goes on, letting all his words out like a big exhale in the same cadence that you had just hurled all your angry words at his, but his tone was filled with guilt as opposed to rage, “maybe we let it go a little too far, but I would never say no to you, I couldn’t. I’m sorry I didn’t know what the fuck to say to you after, but that’s exactly the reason I’m not good enough for you. The more we kept that fake dating shit up the worse it was gonna get, so I’m sorry, but I can’t keep spending time with you like that, because it’s starting to fucking hurt.”
“Hurt,” you say with a dry laugh, which almost scares him, “YOU’RE hurt? Give me a fucking break Eddie. I know you don’t see me that way. So what, you’re too scared to hurt my feelings? You’re doing a wonderful job, keep it up.”
“What the fuck do you mean, not see you like what?”
“Don’t pretend to be dumb Eddie. When we first met I tried so hard to get your attention, asking you to hang out, and you always blew me off. It’s fine that you don’t want to date me or whatever, but at least just tell me that, don’t fuck me like I’m special or something and then toss me aside. I deserve better than that.”
“Yeah, y/n, you do,” his voice was no longer guilt stricken, and was on the same straightforward plane as your last responses, “you deserve so much fucking better than me, that’s why I could never let anything between us happen. I don’t call girls back. I’m rude. I don’t take care of myself, let alone others. I like to smoke, and drink, and get head from girls in bar bathrooms and never learn their names, and that’s not the kind of person that a girl like you dates. I’m a fun quick fuck. You’re the kind of girl that after three dates he’ll already have a ring picked out. You’re everything, and I’m nothing, so forgive me for sparing you of that.”
Your bones are frozen and the beat of silence gives him the opportunity to spin on his heel and start down the hallway, presumably to get your panties. 
Snapping back into it, you let out a louder than expected, “Hey,” and you start following him, not taking long to catch up to him in his bedroom. 
“You,” you point a finger at him, and start to feel the rage bubble up again, “don’t get to decide that you’re unloveable. And you don’t get to tell me what kind of girl I am. Have you ever considered that maybe the reason you’re so lonely and miserable is because you choose to be? You don’t get to decide what I deserve, I do. And I really fucking like you Eddie, so forgive me for acting like it.” 
You snatch your underwear off his bedside table, and give him a look, not fueled by anger or resentment, but empathy. 
“I’m going to leave. And if you don’t want to see me again, that’s fine, but if you do, you can call me. Goodbye Eddie.”
You feel out of your own body, floating above it all and rewinding the conversation over and over, body on autopilot taking you home while your soul stayed behind and relived his words over and over, unsure if you feel better or worse than when you showed up. 
Days pass by again, and you take his silence as more of a response than anything he had said to you during that conversation. You try not to wallow, but you feel scattered and distraught, at both the prospect of losing Eddie and having to deal with your shared friends, would they allow you to dance around each other, or would they flat out choose him and shut you out? Would group nights out bowling suddenly just turn into the occasional one-on-one coffee with Robin? 
Until suddenly, on a random Tuesday afternoon when you've gotten home from work and are relaxing on the couch in your pajamas, three knocks are at your door.
At this point you figured it was over. He hadn't called and he'd made no effort to continue the dialogue. So a thought of Eddie doesn't even cross your mind in between the couch and opening the door.
And there he is.
In a suit, slightly descheveld in Eddie fashion, and holding a slightly wilting bouquet of flowers. Posture straight and brave face, but expecting your brutal edge upon answering the door nonetheless.
"Hey?" you're somewhat at a loss for words answering.
"Hi," he seems like he's running lines of a play in his mind, "I was hoping we could talk."
You reluctantly let him in, and he hands the flowers to you, as if it was a normal occurrence for him to bring you such a gift.
"First off," he starts, hardly breaching your living room entrance before starting his apology, "I regret the way we last left things, and I'm sorry for leaving you waiting for a response."
He flicks those big brown eyes at you and you can't help but give him the benefit of the doubt, he always was so sincere with his words.
"You're amazing. And although I'll remain adamant that I don't deserve someone like you in my life, I've been thinking a lot about what you said, and I'm sorry that tried to tell you how to feel."
You remain stoic at your seat on the couch, watching him shift his weight and bare his soul to you.
"You're perfect. Nice, funny, sexy, brave, all of it. And if you're willing to give me a chance, I don't know why the fuck you would, but if you are, I want to put aside all my bullshit and try this out, if you'll have me."
He stood there for a moment, letting you take in his request, bouquet in hand and suit adorned.
"And I owe you a few dates, for real."
As hard as you want your exterior to be, a smile cracks through.
"Okay, but know I don't fuck until the third date, at best," you jab, breaking his nervous exterior and visibly relieving the tension from his shoulders.
"I'm somewhat of a refined gentleman myself, so that won't be an issue," he bows and extends a hand to you.
You pull him down by the hand onto the couch with you, wrapping him up in a deep kiss. He was worth it, and you both knew it was worth the shot to try.
5K notes · View notes
jenoroyals · 2 months
Text
Cigarettes After Sex - Lee Jeno
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pairing : jeno x fem!reader
synopsis : Starting your first year of college in a different country was exciting to you. Everything fell into place - your roommate, your friends, and even your apartment. The only thing that didn’t was Lee Jeno - your roommate’s boyfriend’s best friend.
word count : 17.7K words
content/warnings : college au!, fluff, angst, strangers to lovers?, one bed trope, smoking usage, heavy drinking usage, cursing, cheating (not jeno or mc), perv!jeno, semi sexual content, etc.
featuring : yunjin (lesaraffim), mina (former gugudan), jaemin (nct), mark (nct), haechan (nct), renjun (nct), chenle (nct), jisung (nct), giselle (aespa), & shotaro (riize).
During your childhood you dreamed of growing up, being on your own and going out was all you’ve ever wanted. Hearing stories from your older relatives about how wild they were in college just made it more severe.
“Yn? What college are you thinking about?” Your older sister asks.
You think for a moment before replying. “Well, I was thinking of Seoul National University.” You say and she furrows her brows.
“Well, that’s far from home.” She says, staring at you.
“I know but they have a great nursing program.” You defend while looking at her.
“Schools around here have great nursing programs too.” Your sister argues and you shake your head.
“Not like the one over there.” You say and she sighs defeatedly.
“Can you even speak the language?" Your sister asks and you nod your head.
“Yes, I took classes all throughout high school. I’m basically fluent.” You say and she scoffs lightly.
“Nerd.” She says and you slap her arm. “Hey!” She laughs and looks at you before getting serious again.
“Have you talked to mom and dad?” She asks and you shake your head no.
“I’m pretty sure they won’t mind.” You say and look at her before getting up. “I might not even get accepted. I’m still thinking about what colleges to apply to.”
“Well, as your older sister, I don’t want you to go that far. But, I know that you’ve always taken your education seriously, so if that's where you want to go, then you should apply.” Your sister says and you snort.
“I was going to anyway.” You say with a roll of your eyes, jokingly.
She pushes your shoulder and mumbles “Whatever.” before walking out of your room with a laugh.
You walk over to your computer and start looking at the application to SNU. Sighing, you click on the application and start typing in your information. “Let’s hope.”
You smile thinking about that memory while packing your bags. Tomorrow, you’ll leave your hometown and go to South Korea.
“Are you excited?” Your mom asks while zipping up one of your luggages.
“Yeah I am.” You say and she smiles while looking at you.
“Is your roommate nice?” She asks and you nod with a smile.
“Yeah, we’ve been talking a lot lately. She seems nice.” You say and your mom asks for her name.
“Yunjin. She was born in Korea but moved to New York when she was little.”
You were online looking at the dorms, hoping to find a suitable roommate when an ad listing popped up. Curiously, you clicked on it and found a girl named Yunjin who was looking for a roommate to help pay for her apartment. She looked nice and the apartment was close to the university.
Hesitantly, you clicked on the apply button and started reading the conditions before applying. You were sure that you could pay for half of the rent with your card. Your parents were both brand owners so money wasn’t an issue.
The next day, you received an email saying that she would be glad to have you as a roommate and that's when a new friendship formed.
Your mom nods her head and starts running her hands through your hair. “I’m gonna miss you.” She says and sniffles which causes you to turn around.
“Mom, don’t cry. I’ll be okay, I promise.” You say to her and hug her.
“I know you will, I’m just gonna miss my baby.” She says and you coo at her.
“I’m okay.” You mom says and pulls away while wiping her eyes.
“Now finish packing up. I’m going to start preparing dinner.” She says and walks out of your room.
You sigh and grab your phone, looking at the messages you received.
facetime? - yunjin
You quickly type a response before you get an incoming call from her. “Hello?” You ask while placing your phone on your vanity.
“Hi! I’m so excited to move in and finally meet you in person.” She says and you laugh while packing away your accessories.
“Me too! I can’t believe we’re finally going to meet tomorrow.” You say and look at her through your phone.
“Are you still packing, girl?” She asks and laughs.
“Just last minute things.” You say and she nods her head.
“What time does your flight land?” She asks and you quickly look at your boarding pass.
“I should be landing at 5pm. You’re picking me up right?” You ask her and she nods. “Yes I am.”
The two of you stayed on the phone until it was time for you to go eat dinner. After dinner you showered and laid down on your bed. You couldn’t sleep due to the excitement and nerves. You were going to be far away from home, your family, everything you’ve ever known.
It was like you were finally starting your life, this was all that you dreamed of while growing up. Now that it’s finally happening, you couldn’t help but be nervous. You don’t even remember falling asleep but somehow you get woken up by your alarm.
Your flight was at 5am and you had to be there about an hour early. You woke up at around 3am and walked into your bathroom. You brushed your teeth and hair, trying to make yourself look comfy but somewhat presentable since you were going to be on a flight for 12 hours.
After getting ready and grabbing your bags, you brought them downstairs where your parents were already preparing snacks and food for your flight.
“Are you ready, sweetie?” Your dad asks and hands you the bag of food and snacks.
“As ready as I’ll ever be.” He nods and hugs you, squeezing you tightly.
“My baby girl is leaving the nest.” He says and you laugh.
“I’ll be back dad. I’m not leaving forever.” You say and he laughs along with your mom.
“Okay, we should start leaving. It’s already 3:45.” Your mom says and starts grabbing your luggage.
You follow her out into the car with 2 suitcases in your hands, along with the bag full of food. After putting everything into the car, the three of you get inside the car and drive to the airport.
Your parents followed you all the way through the airport until they couldn’t anymore. You turned to face them and hugged them tightly.
“I’m going to miss you guys.” You say and they both sniffle, trying hard not to cry.
“Be safe please.” You mom says and you nod your head.
“I will, I promise.”
“Flight 423 to Seoul will now be boarding.” Was heard over the intercom.
“I love you guys.” You say to them and hug them tight once again before turning around.
You wave goodbye to them before you can’t see their figures anymore. Pushing your glasses up, you make your way into the first class section of the plane. Setting your bag down, you quickly take your glasses off and look out the window.
Another 20 minutes went by before the plane started to take off. You watch out the window as the city lights start becoming smaller and smaller.
Goodbye home.
-
After a 12 hour flight, you finally landed in Korea. Grabbing your bags from the baggage claim, you walked out into the front of the airport, hoping to see Yunjin.
“Yn!” You hear your name being called and turn to where the voice came from.
You let out a squeal and run towards Yunjin. She wraps her arms around you and laughs.
“You’re finally here!” She says and you nod your head before pulling away.
“The air feels different.” You joke and she laughs.
“You haven’t even stepped outside yet.”
“I know but it just does.” You say and she laughs before helping you with your suitcases. The two of you walk out of the airport and to her car.
As you’re looking out the car window, you see different types of scenery. Buildings, people, trees, rivers, and bicyclists.
“Oh wow, the college looks huge.” You say and she laughs.
“I’m so not excited for school.” She says and you nod your head.
“Me too. Thank god we have two weeks before we have to start attending classes.” You say and the both of you continue to talk until she parks inside the apartment parking garage.
She popped the trunk open so you could get your luggages out. She helped you with them before the both of you walked towards the apartment building. There were two different apartment buildings.
“Okay, so we are in the building on the left on the fourth floor.” She says.
You follow her and get into an elevator. The elevator arrives on the fourth floor and you guys walk down the hall.
“124...125…126…and 127.” She says to herself and turns to you.
“Are you ready?”
“Yes, I’m dying to just lay down for a bit.” You say and she laughs before unlocking the door.
The walls were white with pictures and decorations adorning them. She had black leather couches surrounding a glass coffee table.
“You can put your stuff in here.” She says and leads you to a room. There was a queen sized bed with black bedding.
“I hope you like it. I wasn't sure how to decorate it.” She says and you shake your head.
“It’s perfect.” You say and she nods her head.
“What time are we going to dinner?” You ask her, starting to unpack.
“At 6, and I hope you don’t mind but I invited my boyfriend and some of our friends.” She says and you shake your head again.
“Not at all. I’m excited to make new friends.” You say and unzip another suitcase.
“What’s his name?” You ask while she helps unbag your skincare and makeup onto the vanity table.
“Jaemin.” She answers and looks at you.
“You know, his friends are also super cute.”
“Yunjin don’t.” You say jokingly and she laughs.
“What? I’m just saying. You said that you’ve never dated before. Why not try new experiences? I mean, that’s what you’re here for right?” She asks and you sigh before looking at her.
“Well yeah but-”
“But, nothing. Come on, you’re in a foreign country, you’re sweet, and you’re hot. You could probably get anyone you want.” She says, walking closer to you.
“Let’s just see how this goes.” You say and she smiles while clapping her hands.
After unpacking, you showered and started getting ready for dinner. After applying makeup and doing your hair, you looked through the drawers for clothes. You decided on a pair of low rise jeans with a baby pink cropped tank top.
After getting ready you grabbed your phone to look at the time but the doorbell rang. Confused, you walked out of your room and knocked on Yunjin’s bedroom door.
“Ynn, it’s my boyfriend and our friends. Can you let them in?” She yells from the other side of the door.
You yell back a yes and walk to the front door to open it. Three guys all dressed differently looked back at you in a confused manner.
“Are you sure this is the right one, dude?” The guy in a plain white long sleeve asks.
“Yes I’m sure. Hi, you must be the new roommate.” The guy in the middle asks.
“Yeah, I’m Yn. Nice to meet you. Please, come in.” You open the door wider for them to enter.
“Yunjin’s in the room.” You tell him and he nods before walking into her room.
Feeling awkward, you gesture for the other two boys to sit in the living room. They both walked over to the couch and sat down.
“Hello, I’m Mark. It's nice to meet you.” The guy who spoke earlier says and smiles at you.
He holds his hand out as a gesture for you to shake it. You grab his hand and smile back at him. “Yn.”
“I’m Jeno.” The other one says.
You quickly look at him and observe him. He was dressed in black ripped jeans with a plain white tee and a black leather jacket.
He was oozing with charisma, from the way he talked to the way he dressed. He had rings adorned on his fingers, paired with silver metal bracelets and multiple necklaces around his neck. You almost felt intimidated by him until he flashed a bright smile at you. His eyes formed into cute little crescents of the moon.
“Nice to meet you.” You say and walk away to grab your shoes. You grab your pink dunks and walk over to the couch to put your shoes on but before you could, Mark speaks up.
“Where’s the bathroom?” He asks and you direct him to it before continuing to put on your shoes.
As you bent down to slip your foot in, Jeno noticed how he could see your cleavage poking through the opening of your tank top. He smirks and licks his lips before looking back at his phone. After putting your shoes on you sat there in silence.
“Nice shoes.” He says and you look at him.
“Thank you.” You look down to his shoes to compliment him as well when you notice he’s wearing the same shoes as you just in black.
“You too.” You shyly say and he chuckles softly.
Jaemin and Yunjin finally walk back into the living room.
“Is everyone here?” She asks and Jamein shakes his head.
“We’re waiting for Mina.” Jaemin says and your eyebrows furrow.
“Who’s Mina?” You ask and Yunjin walks over to come sit next to you.
“Mark’s girlfriend. She lives further away from campus.” Yunjin says and you nod your head. Just then, Mark walks out and sits back down where he was sitting previously.
The atmosphere was a little awkward and you felt yourself curl up into a ball. You could feel Jeno’s eyes on you but you choose to ignore it, looking at anywhere but him. Finally, the doorbell rings signaling Mina’s arrival. Mark goes to open the door and greets her with a kiss.
“Okay, let’s go.” Yunjin says and walks to Jaemin, intertwining their hands. You’re the last one out of the door and you turn around to lock the door humming to yourself.
You turn back around and see Jeno waiting for you as the rest of them start walking to the parking garage.
“You didn’t have to wait for me.” You joke and he laughs.
“It’s okay, I didn’t want to really be with the couples anyway.” He says and you laugh, the two of you trailing behind the rest of the group.
Mark and Mina walk towards her car and you follow the rest of them into what you assume to be Jeno’s car since Jaemin was getting in the back seat. You turn to look at Yunjin who wiggles her eyebrows at you teasingly. You jokingly roll your eyes and get into the passenger seat.
“The usual?” Jeno asks and Yunjin nods her head.
He waits a moment for his phone to connect to the car before pulling out of the parking garage and heading to the restaurant. The music started to play and you recognized the song.
Apocalypse - Cigarettes After Sex
“I love this song.” You say out loud, hoping to make conversation.
“Yeah?” He asks and looks over at you quickly.
“Yeah, I love Cigarettes After Sex.” You say and softly laugh.
“What’s your favorite song?” You ask and turn to look at him with a smile.
“Probably ‘K.’ What about you?” He replies and you stop and think for a moment.
“It’s hard to say because I love all of their songs but I’ve been listening to ‘Sunsetz’ a lot recently.” You say and start playing with your fingers.
The conversation dies again but this time it’s not an awkward silence, it’s a comfortable one. A while later, you guys finally reach the restaurant and Jeno parks the car. The four of you get out of the car and meet up with Mark and Mina who were inside the restaurant already.
The six of you sit down at the table and start looking at the menu. It was a Korean Barbeque place. You were at the end of the table, closest to the wall with Yunjin on your left and across from her was Jaemin. Mark and Mina took up the remaining seats.
You look at the menu, debating on what you should get.
“The spicy pork belly is pretty good.” Jeno says across from you. You look up at him and smile.
“Yeah I was thinking about getting that.” You say and he smiles before looking back down at the menu.
“So, Yn. What are you majoring in?” Mina asks you before taking a sip of her water.
“Oh I’m majoring in nursing right now.”
“Oh, no way! Me too!.” Jaemin says and holds out his hand for a high five. You shyly high five him and the conversation continues.
Mark and Mina were both in their second year of college. Mark wanted to become a music producer and his girlfriend wanted to become a veterinarian. Yunjin and Jaemin were in the same year as you and like yourself, Jaemin wanted to become a nurse. You knew that Yunjin wanted to be a lawyer from previous conversations.
Jeno kept quiet most of the time, letting his friends talk before he did. After Jaemin finished speaking you turned to Jeno with questioning eyes.
“What about you?” You ask him and he softly smiles.
“I want to be a car designer.” He sheepishly says and you nod your head.
“That’s cool! I think you’d be good at it.” You say and he laughs.
“How do you know?” He asks teasingly and you look back at him.
“Your car! You added on all of the modifications right?” You say and he nods his head.
The four friends look at each other with knowing smiles before looking back at you and Jeno.
Before you know it, the food arrived. Jeno grabbed a piece of the spicy pork belly and placed it into your bowl of rice.
“Thank you.” You sheepishly say before eating it.
Everyone was so focused on eating that there was almost no conversation. Small conversations here and there but not too long lasting.
After 3 rounds of meat, everyone was stuffed. You wanted to treat everyone since they made you feel so welcomed but Jaemin beat you to it. He slid his card into the tab and gave it back to the server. You pouted a bit and Jeno noticed.
The way your cheeks filled up with air and your lips curled into each other, pressing against each other. He softly laughed and looked away.
“You guys want to drink tonight?” Mark suggests and everyone agrees.
“Yn and I can go grab alcohol and meet you guys back at the apartment.” Jeno says and everyone agrees with the plans.
You softly smile at the thought of spending time alone with him. You walk to his car and get in the passenger seat while waving bye to everyone else. Jeno starts up the car and the music starts playing.
Sunsetz - Cigarettes After Sex
You smile at the familiar instrumental intro of the song. You look over at him and he already has a smile forming on his face.
“Do you want to play 21 questions? We can get to know each other that way.” He asks and you nod your head yes.
“So, what made you come to Korea?” He asks you when the car gets to a red light.
“They have a good nursing program. One of the best in the whole world.” He nods his head at your answer.
You think for a moment before a question pops up in your head.
“How did you meet Jaemin?” You ask him and he softly laughs at your question.
“We were deskmates in middle school. I met him when I was 14.” He says and you smile at the thought of a younger Jeno.
The rest of the car ride was filled with questions bouncing back and forth between the two of you. Walking into the convenience store, you ask him a question.
“What’s your favorite color?” You ask and he laughs loudly at it.
“That’s what you’re asking?” He asks and laughs again when you nod your head.
The both of you walk over to the section with the soju bottles and he grabs a case that has 12 bottles in it.
“Blue.” He answers while walking to the register.
He started pulling out his wallet but you were faster. You tapped your card and when Jeno hears the noise the machine makes he looks up.
“My treat.” You say and he sighs softly.
“You didn’t have to.” He says and you shake your head.
“Your turn.” You say to him, gesturing for him to ask a question. Before he can ask you a question his name gets called.
You turn to look at the girl who called his name. She was gorgeous. Her hair was in all the right places, her makeup looked flawless, and her outfit looked like it was chosen by a stylist. Feeling insecure you wrap your arms around your body and avert your eyes.
“Jeno? That is you!” The girl exclaims and runs over to bring him into a hug.
Jeno keeps his arms down by his sides, not reciprocating the hug back. She pulls away from his embrace and pouts at him.
“What? You don’t even want to hug me?” She asks, batting her eyes at him but he keeps a stoic poker face.
“What are you doing here Giselle? I thought you were in Japan.” He says calmly and she turns her head to look at you. Ignoring his question she walks up to you.
“Hi, I’m Giselle. Jeno’s girlfriend.” She says and your eyes widen a bit.
She holds her hand out for you to take but before you could Jeno steps in front of you and blocks you from her vision, his taller frame towering over her.
“Ex. Girlfriend.” He clarifies and she rolls her eyes.
“Same thing. Aren’t you going to introduce me to your friend?” She says with a smile that looked all too fake.
He sighs and turns to look at you before grabbing your hand in his.
“She doesn’t need to be introduced to you.” He says bitterly.
His left hand wrapping around yours while holding the case of soju bottles in his other hand. He glares at the girl in front of you guys before dragging you out of the convenience store.
He pops open his trunk and lets go of your hand to place the case of alcohol in there. You awkwardly observe him let out a sigh before walking to the passenger door. He gets in the driver's seat and turns the car on.
You look at him and frown when you see his eyebrows furrowed with his eyes closed. Hesitantly, you poke at his eyebrows and his eyes open in shock.
“It’s not good to furrow your eyebrows for a long time.” You say and smile at him.
He softly smiles at you while looking into your eyes. Seeing him up close like this made you realize just how attractive he is. His strong and arched brows, his mole under his eye, his perfect nose, his full lips, even his chiseled jaw. Realizing what you’re doing, you quickly turn away from him and look straight out the window of the car and he softly laughs.
“I’m sorry.” He says and you frown before looking at him.
“Why are you apologizing?” You ask and he sighs again.
“Giselle.” He says, pointing out the elephant in the room. You nod your head and look at him furrowing his eyebrows again.
“We uh… we broke up last year. We dated for about two years before she had to move to Japan. Her dad got a job transfer over there and so her whole family moved. We tried to do long distance and it was going well, until I found out that she cheated on me.” He says and closes his eyes again.
You pout again and look at the man in front of you. How could anyone ever cheat on him? He was so damn perfect. Sure, you only met him today but you knew how genuine he was.
“I’m sorry. You didn’t deserve that.” You say and he softly chuckles.
You quickly look down for a second, trying to focus your attention on your hands in your lap. You slightly jump at the feeling of his hands under your chin. He grabs your chin in between his thumb and pointer finger, your eyebrows furrow feeling the coldness of his rings directly on your skin.
He tilts your face up to look back into his eyes and smirks. You slowly swallow the saliva in your mouth and look into his brown eyes.
“Don’t apologize, you did nothing wrong.” He says and you slowly nod your head.
He lets go of your chin and you sit further back into your seat. He laughs at your action and puts his car in reverse, heading back to your shared apartment with Yunjin.
-
“Finally!” You hear Yunjin say as you open the door.
“Sorry, we had to drive to the one further away because the other one didn’t have any soju in stock.” Jeno lies easily through his teeth.
You furrow at his words before plastering a smile onto your face. “Yeah, the detour was like 20 minutes.” You say, hoping that it made the lie more believable.
Jeno smiles at you, backing him up before placing the case of soju on the counter. He opens up the box and pulls out 3 bottles from it. You walk over to help him put the rest in the fridge and he grabs your hand. You gasp softly and look up at him.
“Thanks.” He says and you nod your head, knowing what he was referring to.
Jaemin had suggested a game of ‘Truth or Drink’ so the six of you were sat around the coffee table . Everyone agreed to let loose and be completely honest, no matter how raw the questions were and if they didn’t want to answer it, they could just take a shot of soju.
“Okay, Yn.” Jaemin starts off and you look at him.
“What was your first kiss like?” He finishes and everyone looks at you, waiting for you to answer.
“Hm, my first kiss.” You repeat and cringe thinking about it.
“It was gross. He kept trying to push his tongue in my mouth.” You say and everyone laughs at the thought of it.
“Okay, Mina. What’s the worst pick up line you’ve ever heard and who said it?” You ask with a smile and she laughs at the question. She looks over to her boyfriend who gasps offendedly.
“The worst pick up line I’ve ever heard was at the club.” She says and Mark groans upon hearing that causing the group to laugh.
“Mark came up to me and said ‘Hey, you owe me a drink. Because when I saw you, I dropped mine.”
Mark screams and cringes as the words leave his girlfriend’s lips. The group laughs and starts teasing him.
“I would’ve thrown my drink at you if you said that to me.” Jeno says and laughs when Mark flips him off.
As the night went on, half the soju case was almost gone. You could feel the alcohol getting to you, your eyesight was starting to blur a bit. The game continues and it was mark’s turn to ask.
“Have you and Yunjin ever got caught doing ‘it’ by someone?”
“Plenty of times.” Jaemin answered quickly with no thought.
Yunjin, feeling embarrassed, hides her face in her hands.
“Oh my god Yunjin, you said you were innocent!” You exclaim and hit her shoulder lightly.
“She’s not innocent at all, one time she wan-mphh” She covers her boyfriend’s mouth before he can embarrass her even more.
She removes her hand from his mouth and he laughs before scanning the room. He looks at everyone before stopping on his best friend.
“Okay, Jeno. Are you completely over what happened last year?” He asks his best friend who tenses up at the question but then relaxes again.
The smile that was once on his face disappears and he clears his throat.
“Um yeah, I would say I am.” Everyone nods their head at his answer and he looks over at you with a smirk.
“Oh no.” You say with a sigh playfully. He just laughs at your reaction and smiles even more.
“You’ve been asking me questions all night, aren’t you curious about anyone else?” You ask jokingly and he shakes his head.
“Nope. Just you, princess.” You cheeks flush at his use of a pet name and you look at him with wide eyes. He chuckles and playfully pinches your cheek.
“What’s the kinkiest thing you like to do during sex?” He asks and your cheek flushes even more.
It’s not like you’ve never had sex, you’ve had a few encounters of it. Keyword, a few. Both times however, were really vanilla so you’ve never experienced anything remotely kinky.
Clearing your throat you slowly pour the soju into your shot glass and take the shot.
“Oh come on princess.” He says and you shake your head no.
“Not telling.” You say and cough when the alcohol goes down the wrong pipe. The group laughs at your misery while Jeno pats your back, also laughing.
Not long after, everyone was slowly starting to drift off to sleep. You slowly were starting to sober up and decided to start cleaning up the mess. You grabbed the empty bottles and placed them in a trashbag.
After cleaning up, you looked around at everyone. Mark and Mina were fast asleep on the couch, cuddled up. You walked over to your bedroom and grabbed a spare blanket from the closet for them.
As you were walking out of your room, you met Jaemin and Yunjin in the hallway. “I’m guessing he’s sleeping with you?”
She nods her head and drags a drunk Jaemin into her room. You walk into the living room and drape the blanket over Mark and Mina. Jeno was fast asleep with his head on the coffee table. You walk over to him and shake him.
“Jeno? Wake up.” You say softly while shaking him awake. He mumbles incoherently before tuning his head to face you.
“Jeno, come on. Go sleep on the couch.” He shakes his head no and whines softly.
“You don’t want to sleep on the couch?” You ask softly while crouching down to him. He shakes his head again and you furrow your brows.
“Where do you wanna sleep?” You ask him and he slowly lifts his head up. He looks towards the hallway and points in your room.
You sigh softly and weigh your options. You could leave him here and have his body be sore tomorrow or you could take him to your room and let him sleep on your bed while you come back to sleep on the couch. Sighing, you grab his hand and help him up.
“Come on, let’s go to my room.” You whisper and he obliges.
He stands up, albeit a little wobbly but he manages to balance his weight, never letting go of your hand. You drag him to your room and place him on the bed. Reaching over. You take off his shoes and place them on the tile floor.
You stare at the sleeping man in front of you and sigh softly. As you go to walk away, he grabs your wrist. You stop in your tracks and turn to look at him.
“Don’t leave me, Giselle.” You hear him say and you widen your eyes.
So he was lying when he said that he was over it. You knew he wasn't with the way that he reacted inside the convenience store. You sigh again and furrow your brows before grabbing his hand that was holding onto your wrist and pull his grip away.
You stare at him again and he has a sour expression on his face. You hesitantly poke at his eyebrows to ease them before walking out of your room, leaving him in there. You walk into the bathroom and look at yourself in the mirror.
Your eyes were red and your mascara was smeared everywhere. The pink lip tint you applied is now gone due to the oil of the food. You take out a makeup wipe and start removing your makeup, all the while thinking about the man in your room.
You barely met him yet he had you wrapped around his finger. You sighed again for the hundredth time that night. After removing all of your makeup, you brushed your teeth before walking back out into the living room.
You decided to sleep on the other couch. After grabbing another blanket from the closet, you laid down and felt your eyelids getting heavy. Sleep slowly overtaking your body. You closed your eyes and let it devour you, not wanting to think about what just happened in the last 20 minutes.
-
You hear voices coming from next to you and open your eyes. The sun was blaring from the balcony window. Squinting your eyes, you sit up and see that everyone was up besides Jeno.
“Want some breakfast?” Jaemin asks from the kitchen and you slowly nod your head.
Your head was pounding and your mouth felt dry. Last night was the first time in a long time that you’ve drank that much. You tried to swallow some saliva to help quench your thirst but it didn’t help at all. Yunjin and Mina came over to sit next to you on the couch. MIna handed you a glass of water and you softly thanked her.
The water was cooling against your dry mouth and throat. Gulping down the water you slowly looked around.
“Where’s Jeno?” Yunjin asks you and you bring the cup down from your lips.
“He didn’t want to sleep on the couch so I took him to my room and came to sleep out here.” You answer and they nod their head.
“Food’s ready.” Jaemin says and the three of you walk over to the dining table where Mark was setting up plates.
“I’m gonna go wake up Jeno.” You say and walk towards your room.
You slowly opened the door, hoping not to wake him up. He was softly snoring and you observed him again before walking closer to him on your bed. The events of last night flash through your brain and you stop in your tracks. Deciding to not think too much, you walk up to him.
“Jeno.” You say and shake him to wake him up.
He slowly opens his eyes and blinks up at you before sitting up fastly. He looks around the room and notices that he’s in your room. You softly laugh at him and shake your head.
“Jaemin cooked breakfast, go eat.” You say and he slowly nods his head before getting up from your covers.
He grabs his shoes and walks out of your room. You sigh once he's out and lay down on your bed, not even caring that you haven’t washed them after he used it. You stare up at the ceiling for a moment before getting up to change into more comfortable clothes.
You fell asleep in your jeans last night and it was itching your legs. Locking your door, you change into a pair of gray loose sweatpants and a tight white long sleeve that was cropped. You looked for your brown fluffy slippers and put them on before walking back out into the kitchen to eat.
-
It’s been a few days since that day and you haven’t seen Jeno at all. You and Yunjin were watching a movie in the living room when you looked over at her and decided to ask the question you were dying to know the answer to.
“Yunjin?” You call out and she turns to look at you.
“What’s up?” She asks.
“Who did Giselle cheat on Jeno with?” You ask and she makes a confused face.
“How did you know about that?” She asks and you panic. You didn't know if you should tell her about what happened at the convenience store but you do anyway.
“When Jeno and I went to go get alcohol, she was there.” You answer and Yunjin sits up from her position.
“She was here? In Korea?” She asks for clarification and you nod your head yes.
“That bitch.” She says softly and looks away before looking back at you.
“She cheated on him with this guy named Shotaro.” She says and you slowly nod your head.
“DId he love her?” You ask again and Yunjin looks at you confusingly.
“Jeno.” You clarify and Yunjin sighs.
“Yeah, I think he did. But once she broke that trust, it was hard for him to get over it.” She explains and you stay quiet.
“Why are you asking?” She asks and you shake your head.
“I was just curious.” You say and she looks at you with squinted eyes before looking back at the tv.
You sat there in silence, thinking about the information that you just received. You grabbed your phone and looked up the name ‘Shotaro’ on instagram. It wasn’t hard to find him after all, there weren't many Shotaros in the world.
Clicking on the first profile that popped up you looked on his page and saw different posts with girls and guys. One picture in particular caught your eye though. It was a picture of Shotaro, Giselle, and Jeno.
She was standing in the middle with her head on Jeno’s shoulder. You frowned and zoomed in on the picture. Her arms wrapped around both of them but even though her head was on Jeno’s shoulder, Shotaro was standing closer to her than Jeno was.
You looked at the date it was posted, 2021. You zoomed back onto Shotaro’s face. He wasn’t bad looking but he definitely wasn’t as handsome as Jeno was. It seems like Jeno and Shotaro were friends or acquaintances at least.
You clicked on the picture to look at the tag and found Jeno’s account. He had no posts but he had story highlights. You clicked on one and saw Jaemin and Mark along with other guys. Tapping through them you looked at them before it changed to another highlight. You noticed that this one had just him.
There were pictures of him at the gym, him biking, him at parties, and more. Just as you were about to look even more, the doorbell rang. You looked up and saw Yunjin looking at you.
“Are you expecting anybody?” She asks you and you shake your head.
Getting up, you walked over to the front door and opened it. Jeno was standing there in a muscle tee and sweats. His biceps were out for everyone to see and you slowly widened your eyes.
“Jeno? What are you doing here?” You ask and look back to see if Yunjin was watching but she wasn't.
“Can we talk?” He asks and you nod your head before walking out to talk in the hallway.
“What’s up? Are you okay?” You ask and he nods his head.
“Yeah. I just wanted to apologize about the other day.” He says and you scoff slightly.
“It’s okay. You were drunk, don’t even worry about it.” You say and he smiles softly. You look up into his eyes and feel yourself smiling as well.
“Is that all?” You ask and he nods his head.
As you turn to walk back inside he grabs your wrist. “Wait!” He exclaims and you turn back to look at him.
“Um, someone I know is throwing a party tonight. Would you like to go with me?” He asks and you furrow your eyebrows.
“Tonight?” You ask and he nods his head.
“Sure, what time should I expect you to pick me up?” You ask and he smiles softly.
“I’ll be here at 9.” He says and you smile with a nod of your head. You turn to walk inside but before closing the door, you wave to him and he does the same.
“Who was it?” Yunjin asks and you drop your smile.
“Uh, Jeno. He invited me to a party tonight.”
“Oh, it must be Haechan’s party.” She says and you furrow your brows.
“How do you know?” You ask and she shrugs her shoulders.
“Jaemin invited me but I declined because I thought we were hanging out tonight.” She says teasingly and your eyes widen.
“Oh shit. Sorry, I already accepted his invite. I can cancel on him.” You say and Yunjin laughs.
“It’s fine, if you’re going then I’ll go too.” She says and grabs her phone to text Jaemin.
You smile and walk into your bedroom. It was already 5pm and you needed time to get ready. You walked into your closet, hoping to find something to wear. Looking through your tops, you found a black tube top and decided to pair it with a blue denim mini skirt.
You knew it was going to be a bit chilly outside, but you didn’t want to ruin your outfit so you opted for freezing tonight. Laying your outfit down on your bed, you walked towards the vanity mirror and started applying makeup. You knew you wanted it to be subtle but still bold enough to compliment your features.
“Hey, what are you wearing?” Yunjin asks while walking in and looking at the outfit on your bed.
“Oh, this is cute!” She exclaims and grabs your jacket to inspect it closely.
“Well, I was going to wear low rise jeans but I thought the skirt was cuter. What about you? What are you wearing?” You say while applying some lip gloss.
You turn towards her and see her in a green mini skirt with a white top. You smile and nod your head yes. “Oh hell yeah! You look hot as fuck.” You say and walk closer to her to look closely at her outfit. She smiles and does a quick turn while posing like models do. You laugh and gently hit her shoulder.
“Is Jaemin picking you up?” You ask and she shakes her head no.
“We usually uber since we both drink but Haechan’s place is really close so we usually just walk.” She says and you nod your head.
“I think he’s coming with Jeno so the four of us will probably just walk together.” She says and walks into your bathroom to look at herself in the mirror. You walk back over to your vanity table and finish getting ready. You finished curling the last strand of hair when the doorbell rang. You hear Yunjin going to open the door and quickly look at yourself in the mirror before grabbing your black platform boots.
As you were putting them on, there was a knock on your door. “Come in!” You yell and the door opens revealing Jeno.
“Hey.” You softly say and smile at him.
He stays near the door, mesmerized by you. Your outfit, your hair, your makeup, everything was so beautiful. He slightly clears his throat before looking away and greets you as well.
“You look beautiful." He says and you shyly smile.
“Thank you.” You say and finally look up to get a glimpse of his outfit for tonight.
He was wearing a purple and black striped shirt with black ripped jeans. His signature leather jacket was draped over his shoulders. His jewelry completed the look. He had the same rings adorning his fingers and you slightly felt a chill run up your spine, remembering the way they felt under your chin. His jet black hair was styled properly this time, showcasing his forehead. You slightly blush and get up to grab your bag. Slipping it over your shoulder, you look at yourself in the mirror one last time.
You turn to Jeno and smile while gesturing for him to leave first so you could close your door. The both of you walked towards the living room so that you guys could all leave. Yunjin and Jaemin were the first ones out of the door and you stayed behind to lock the door. Feeling a sense of deja vu when you see that Jeno was waiting for you.
“Is Giselle going to be there?” You ask Jeno who shakes his head.
“I don’t know. I hope not.” He replies and you nod your head before trailing behind Jaemin and Yunjin who were joined at the hip.
“I think I have a new favorite song from Cigarettes After Sex.” He says and you turn to look at him while walking.
“Really? What song?” You ask curiously and he slightly chuckles.
“Sunsetz.” He says and you gently laugh while pushing him away from you.
“You’re such a follower.” You joke and he laughs before walking close to you again.
The both of you continued small talk while walking to Haechan’s house. Your hands slightly bump into each other since you were walking so closely to each other. Your cheeks flushed every time your hand accidentally brushed against his.
-
As the night went on and more people came you lost sight of your friends. Sighing, you lean your back against a wall and take a sip out of the nasty concoction that was made by Haechan himself. Suddenly you felt someone come stand next to you. You turn to look at the person when you notice how familiar he looked.
“Hi, I’m Shotaro. What’s your name?” You gape at the person in front of you. He was the guy Giselle cheated on Jeno with. You slightly smile awkwardly and give him your name.
“Pretty name for a pretty girl.” He says and you slightly back away from him to put some distance with a fake smile plastered on your face.
“I haven’t seen you around before. Are you new here?” He asks and you nod your head.
“I’m here for college.” You reply dryly and he smiles at you.
You hated to admit that he was an attractive man but you couldn’t do that to Jeno. The two of you just stood there in silence looking at each other.
Unbeknownst to the both of you, Jeno stared from across the room. His hand clenched onto his cup while his tongue poked his cheek. Why the fuck was Shotaro talking to you? And why was he standing so fucking close to you?
Hachan sluggishly wrapped his arm around his friend and laughed. “What’s got you so pissy?”
Jeno huffed and pushed his arm off of him. Haechan follows his gaze and sees Shotaro. Furrowing his brows he straightens up and turns to Jeno.
“I didn’t know he was back.” He says and puts his hand on Jeno’s shoulder.
Seeing enough, Jeno removes Hacehan’s hand from his shoulder and gulps the last of his drink before throwing the cup on the floor. His eyes stayed on Shoitao the whole time he was making his way over to you two.
“Do you want to dance?” Shotaro asks and holds his hand out. Before you could even answer a hand pushes him away.
You look up and see Jeno standing next to you. His nostrils were flared and his eyes were abnormally cold. Glaring at the man in front of him while Shotaro just chuckles.
“Jeno Lee.” He says and smiles while looking straight back at him.
Jeno didn’t reply, he just glared at the guy in front of him before grabbing your hand. As he turned to get the both of you away from him you felt Shotaro pull on your other arm.
“Hey, we were talking!” Shotaro yells and Jeno turns quickly to look at him.
“Let go of her.” He says through clenched teeth and Shotaro just smirks.
He slowly lets go of your arm and continues smirking while Jeno keeps his eyes on him. You slightly tap Jeno’s shoulder, signaling for the both of you to leave. He softly looks back at you and the both of you walk back over to where the rest of his friends were.
“Why were you talking to him?” Jeno snapped and you turned to look at him.
“He came up to me, what was I supposed to do? Ignore him?” You sass back and Jeno just sighs.
“Do you know who he is?” He asks, never letting go of your hand.
Of course you knew who he was but you didn’t want to admit to stalking their Instagram pages so you shake your head no. He sighs and pulls you towards the kitchen counter. Your back hits against it and you let out a soft yelp from the pain.
Jeno steps in front of you, keeping you trapped between his own body and the counter. His taller frame towering over you and you felt a little shy looking into his eyes. You avert your eyes and look down but Jeno grabs your chin to make you look him straight in the eye. Your lashes flutter against your eyes and he softly chuckles.
He leans down so he could whisper in your ear. You freeze up because he was too close to you. His necklace dangling onto your shoulder and the cool metal against your bare shoulder makes your cheeks flush again.
“You’re cute.” He says and you softly giggle.
You can feel your heart rate going up. Trying to calm it down, you inhale a short breath but Jeno catches it. He can feel your heart pounding against his chest and he softly chuckles.
“Do I make you nervous?” He asks and you quickly shake your head no.
He pulls away from your ear and looks at you again with a smirk.
“You sure?” He whispers, leaning closer to your face.
You could feel his breath hitting in your face and it makes you back away a little bit. You didn’t get too far because his hand goes around your waist, pulling you right up against his body. The alcohol in your system and the closeness of your bodies make you start to sweat a bit. It was too hot in here, you needed to get some fresh air.
“I need to- I need to get some air.” You say quietly for him to hear and he smirks while letting go of you.
You huff out a breath and step away from him. You walk towards the sliding door and feel the cool breeze against your skin. Your heart is racing a million beats per minute. You slowly bring your hands to your cheeks and feel how hot they are.
Shaking your head, you try to calm yourself down but a touch on your shoulder scares you. You jump away from the contact and turn around to see Yunjin and Mina there.
“Oh, hi.” You say softly and they both look at you.
“Are you okay?” Mina asks and they both walk closer to you.
“Yeah. I just needed to get some air.” You reply and they both nod their head.
“We saw Shotaro trying to talk to you.” Yunjin says and you sigh.
“Yeah, it was awkward.” You say and inhale a sharp breath.
“Was Jeno friends with him?” You ask and they both look at each other before looking back at you.
“They were very close in high school because they were both in dance club.” Yunjin says and you nod your head again.
“Come on, let’s go drink.” Mina says and wraps her arm around your arm with Yunjin doing the same.
The three of you walk back into the house and walk to the kitchen where the rest of the guys were at. You quickly catch Jeno’s eye and he smirks at you. You shyly smile at him before walking with the girls to the other side of the counter.
You were across from Jeno but you tried not to look at him. Instead, you kept your eyes on Renjun, who was pouring the shots. He passed out the shot cups and you shyly thanked him before grabbing it from him.
The eight of you cheered and clicked your shot cups against each other before downing the shrink. The alcohol was burning your throat and you let out a sour look after swallowing it down.
“That’s nasty.” You say and Renjun laughs.
“It’s Bicardi.” He says and lifts up the bottle to show you.
“It tastes like shit.” You say and Hachan screams.
“Don’t say that about my baby.” Haechan says and grabs the bottle to pat it.
“Don’t worry, she didn't mean that.” He says and you laugh at him.
Jeno kept his eyes on you the whole time. Maybe it was the alcohol in his system or maybe it was his dirty mind that wanted to corrupt you. You seemed so innocent to him, with your sparkling eyes, your skirt riding up so high that he could basically see your panties but you didn’t even notice.
You stupid perfect lips that curl up so sweetly when you smile. Your hair that looked so soft, your belly button piercing that always adds fuel to the boner he was already springing. He was imagining all sorts of things.
His necklaces dangling in front of your face as he pushes himself into you. Your belly button piercing that would glimmer so bright as he was on top of you.
“Jeno!” Renjun’s voice snaps him away from his thoughts. He looks over at his friend who has a knowing smile on his face.
“She’s pretty cute right?” Renjun says and laughs softly when Jeno looks back at you.
“Shut up.” He grumbles and pushes Renjun away slightly who laughs at his friend.
You felt your head spinning and decided that you had enough to drink. You sat down on the counter to keep your body from falling down. You close your eyes to help your headache when you feel a presence in front of you. Opening your eyes, you see Jeno in front of you again.
‘You okay, princess?” He asks and you nod your head.
“Yeah, I just need to calm down a bit.” You say and he nods his head. His hands come to rest on the counter, trapping you again.
Your belly button piercing was on full display for him, the butterfly charm draws him in. He reaches down to play with your piercing and you giggle at his actions.
“It tickles.” You softly say and try to wriggle from his hands but he softly laughs and places his other hand on your waist to keep you from moving.
Feeling bold, you grab his necklace and pull him in closer to inspect it. You smooth your fingers over the cross and he smiles softly watching you. His fingers never leaving your belly button piercing either. You look up into his eyes and smile softly.
“What?” You softly say and he shakes his head.
His eyes formed into those cute little crescent moons. This man was going to be the death of you. You let go of his necklace and sigh.
“My butt hurts.” You say and he softly chuckles again.
He lets go of your piercing and holds his hand out. You take his hand in yours and jump off the counter. You go to grab your bag but he grabs it for you and holds it with his other hand while leading you to the couch.
The smell of marijuana was piercing and your nose scrunched up at the smell. Jaemin was smoking a blunt with Yunjin on his lap. He blew the smoke out away from his girlfriend before passing it to Hachan. Jeno sits down on the couch and pulls you onto him.
You yelp when your butt lands on his thighs. Everyone was lost in conversation and you were lost in your thoughts. Mark passes the blunt to Jeno who takes a drag before blowing it away from your face. You look at him as he takes another hit.
“Wanna try, princess?” He asks and holds out the blunt to you.
You shake your head no and he shrugs his shoulders before passing it back to Mark. Jeno’s hands were wrapped around your waist and he pulled you in closer. His chin resting on your shoulders as he closes his eyes.
You smile softly and place your hands against his. You grab one of them and start playing with one of the many rings he has on. Jeno opens his eyes and watches as you get lost looking and playing with his rings. You shyly smile at him and go back to looking at his rings when a figure catches your eye.
Giselle was walking over and you quietly tapped Jeno’s arm to signal him. He opens his eyes and lets out a soft hum. He looks up and sees her in front of the both of you. The conversation died down as everyone looked at her.
“Can I get a hit?” She asks, looking Jeno straight in the eye. He sits up and squeezes your waist tighter.
“It’s not mine, don’t ask me.” He says and looks at Jaemin.
Jaemin shrugs his shoulders and hands out the blunt to her. She smiles and sits down next to Jeno and you. You roll your eyes at her and go to stand up but Jeno’s hold on you gets tighter. You turn to look at him but he shakes head. He places his chin back onto your shoulder.
“I’m comfortable.” He whispers in your ear and you giggle softly while he laughs.
Giselle looks at you two with a nasty look before hitting the blunt again. Yunjin and Mina look at each other with a roll of their eyes.
“What’s your name?” Giselle asks, looking straight at you. You turn to look at her and plaster a fake smile.
“Yn.” You say and she softly laughs.
“You don’t smoke?” She asks again and you shake your head no.
“Oh, I thought you did because Jeno likes girls who smoke.” She says with a raise of her eyebrows.
You know she’s trying to rile you up and you hate that it’s working. Jeno sighs and opens his eyes to look at her again. He releases you from his grasp and you take that as a sign to get up from his hold.
“Let’s go.” He says and grabs your hand in his again. You shyly take it and look at Yunjin who gets up as well.
“This was fun Hyuck, but I think it’s time for us to go.” She says and holds onto Jaemin as he gets up too.
You wave bye to everyone and walk out of the house with Jeno, Yunin, and Jaemin. Giselle gals at your figure disappearing and scoffs.
“It was just a joke, jeez. What’s their problem?” She asks and takes another hit of the blunt.
Mina scowls at her as she gets up to leave with Mark.
‘You know what the problem is, bitch.” She says angrily and the two of them walk off.
You and Jeno were walking into the direction of your apartment. The chilly air was blowing against your skin and you shiver. He notices and stops walking to take his jacket off. He places them around your shoulders and smiles at you.
You thank him and he grabs your hand to continue the walk. Unbeknownst to you both Jaemin was taking pictures of you two with a big grin on his face.
“Okay, that’s enough.” Yunjin says softly with a giggle and pushes his hand away.
He laughs and puts his phone back into his pocket before grabbing her hand. The four of you finally made it to your guys' shared apartment. Jeno walked you to your room and sat you down on your bed. He kneels down to take your boots off. Your head was pounding so hard you lay down against your pillows.
After he was finished he looked at you fast asleep on your bed. He smiles softly and bends down. He places a quick kiss to your head and whispers a soft “Good night.” before walking out of your room.
“You good to drive?” Jaemin asks and he nods his head.
He takes the keys from Jaemin and the both of them walk out of the apartment to head back to their dorm. Jaemin noticed the way Jeno's lips curved up into a smile. He noticed the way Jeno’s eyes lit up every time he looked at you. He noticed lots of things in his friend that he hasn’t seen in a long time. He smiles softly at his friend who continues the drive home.
-
You woke up the next morning, still in your clothes from last night and your makeup half rubbed off. You walk over to the bathroom to remove your makeup and shower when you notice Jeno’s jacket around you. You smile and go to grab your phone.
you left your jacket - princess
i left it on purpose ;) - Jeno Lee
You smile and heart his message before getting ready to remove your makeup.
-
It’s been a week since you started classes and safe to say, you were not expecting that much work within the first week. It was finally Friday and you just got back to your apartment. Yunjin didn’t have any classes today so she was already home.
“Are you done packing already?” You ask as you walk into her room.
“Yeah. Are you?” She asks and you shake your head no.
Jaemin had a beach house and he invited you all over for the weekend to destress from the first week of school.
“I’m too tired to pack.” You say and she laughs. “Well you better hurry up, They’re meeting here at 2.” She says and you groan.
“That’s in like 2 hours.” You say and she nods her head.
“Yeah, so hurry up. Princess.” She teases you and you hit her gently.
“Shut up! Don’t call me that.” You say laughing and she laughs as well.
“Just go pack.” She says and you laugh before walking to your room to pack for the weekend.
You were only going to be gone until Sunday so you packed 2 bikinis, a few pairs of jeans and sweats, and a few baby cropped tees. You walk over to your undergarments drawer when Jeno’s leather jacket catches your eye.
You smile thinking about the memory last weekend and walk up to it. You grab it and fold it up to put in your bag so you could give it back to him. You tried to give it back to him earlier but he kept trying to push it off, claiming that he had other ones to wear.
You place it into your bag and grab new undergarments to pack. Lastly, you packed your makeup and skincare into a smaller bag and placed it into your duffel bag. After zipping it up you change into comfortable clothes.
You changed into your black one piece spandex and grabbed a white cropped sweater that falls off your left shoulder perfectly. You put a pair of fuzzy white socks on and slipped your feet into your UGG platform slippers. Looking at yourself in the mirror, you smiled before grabbing your bag and walking out into the living room.
You had makeup on already from school so you just touched it up a little bit. You wanted to look cute since you were going to be riding with Jeno. Jaemin and Yunjin were taking Mark and Mina, while Haechan and Renjun brought along their other two friends.
“They’re here.” Yunjin says and you grab your bag and place the strap around your right shoulder.
“Let’s go!” You say and walk out of the apartment first. Yunjin locked up the apartment before following you down to where everyone else was.
You notice Jeno’s black 2023 Mercedes Benz C-Class first. You smile and wave at him as he opens the trunk and grabs your bag from you. You open up your bag and pull his jacket out from it and hand it to him.
He smiles and takes the jacket from you and places it in his trunk as well. He closes the trunk and you walk over to the passenger side door and get inside the car. He gets in the car as well and waits for Jaemin to take off first.
“Are you excited?” He asks and you squeal.
“Yes! I need a break from school.” You say and he laughs.
“It’s barely been a week.” He says and you giggle.
“Yeah but the classes are so hard.” You say and he softly laughs.
“Who’s coming with Haechan and Renjun?” You ask and he looks over at you.
“Our other friends, you haven’t met them yet. Their names are Chenle and Jisung. They’re a bit younger than us.” He says and you nod your head.
He pulls out something from the back seat and gives it to you. It’s a small velvet box. Furrowing your eyebrows you look at him.
“What is it?” You ask softly and giggle.
“Just open it.” He says and you do as he says.
Inside was a thick metal ring adorned with jewels. It was the same one he had on middle finger. You gasp and pull it out from the box, bringing it closer to you so you can inspect it.
“You liked playing with mine so much, I figured I’d just buy you one." He says sheepishly and you smile at him.
“Oh my god, Jeno! It’s so beautiful, thank you.” You say and slip it on your middle finger on your left hand, exactly where it was on Jeno’s finger.
You lift your hand to show him and he laughs at the placement of your ring. Excitedly, you take out your phone and grab his hand to place yours on top. Snapping a quick picture of your guys hands together with the rings on display. You smile in satisfaction and show him.
“Send it to me.” He says and smiles.
You nod your head and quickly pull up his contact to send the picture to him. He looks over at your phone and sees his contact saved as ‘Jeno Lee.’ He scoffs and grabs your phone from your hands.
“Hey!” You exclaim and try to get it back but he pushes your hand away.
He changes his name to ‘jen’ and saves it before handing your phone back to you. You laugh once you see his contact name and look at him.
“What’s my name saved as?” You ask with a smile on your face.
He pulls out his phone and goes to your contact before turning his phone around and showing you. You stare at the ‘princess’ and laugh, pushing his shoulder away.
“You’re annoying.” You say and he laughs before charging his phone.
“You got your nails done?” He asks, grabbing your hands to inspect your nails closely.
You recently got them done with Yunjin and Mina. They were a nude pink color with glitter and charms adorned around them. You nod your head as he plays with the butterfly charm on your middle finger.
“I wanted to make them pretty.” You say and he softly laughs.
You look out the window and notice Jaemin’s car leaving. Jeno lets go of your hand and puts his car in reverse to follow them.
“Can you GPS the way just in case we get separated?” He asks and you nod your head before grabbing his phone.
“Password?” You ask and he quickly says the password code before you click on the group chat with the 10 of you.
You click on the address that Jaemin sent earlier this week and it starts showing the map on Jeno’s dashboard. You swipe out of the app and go to his Spotify. You look through his playlist and find one titled ‘Princess.’ Smiling, you click on it and see that it’s all Cigarettes After Sex songs. You click on ‘Sunsetz’ and the song begins to play. Jeno lets out a laugh at the song choice and shakes his head.
-
After a two hour car ride, you and Jeno finally arrive at the house. Jeno parks his car and you undo your seatbelt. Stepping out of the car, you walk towards the trunk and grab your bag. He follows you and grabs his bag as well.
The two of you walk inside the beach house and notice how big it was. It was squeaky clean like a brand new house. You walk through the house, looking in awe at how beautiful it was. After you finished looking at it, everyone was gathered in the living room.
“So there’s 5 rooms, everyone is going to have to share a room.” Jaemin says and grabs his girlfriend’s hand.
“Me and Yunjin, Mark and Mina, Jeno and Yn, Haechan and Renjun, and Jisung and Chenle.” Jaemin finishes and everyone nods their head in agreement.
“Every room is available besides the master bedroom, that’s where Yunjin and I will sleep.” He says and you and Jeno rush to get the best room.
You open the door and squeal when you look inside. There was a beautiful balcony with a view of the beach right outside. You were in awe of the balcony that you barely noticed the one bed but when you did your eyes widened.
You’re sharing one bed with Jeno. You look over to him and he laughs at your expression. He walks over to you and looks out the window with a smirk.
“Don’t worry, I’ll behave.” He says and walks to the bed to set his bag down. You awkwardly laugh and play it off.
“I’m not worried at all.” You say and shake your head.
Jeno raises his eyebrows at your lie and smirks before sitting on the bed. You go to place your bag on the bed as well when Jeno grabs your wrist and pulls you down onto the bed. His body hovering over yours causing his necklaces to dangle in front of you.
You eyes widen and you try to get up from his grasp but he pins your arms down above your head. He smirks and laughs at you before getting up and letting go of you.
“Not worried at all, my ass.” He says and chuckles. You sit up and huff at him.
“Shut up. You just caught me off guard.” You lie again.
He lets out an amused smile and nods his head knowing the truth. You get up to unzip your bag and grab your makeup bag to put on the desk table in the corner of the room. After doing that, you walk out into the kitchen to help Mina and Yunjin prepare the meat so Jamein can barbecue it.
Jeno sat on the bed and pulled his phone out. He looks at the photo you sent him and stares at it for a second before saving it and going to Instagram. He clicks on the photo and puts ‘Sunsetz’ as the music background before posting it.
He smiles looking at the finished product and turns his phone off before joining the rest of you guys in the kitchen. He can hear your laugh and it brings a smile to his face again. He walks outside and over to Jaemin who's preparing the grill and helps him.
You were washing the rice when Yunjin let out a gasp. You and Mina turn to look at her and she squeals before showing her phone to you guys. The picture that you just took earlier today blaring through her phone. You widen your eyes and clear your throat.
“That’s you right?” Mina asks while looking at you with a shocked face.
“No.” You shake your head and try to lie but the two of them smirk.
“Yn, we all got our nails done together.” Yunjin says and grabs your left hand to match the nails and the ring to the picture.
“Oh my god! Are you guys dating?” Mina asks excitingly and you shake your head.
“No we aren’t. I don’t even know what we are.” You say and Yunjin pouts at your words.
“Do you like him?” She asks and you sigh before nodding your head.
“But, I know that he’s not over whatever happened with Giselle so it’s impossible.” You say placing the bowl into the rice cooker.
Mina and Yunjin pout before walking over to you. They both hug you to comfort you and you smile at them.
“I’m okay, I promise.” You say and the two of them look at each other before looking back at you. They let go of you and the three of you continue to prepare the food.
After Jaemin finished grilling the meat, everyone was sitting outside enjoying the food and the weather. You were sitting in between Mina and Jeno. The latter’s Instagram story is still reeling in your mind. Why did he even post that? What was he trying to do when he posted it? 
You looked over at him laughing along to something Haechan said, you didn’t bother to pay attention to the conversation. Jaemin must’ve caught you staring because next thing you know you feel a kick on your leg. 
You looked across to him and he smiled while raising his eyebrows teasingly. You shake your head and laugh. 
“I just spaced out.” You say, trying to defend yourself. 
“Sure you did.” Jaemin teases and you flip him off jokingly. 
The conversations continue until Haechan screams and runs away from Jeno who's chasing him. You laugh at them and sip on your water. Setting the glass down, you start playing with the ring on your middle finger. Twisting it around to help distract yourself.
“That’s a nice ring.” Mark says with a smirk.  
“Oh, thanks. It was a gift.” You say and smile while he slightly laughs. 
“From who?” He asks again, leaning closer to get a good look at you. 
“Um, I forgot.” You lie and take a sip of your water. 
Mark laughs at you again and goes to say something but Mina nudging him makes him stop talking. You slightly scoff and go back to eating when Jeno sits back down. He goes to grab his glass of water but it’s empty. 
He looks over at yours and grabs it before drinking out from it. He sets the glass back down where it was and smiles at you. You don’t say anything as you continue to eat the meat that Jaemin barbequed. 
As everyone finished eating, you started cleaning up along with Mina and Yunjin. You gathered up the dirty plates and put them in the sink while the other two went to retrieve more dirty dishes. You started washing the dishes when Jaemin came over to help you. 
“Oh, it’s okay Jaemin. I got it.” You say and he waves off your comment. 
“It’s fine.” He says and starts rinsing the soapy dishes.
“Anything you wanna talk about?” You ask, hoping to ease the conversation. 
“Not really.” He says while looking at you causing you to laugh slightly. 
“How do you like the friend group so far?” He asks. 
“Oh, you guys are really fun. It’s very different from my friend group back at home." You say and continue to wash the dishes. 
“How so?” Jaemin inquires. 
“Well, for starters there’s not a lot of us in the friend group. There’s only four of us and we didn’t really hang out with guys. I mean, we did, but they weren’t part of our immediate friend group.” You explain and he nods. 
“Do you ever miss home?” He asks and you sigh quietly. 
“I do. But, at the same time it’s good to have new experiences so I’m really glad I came over here for college.” You say with a smile. 
“I see why Yunjin likes you so much.” Jaemin says and laughs. 
“What do you mean?” You ask and laugh as well. 
“You guys are just so alike. You always want to see the good in things, even in people.” He says and you laugh again. 
“Like you?” You tease and he glares at you playfully. 
“I wasn't that bad.” He defends and you laugh. 
“Yeah right. You turned from this playboy who slept around to being in a fully committed relationship.” You say and he shrugs his shoulders. 
“Maybe I was just waiting for the right person to come along.” He says and looks over at you. You just nod your head at his answer and he almost groans in frustration.
How could you not understand that he was also talking about you and Jeno. You both were the most dense people he’s ever met. Of course he and his girlfriend gossip about you guys- you’re her roommate and Jeno’s his best friend for Christ's sake. 
He knew you liked his friend, Yunjin told him. And, he knew that his friend liked you as well, even if he didn’t want to admit it. The way that Jeno acted around you was different than how he was around any other girl, even Giselle. 
Jeno cares for you in more ways than one. Like when he gave you his jacket, or when he was holding your hand, or protecting you from Giselle, or buying you a ring, or posting you on his public social media account for goodness sakes. 
After finishing up the dishes, you changed into your bikini to go swimming in the pool. Walking out onto the deck you placed your towel on the chair before jumping into the water. The coolness of it relaxes your tense body. 
You swam alone for about five minutes until you heard the door open and close. Looking over, you find Jeno walking towards the pool in nothing but his black swimming trunks - matching your black bikini. You smile slightly and continue swimming when he gets in. 
“Didn’t find you in the room.” He says and you laugh. 
“I just wanted to clear my mind a bit.” You reply while swimming to him. 
“Something wrong?” He asks and you shake your head immediately. 
“No, nothing’s wrong.” You say and he stares at you. 
He knows that you’re lying, whenever you lie you always avert your eyes and press your lips together. He walks closer to you and backs you up against the wall of the pool. 
“Jeno.” You softly say but he cuts you off by placing his hands around your thighs. 
You whimper quietly as he places your legs around his waist. His dark eyes staring abc into yours and you have to bite your tongue to not release a moan. 
“Jeno.” You say quietly and he brings his face closer to you. 
“Hm?” He asks and you try to avert your eyes but he stops you. 
“Look at me.” He says and you listen to him. 
You look into his eyes and say nothing. He leans down further and starts pressing butterfly kisses on your neck. You let out a soft whimper before biting your lip. 
“Tell me what’s wrong.” He says before kissing your neck again. He makes his way up to your jaw and starts placing kisses there as well. 
You grip his shoulders tightly as you try to answer him but you couldn’t think of any words. Your mind was hazy, trying to tell him what was bothering you. You let another whimper when he harshly sucks on your neck, leaving a mark there. He pulls back and smiles devilishly at the mark he left before placing one last kiss on it. 
“If you don’t tell me, I’ll stop.” He says and you whimper again while shaking your head. 
“I can’t- I can’t concentrate if you do that.” You admit and he softly chuckles. 
He pulls back fully and looks into your eyes, his eyes begging for you to answer him. With a sigh, you look away from him and close your eyes before opening them and speaking. 
“What are we?” You ask and he furrows his brows. 
“What do you mean?” He asks for clarification. 
“I mean what are we? Why are you buying me gifts and acting like you’re my boyfriend when you’re not.” You say and feel your eyes getting teary. 
“I don’t like feeling like this Jeno. I don’t like feeling like the second option.” You say and he puts your legs down to hold your waist and bring you closer. 
“What do you mean it feels like a second choice?” He asks and you sigh again. 
“The first night we met and you slept in my room. You called me Giselle and begged for me to not leave you.” You admit and sniffle. 
Jeno shushes you and brings your head into his chest. After you calmed down a bit, he pulled back and looked at you again. 
“I promise, I’m over her. I don’t know why I said that, it was probably because Jaemin asked me about the situation and seeing her again… it was just too much for me.” He explains and cups your face into his hands. 
“I would never hurt you, princess.” He says and you whimper at the pet name. He chuckles at your response and brings his face closer to yours. 
“Can I kiss you.” 
You nod your head and that’s all Jeno needs before he crashes his lips onto yours. His lips were soft and tasted like mint. You followed his rhythm while wrapping your arms around his neck. His hands go lower to your butt and cups them, earning a moan from you. 
He smiles at the sound and pulls away from you to place kisses on your neck once again. “Jeno.” You moan his name, and he smiles into your neck. 
He smiles at the sound and pulls away from you to place kisses on your neck once again. “Jeno.” You moan his name and he smiles into your neck. 
“We should head inside.” You say unwrapping yourself from him. 
He nods his head at your suggestion and lets go of your waist. You slowly back away from him and smile shyly before turning around to walk out of the pool. He stares at your ass as you walk out and lets out a groan. 
“Do you have to look so hot walking out of the pool?” He retorts to you and you turn to flip him off jokingly before grabbing your towel and wrapping it around your body. 
He steps out of the pool as well and grabs his towel. You wait for him to dry himself off before the two of you walk back inside the house. A shy smile adorned your face the whole time. You still didn’t know what you and Jeno were, but at least you knew that he was completely over Giselle. 
You walk into your room and grab your skincare as well as a change of clothes before heading to the bathroom to shower. Slowly, you took off your clothes and stepped into the shower. The hot water burns your skin but that’s how you liked your showers. 
You lathered your rose scented shampoo into your hands before thoroughly applying it into your hair. You couldn’t help but think about what just happened. Your heart was bursting just remembering the kiss. You felt like a teenage girl experiencing some kind of first love. 
You softly giggled at your thoughts as you finished your shower. Stepping out of the tub, you reached over to a new towel to dry your body and apply some moisturizer on your face. As you rubbed the moisturizer between your hands, you glanced at the ring on your middle finger and smiled again. 
After changing into your pajamas (a pair of blue loose sweats and a white cropped tank top), you blow dried your hair. Once you were done, you walked out of the bathroom and into your shared room with Jeno. He was laying on the bed, having finished his shower earlier than you. 
He smiled and watched as you put your things away. He shuts off his phone and places it on the nightstand next to where he’s sleeping. You walk over to the bed and lift the covers up so you could slide in next to him. 
“Hi.” You softly say to him and he shortly laughs before greeting you back. 
“How was your shower?” He asks and you snuggle into the pillow. 
“It was relaxing, how was yours?” He turns his body to face you. 
“Good, I feel clean.” He replies and you stare into his eyes. 
Hesitantly, you bring your pointer finger up and trace his facial features. You traced over his eyebrows and nose before making your way to his mole under his eye. He laughs and his eyes turn into those little crescent moons that you love so much. 
“I love your eyes.” You say and trace over his eyelashes. 
“I like when they turn into moons when you smile.” You say and he laughs before grabbing your hand and placing it on his chest. 
You can feel his heartbeat, it was speeding up. You chuckle softly and look at him with your eyebrows raised. 
“My heart does that every time I think about you.” He softly says and you nuzzle your face into your pillow, getting shy. 
“Stop it.” You say and giggle. 
‘It’s the truth.” He says and brings your hand to his lips. 
He places a chaste kiss onto the back of your hand before placing it back onto his chest. 
“When we get back home, would you like to go on a date with me?” He asks, staring straight into your eyes. 
You nod your head and your lips curl up into a smile. “I would love to.” 
You lift your head up from the pillow and Jeno opens his arms to let you embrace him. His arms wrap securely around your figure and he sighs in content. 
“Goodnight, Jen.” You say to him and nuzzle in closer to his body. 
“Sweet dreams, princess.” He says and places a quick kiss onto your head before nuzzling into it. 
The both of you stay in that position all night long. His heartbeat and touch brought a sense of comfort to you and you didn’t ever want to let go of that feeling. Meanwhile, the boy next you was feeling the exact same way. 
-
Jeno wakes up the next morning reaching for your body only to be disappointed when he opens his eyes and realizes you’re not there. He rubs the sleepiness from his eyes and gets out of bed. 
Making his way to the kitchen, he’s greeted by the sight of you cutting up some fruit. You were so focused on cutting the watermelon that you didn’t hear him approach you. You slightly panic when you feel arms wrap around you from behind but once you recognize the rings, you instantly smile. 
“Good morning, sleepyhead.” You say to him and he grumbles in response. 
He places his chin on your shoulder and looks over at the watermelon that you’re currently cutting up. 
“That looks good." He comments and you giggle softly. 
“Do you want a piece?” You softly ask and feel his head nod on your shoulder. 
You grab a piece that you’ve already cut up and raise it to his lips. He opens up and eats the fruit from your hands. 
“Yummy?” You ask and he nods his head again in response. 
The conversation dies down after that. Occasionally, you would feed him pieces of fruit while he gladly ate them. Once you cut up enough fruit for all of you guys to enjoy, you turn around in his embrace to look at him. 
He smiles at you and leans in closer. He closes his eyes, going in for a kiss but you’re quicker. You shove a piece of strawberry into his mouth and he grumbles. 
“Someone might walk in.” You say softly and he shakes his head. 
“I don’t care. Let them see.” He says and leans in again. 
You shriek and escape from his grasp with the bowl of fruit in your hands. 
“Go wash up.” You tell him and he grumbles softly before walking into the bathroom. 
Today, you were all going to the beach and having a bonfire night. You put sunscreen, sunglasses and two towels in your bag, one for you and one for Jeno. After packing up the bag, you walk over to your duffel bag and pull out your baby pink bikini. 
After changing into it, your hickey was on display for everyone to see, so you looked into your bag for an oversized shirt. Jeno walks in just at that moment and whistles at you. You stand up from where you’re bending over and roll your eyes at him. 
“What are you looking for, princess?” He walks closer to you and you sigh. 
“I’m looking for an oversize shirt to wear over my bikini, but I don’t think I packed any.” You pout and he laughs before unzipping his duffel bag. 
He digs through his bag and pulls out a gray t-shirt. He looks at it for a second before walking over you and handing it to you. 
“Here you go.” He says and smiles when you grab it. 
You slip it on and look at yourself in the mirror. His shirt barely covered your ass but at least you were more covered than before. 
“Thanks, Jen.” You say and turn to place a quick kiss on his cheek which makes him blush. 
He waits for you to grab your bag before holding his hand out for you. You take his hand in yours and the both of you walk to the beach, catching up with the rest of your friends. 
-
You were sitting on the big beach towel with Mina and Yunjin and catching up on last night’s events. 
“I knew it!” Yunjin squeals and pulls you into her embrace. 
You laugh and pat her back while observing the boys play in the water. Haechan was on Mark’s shoulder, Chenle on Jeno’s, and Jisung on Jaemin’s while Renjun was the referee. They were playing chicken fight and trying to knock each other off. 
You grabbed your phone and quickly took photos of Jeno just for you to keep before taking pictures of the three of you. After spending about 3 hours in the sun, you all agreed that it was time to go back to the house. 
Once everyone was back, they all went to their separate rooms, tired from their beach day. You quickly washed your feet before slipping into bed with Jeno for a nap. Jeno’s arms were around you and he had that devilish smirk he always has on. 
He sits up and lays on top of you, his necklace dangling over you. He slides his shirt over his head and  you widen your eyes and try to stop him but he pins your hands above your head. He leans in and starts placing kisses on your jaw before going lower. 
You softly moan and try to break free from his grip, wanting to touch him. He slightly chuckles before releasing your hands. Instantly, they travel to his hair and you slightly pull on it. He sucks particularly hard on your soft spot and you let out a loud moan. 
“Quiet, princess. We don’t want everyone hearing you do we?” He says to you with his head tilted as if he was mocking you. 
You whimper and bite your bottom lip to keep the noises from coming out. His hands teasingly run up and down the sides of your torso. 
“Jeno.” You softly whisper and he chuckles. 
“I know, baby. You gotta be patient okay? Can you do that for me?” He asks, looking into your eyes and you nod your head. 
“Good girl.” He says and his fingers slowly go towards the waistband of your shorts. 
Your belly button piercing on display for him to see and he groans at the sight of it glimmering underneath him. He pushes his fingers against your core teasingly which draws out a whimper from you. 
“Take it off please.” You beg and he almost cums at how whiny you sound. He slowly pulls your shorts down and sees the growing wet spot on your pink lacy panties. 
“You’re such a slut.” He degrades and you whine from his usage of words. 
“M’ not.” You defend and writhe underneath him. 
“No?” He asks teasingly before sliding a finger in between your folds through your panties. 
“Jeno.” You moan loudly at the contact and he brings his hands over your lips to muffle the noises. 
“Quiet baby.” He says and removes his hands from your mouth while leaning into your neck. 
‘You’re so wet, princess. Who are you so wet for huh?” He asks while sliding your panties down to your thighs. 
Your glistening folds make his dick grow even more and he can’t help himself. He slides his finger through your folds teasingly as you try to contain your moans. Your hands go around to his back and grip him tightly. He slips a finger into your hole and you squeeze your eyes shut. 
You moan loudly at the feeling of his fingers inside of you, not answering his question. Jeno groans at your lack of answering and rips your panties off your body. You gasp as you hear the tearing of fabric.
“Jeno! Those were my favorite.” You say and he darkly chuckles. 
He moves one of his hands from your waist to your neck. His grip tightens and you gasp at the feeling of your airway being blocked. 
“You answer me when I ask you a question, princess.” He says seductively and stops pumping his fingers into you.
You whine at the loss of friction and he squints his eyes at you before pulling out completely. 
“No.” You quietly whimper out and Jeno tightens his grip around your neck even more. 
“Answer me.” He growls and you can feel your heat getting wetter. 
“You!” You say, trying your best to get the words out. 
He smirks and brings his lips back onto yours. His grip gets even tighter making you feel light headed from the loss of oxygen. He slowly lets go of your neck and pushes his finger into your heat again. You moan into his lips and he feels his cock getting harder. 
He pushes in another finger and you moan into his ear. “Jeno please!” You beg and he laughs cockily at you. He kisses your cheek before moving to your ear. 
“Please what, princess? What do you want?” He asks and you groan in frustration. 
“Please. Mphh… Want you inside me.” You say, whining when his fingers start to pump faster and harder into you. 
“Jeno! M’ gonna cum!” You babble and he groans into your ear. 
“C’mon princess, cum all over my fingers. I know you can do it. You’ve been such a good girl.” He says and edges you on even more. 
Your moans grow progressively louder and Jeno has to clamp his hands over your mouth again to muffle them. You feel the knot in your stomach tighten before it breaks. You finish with a loud moan that’s muffled but he doesn’t stop his ministrations. He moves his fingers even faster causing you to try to push him away. 
“Jeno! M’ sensitive!” You muffle out, gripping his arm hoping that he’ll remove his fingers but he doesn't. 
He grabs your hands and pins them against the bed again. He licks a stripe up your neck and sucks harshly again, leaving a trail of his marks starting from your ear all the way down to your chest. 
“Jeno, I’m gonna-” You're interrupted when a second orgasm washes over you and you let out a shrilling moan, hoping that no one was awake to hear. 
"That's it baby.” He says and slowly pulls his fingers from your heat. 
You babble and hum out incoherent words as you try to catch your breath. He pushes his shorts past his dick and gets on his knees. You look at his angry red tip. He was so huge and you gasp as you try to squirm away from him. 
“Jeno, I can’t.” You attempt to say through heaving breaths but he just laughs and grips your thighs to bring you back closer to him. 
“Yes you can, baby. I know you can take it." He says and spreads your legs further apart. He lines up his tip with your entrance. He lets out a quiet groan when he feels your gummy walls around him. 
You bite your lip to not let you moans out as you feel his bare dick inside you and you try to catch your breath. He was so much bigger than you expected. The stretch was too painful as he quickly pushed himself all the way in. He was bigger than anything you’ve ever taken before.
“S’ too big.” You mewl out and he laughs. 
You were fueling his ego even more and you didn’t even know it. 
“I know, baby. I know.” He says and stays still for a bit so you can get used to his size. After a minute, you nod your head and give him the green light. 
He pulls out and slams himself back into you causing you to put your hands over your mouth. You chant his name in your hands like a mantra and that only fuels him more. 
He starts thrusting inside you harder, faster, and deeper. You quickly wrap your hands around him and shove your face into his neck. He was reaching places that you didn’t even know existed. Your vision was so blurry, you felt like you were seeing stars. Your freshly done nails scratched against his back and biceps. 
“I can feel you, baby. You’re almost there.” He says into your ear and you nod your head. His grip on your hips were so tight, you were sure there were going to be bruises tomorrow. 
‘C’mon baby, cum. Cream all over my dick.” He says raspily into your ears and that’s all you need before the knot comes undone, creaming all over his cock. He groans at the sight and chases after his own orgasm. 
He finishes inside of you and leans his head into your neck. He places kisses all over the marks he left on your body. You smile and run your fingers through his hair. Giggling, you pull his head away from your neck and place a quick kiss on his lips. 
He smiles and leans his forehead against yours. He breathes you in deeply with you doing the same. The smile never leaves both of your faces. Your tummy was so warm with his cock buried inside, you didn't want him to pull away. 
However he does and you wince at the loss of him. His cum leaks out of your whole and he reaches down to push it back in. 
“Jeno!” You yelp and he laughs before sliding his finger out. 
“Didn’t want it to go to waste.” He says while looking at his art work. Your core was throbbing with spurts of white escaping and he felt himself getting hard again but he knew you couldn’t go on anymore. 
He grabs his discredited shirt off the floor and wipes at your core before grabbing another pair of panties from your bag. He slides it up your thighs and places a kiss over them before pulling his own shorts and boxers up. 
You get up from the bed to go pee before getting back into bed with him. He wraps his arms around you again as you lay close to him. You sigh blissfully as he places his head in between your boobs. He gets a perfect view of your neck covered in his marks from there and smirks. Your hands go to his hair and you start playing with it. Sooner or later the both of you pass out from exhaustion. 
-
Your eyes flutter open as you look around for Jeno but he is nowhere to be found. The sunlight from earlier is now gone. You get out of bed and change into a pair of sweats. You knew it was a bit chilly outside since you could see the tree leaves swaying back and forth. 
You go to Jeno’s bag and pull out a black hoodie. Quickly slipping it on, you walk outside to the bonfire where everyone is sitting. You walk up to Jeno who gestures for you to sit on him. You sit down on his lap and wrap your arms around his neck. 
He passes the blunt to Jaemin before wrapping his arms around you. 
“Do you want a drink, Yn?” Jisung asks and hands you a cup filled with jungle juice. You slightly thank him before taking a sip. 
“Good?” The man under you asks and you nod your head at him. 
He glances at your hoodie and notices that it’s his. He doesn’t say anything but he smiles at the thought of you wearing his clothes again. 
You watch the fire as everyone around you engages in their own conversations. Looking around, you catch Jaemin looking at you and Jeno. He brings his hands up and gives you a thumbs up which causes you to laugh slightly. 
You look back down to Jeno to find him already staring at you. He slightly chuckles and intertwines your hands together. You smile sheepishly and he can’t help but to plant a kiss on your cheek. You gasp and hit his shoulder lightly with your free hand while he laughs. 
You pull your phone out from your (his) hoodie pocket and furrow your eyebrows when you see that Giselle started following you on Instagram. Quietly, you show it to Jeno who rolls his eyes. 
“Just block her, that’s what I did.” He says and you nod your head but you don’t actually do it. You just turn your phone off. 
-
Unfortunately time flew by too fast and you found yourself in class 3 months later. Your professor was rambling on about something that you could care less about. You looked at the clock and let out a breath of relief when you noticed that there was only 5 minutes left of class. 
Quietly, you start packing up your bag and shutting down your laptop. Just as you finish packing, the professor dismisses you guys while talking about the assignment due next week. You jump out of your seat as soon as she’s done talking and quickly walk out. 
Your phone pings and you look at it while walking. 
we’re waiting for you baby -jen
okay, coming! :) -princess 
You quickly speed up and walk over to the parking lot where everyone was gathered around their cars. You happily skip to Jeno who’s leaning against the hood of his car. His arms open wide as he waits for you to embrace him. 
He groans when you throw your arms around his neck and smiles. 
“Missed you.” He says and squeezes you tighter to him. 
“You just saw me this morning.” You say with a giggle and he shrugs his shoulders. 
“I always miss you.” He admits and kisses you quickly on the lips. 
Jeno and you finally made it official a few weeks ago after “talking” for two months. You guys were on a date like usual only this time you guys were walking in the park and enjoying the first snowfall of the season. 
“I love the snow.” You say, smiling wildly as you catch a falling snow in your hand. 
Jeno observes the way your eyes light up as you bring it closer to your face to inspect it. He felt his heartbeat fasten and he knew he had to ask you right then and there. He tugs on your hand that he was holding and you look up at him. 
What’s wrong?” You ask as you stare into his eyes. 
Jeno inhales sharply before looking at you. 
“Will you be my girlfriend?” He asks quickly and your eyes widen. 
You softly let out a laugh and wrap your arms around him and he reciprocates. You pull away and plant a kiss onto his lips before pulling away and squealing with a “Yes!” 
He laughs at your reaction and brings you in closer. His hand going to cradle your head as he connects both of your lips together again. 
Your arms go to his waist as you hold him tightly while kissing him back. He pulls away and you nuzzle your head into his chest. His arms squeeze and pull you in closer. The snowfall started falling harder but you both didn’t care. You stood there in each other’s embrace as the snow hit the ground.
“Let’s go.” Jaemin says and the eight of you pile into the cars to head over to lunch. Jeno opens the passenger door for you and you quickly get in before he closes it and rushes over to the driver’s seat. He gets in and places his hand on your thigh. 
You smile and grab his hand that’s on yours before he reverses his car and pulls out of the parking lot. Jeno wasn’t in your plans when you first arrived but you’re so glad he meddled his way into your life. As you look over at him, you smile and press a kiss to his cheek which makes me smile. 
His eyes make those cute little crescent moons that you love so damn much. He brings your hand to his lips and kisses the back of it before placing your hands back into your lap. You fell hard for Jeno and you still continue to fall hard for him. 
No amount of measurements could measure how happy you feel right now. If falling for someone felt this good, you would’ve done it a long time ago. But then again, maybe it only feels good because it’s Lee Jeno you’re falling for. 
End.
Thank you So much for reading my first ever fic! I spent so much time planning and rewriting this, but I'm glad to finally have it out for you guys to read. Sending you lots of love and kisses!
xoxo, jenoroyals
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moghedien · 13 days
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but imagine Lae’zel’s panic after the act 1 romance scene when it didn’t work
because there wasn’t supposed to be a romance between you and her. She made it very clear that this was a one night stand and once you agreed, she was going to take from you what was hers and be done. She found you unusually attractive and was going to sate her lust and curiosity and be done.
She starts the scene by tellling you that githyanki know their bodies inside and out. And she definitely knows what she wants from you sexually and makes you give it to her, to the point of using you like a brand new hitachi until you’re exhausted and in pain the next day. Like she absolutely had sex like she was trying to get everything outta you in one go, and once it is the next day, she’s done. She won’t humor the idea of continuing. She won’t humor the idea of even staying around and just sleeping together. She got what she needed and now you can both be done
Only it doesn’t work.
She accuses you of being the one to stare at her and continue to desire her, and she mocks you for being weak and pathetic but says that she will have you again if you “tempt” her. Nevermind the fact that tempting her requires no kind of check and she basically agrees to fuck you again no matter what you say. Also nevermind the fact that in order to notice you staring so much, she woulda had to have to intentionally been watching you. And nevermind the fact that as soon as you say you’d like to have sex again, she starts indicating that she definitely still wants you despite having used you to the fullest already.
So you have sex again. You can indicate that you’d like her to stay and cuddle this time and she’s VERY uncomfortable with the idea. She also indicates she has never done so, but that doesn’t matter. Why would she need to stay after the act was done? Why would you want her to?
Once should have been plenty for Lae’zel. Twice was overkill, surely. And maybe you think so too given she’s basically silent on your relationship until the middle of act 2. But as soon as she brings it up, it’s clear that the silence was only on your part.
Because Lae’zel has been fighting a fucking war in her head. Her world view came crashing down on her. Her goddess betrayed her and her people have turned on her. There’s a tadpole in her head that can turn her into a monster at pretty much any moment. But she has one invader in her mind and that’s you.
She knew her body and knew that she got what she wanted to satisfy it. She should be done with you, but she can’t be. Because she knew her body but clearly didn’t know her mind. Or heart. Everything that has happened to her up until this point has shown that, but YOU are just making it more confusing. She can figure out what the deal with the tadpoles are. She can figure out why Vlaakith lied. She can’t figure out why she can’t stop obsessing over you and by the time she confronts you about it, it is clearly scaring the shit out of her.
Something is either wrong with her or with you, and she needs to figure out which it is. You fight her, and no matter what, she comes out of it wanting the two of you to protect each other. She wants the two of you to belong to each other. It’s still clearly confusing but she’s at least recognized that she wants now.
And by the time you get to act 3, she’s asking you for softer touches and gentleness and affection. Shes terrified but she’s asking for them. She’s recognizing what she wants even if it’s confusing and she can’t come up with names for it.
But look at what else Lae’zel knew in act 1. She knew that purification at the crèche would cure her. She knew that Vlaakith did what was best of the githyanki and deserved absolute worship. She knew Kith’rak Voss was her most loyal general. She knew that Orpheus and anyone interested in him were heretics and evil. She knew what she needed from you and that it would only take one night.
And by act 3 she’s struggling a bit with being ignorant on how things will work, but she’s so much clearer on what she wants and needs now. To the point where the woman who you couldn’t convince to stay the night in act 1, begs you with the biggest wettest eyes imaginable to stay with her
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And it absolutely was not supposed to be like this.
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crystallinestars · 13 days
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NSFW Alphabet - Aventurine
In honor of the handsome gambler coming home, have some Aventurine smut.
I’m so sappy for this man, ugh.
Aventurine x fem!Reader
A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)
For the first while, the one doing majority of the aftercare would have to be you. Aventurine has had plenty of one-night stands where the other person got what they wanted from him and then left without engaging in any form of aftercare. He’s used to sex being transactional, a tool he used to win people over.
As such, Aventurine feels lost when it comes to providing aftercare for you since it’s not something he has experienced before. At first, it feels strange to him when you offer to get him water, massage his sore muscles, or cuddle with him right after sex. It felt strange, yet he found himself enjoying the moments when you allowed him to rest his head on your chest, feeling your fingers run through his hair as you chatted about various things.
Aventurine slowly warms up to the idea of receiving this type of treatment after sex, and once he becomes accustomed to it, will return the favor. He’s fond of giving you massages and kisses and joining you in the bath for some extra cuddles. He’s also very likely to order you a delicious meal to replenish your energy or spend the rest of the night lazing in bed with you until you both fall asleep.
B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)
I know that this is supposed to be sexy and erotic and whatnot, but if I had to be honest, I would say Aventurine likes his eyes. As much scorn and discrimination as his eyes have brought him, they are his last remaining link to his family and people, and I think he treasures that. Plus, he likes it when you compliment his eyes and say they’re pretty. It makes him feel a bit better about his Avgin heritage.
On you, Aventurine likes your hands. He really likes how you gently caress him, be it in or out of the bedroom. From the way you hold his hand in yours, to the way you cup his cheek or trace your fingers along his body, he loves it all. He feels treasured under your touch, as if he were something precious to you, something irreplaceable. It makes him feel a complicated type of way, but he still seeks out that touch.
C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)
Is possessive, so he likes to cum inside and then watch his semen drip out of you. It’s a form of staking his claim on you. However, he’s perfectly happy to cum on your chest or face or wherever else you tell him to, though preferably in or on your body. Aventurine is also content to have your juices smeared all over his face from eating you out. Something about feeling how wet you are turns him on immensely.
D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)
Aventurine memorized your undergarment sizes and has spent a pretty penny buying you all kinds of fancy and risqué lingerie from expensive brands. He got you a few matching sets of high-quality lingerie among several costumes, such as a bunny girl suit, a maid dress, and a nurse outfit, to name a few.
He’s planning to give some of them to you as a gift on special occasions in the hopes of getting you to try them on and give him a little show. He loves seeing you dress up for him, and thinks it would be a fun way to spice up your sex life.
E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)
He’s pretty experienced. Aventurine has had a few partners in the past, though they were strictly one-night stands with no feelings attached. It was more of a means to an end for him to relieve stress or win over the person for a deal. He basically used his partner and got used in return, and although some of these encounters were fun, they always left Aventurine unfulfilled.
It wasn’t until he met you and engaged in real lovemaking that he finally understood what was so amazing about sex (more on this in the intimacy section).
F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)
Aventurine is pretty versatile, and his favorite positions change depending on what he’s in the mood for.
If he’s in the mood for something rougher, then he defaults to taking you from behind. He presses his hand on your upper back, pushing you face-down into the bed with your ass up in the air for him. He’s also fond of taking you against the wall with one of your legs hooked around his hip for a deeper penetration.
If he feels like letting you take the lead, he’ll lay back and let you do as you please. You want to pin him down or ride him in cowgirl? Go for it, he’s game. Use him however you want. That said, expect him to be a bit of a brat by challenging your authority with the smuggest of grins on his face. You have to earn his submission.
During moments of sweet and tender lovemaking, Aventurine prefers missionary or lotus. These positions are perfect for exchanging kisses and holding hands, and the eye contact between you feels more intimate which heightens the experience for him. He loves being as close to you as possible, your bodies pressed flush together as your hips move in sync, so expect him to keep his arms wrapped around you for as long as possible.
G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)
Aventurine is both serious and humorous. He definitely verbally teases and taunts you because he wants to get a reaction out of you, especially in the early stages of your sex life. It’s also a mask he employs to hide his own nervousness and vulnerability. However, he’s still considerate and respectful of your boundaries and feelings, and he takes the time to discuss these things with you in a serious manner.
While he’s usually very teasing and playful during sex, Aventurine has his serious moments. Those usually come up during tender lovemaking since it’s a more emotionally charged experience that leaves him feeling vulnerable. Genuine words of affection from you go a long way during those moments, and Aventurine might even return them in kind if your relationship has progressed deep enough.
Once he’s past the stage of slowly opening up and has become comfortable being vulnerable with you, Aventurine will act more playful and teasing again. Unlike at the start, this time he doesn’t tease you to mask his true feelings, but as a way to engage in some playful banter and watch your cheeks flush because he finds you super cute when you’re embarrassed.
H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)
Just look at Aventurine and tell me he doesn’t groom himself all over. He definitely keeps his pubic hair neatly trimmed so it looks tidy. It’s also the same blond color as the hair on his head.
I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)
He's had sexual partners before, but there were no feelings involved, so the sex left Aventurine feeling unfulfilled. It felt good, sure, but it still didn't fill the void in his heart, and he was left empty. Sex with you feels completely different, though. You're devoted to his pleasure, you treat him with love and consideration, and he can feel how much you love him through your touch and words.
There is also something so fulfilling and joyous about making you feel good, of knowing that he is the cause for those moans and blissful expressions of yours. Sex with someone he loves is a completely different experience because it's more emotionally charged, and though it makes him vulnerable, he feels more connected to you. He loves that emotional connection even more than the physical one, and it also makes him realize that there's so much more to sex than simply reaching orgasm.
Getting Aventurine to lower his guard and allow himself to be vulnerable during sex is something that will take time, but once he learns to embrace the experience, he’ll be very romantic when making love to you.
As mentioned before, Aventurine likes to keep as much physical contact with you as possible, so he’ll hold you tight against his body while rocking his hips into you. He also enjoys holding hands, especially when close to orgasm.
He’s a very sensual lover, so he runs his hands along your sides or spine, leaves hot kisses on your jawline and neck, and whispers romantic words about how he loves you or how you’re being such a good girl for him. Feel free to do the same to him in return, he loves feeling your loving touch.
Even when he’s being rough, he’s still loving toward you so you’re never left feeling like he’s just using you to get off. He wants you to be comfortable being this intimate and vulnerable with him, plus he loves giving affection.
J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)
Aventurine accumulates a lot of stress from work, so I think he masturbates fairly regularly. He usually does it in the comfort of his own home when he has some downtime.
With your consent, he uses some lewd pictures and videos of you to jack off to, or he uses his imagination, recounting his favorite moments from your past sessions. He also pictures you in various risqué outfits or imagines what it would be like to try new kinks with you.
K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)
He's a switch but tends to take on a more dominant role because he likes having some for of control over a situation, be it in or out of the bedroom. He's quite adept at giving you commands and suggestions, such as watching you masturbate and giving you directions on how to play with yourself. Aventurine is also into mutual masturbation, with either both of you watching each other get off, or using your hands to please the other.
He's into dirty talk, but mostly giving. From you, he likes to receive praise on how good he makes you feel. He also enjoys hearing you beg and describe in as much detail as you can what exactly you want him to do to you. If the task embarrasses you, that's even better because he finds you incredibly cute when you're blushing.
Other things he likes is edging and overstimulation (giving and receiving), mild exhibitionism (see Location below), videotaping/photographing your body or your sex sessions (with your consent, of course), and mild choking (mostly receiving, but can also give).
Aventurine can handle and enjoy rougher treatment from you, but he loves it most when you worship his body. Your loving and gentle touches feel so good, and honestly, he needs the pampering. Bonus points if you compliment his body, be it his looks or physique.
I also feel like he's into footjobs and boobjobs, and getting you to go commando or with a vibrator stuffed in your pussy in public (but only if you're into that).
L = Location (favorite places to do the do)
Generally prefers to have sex somewhere comfortable and private, so the ideal place is usually your home. The kitchen, bathroom, living room, etc are all fair game because Aventurine is not very picky about the location, though he does have a preference for the comfort of a soft bed or couch.
If exhibitionism is something you’re into, Aventurine can also fuck you in riskier places like a public bathroom or near an open window, though he won’t let either of you get caught.
M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)
Seeing you in his clothes is a surefire way to get Aventurine in the mood. His shirts are too long for you, so he finds it cute how the sleeves cover your hands, and how the neckline dips lower to show off your cleavage. Bonus points if one of your shoulders is exposed. He finds the sight incredibly erotic and endearing.
Aventurine also likes seeing you dress up for him, be it pretty dresses and nicely done hair or perfectly applied makeup. The idea of you dolling yourself up for him just to have your neat appearance ruined by the end of the night arouses him. As does the idea of seeing those painted lips of yours leave lipstick marks on his cock while you suck him off.
Aventurine can get easily turned on if one of your make-outs turns hot and heavy. Feeling the desire and passion behind your kisses can get him aroused pretty quickly, and he’ll try to turn you on in response by deepening the kiss or sucking on a few sensitive spots on your neck he knows make you weak in the knees.
He also loves it when you tease him, especially sexually. If you give him fleeting touches against his clothed dick, press hot kisses along his throat, or tug on his lower lip with your teeth, he'll easily get worked up. Giving him a fleeting taste of pleasure before pulling away, leaving him yearning for more all day will drive him wild and he'll follow after you like a puppy. Expect to be teased into oblivion in return once he gets his hands on you.
N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)
As a man with a truckload of trauma, there are certain kinks Aventurine isn’t comfortable participating in, or some that he flat-out rejects.
He’s not into roleplaying scenarios where one of you is subservient to the other, so things like slave play or petplay get a hard no from Aventurine. He also doesn’t like calling you mistress due to the time he was forced to call his enslaver ‘Master’.
While he’s ok with some light bondage like having you pin his wrists down with your hands, he gets uncomfortable if handcuffs or rope is involved because it conjures up bad memories from when he used to be restrained like that as a slave. For the same reason, he’s not into wearing collars or collaring you.
While he can handle some rough play like choking, spanking, and biting, he doesn’t like being heavily hit, because again, it triggers bad memories for him. He doesn’t like being injured or causing you injury. He also doesn’t enjoy demeaning dirty talk that treats you or himself as something lesser or as an object.
O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)
His silver tongue is good for more than just talking. Aventurine enjoys giving oral because watching you writhe and fall apart under his mouth is a huge ego boost. He loves to play with and tease your pussy, memorizing all the motions that get the best reactions out of you or any directions you give him to please you right. He becomes an expert at eating you out.
Aventurine gets a deep satisfaction out of pleasing you, and it definitely gets him hard to hear your moans and watch you squirm because he’s making you feel good.
However, I think he prefers receiving just a teensy bit more. Just a smidge. Having you between his legs, eagerly sucking his cock while maintaining eye contact with him is just heaven. There’s something so nice about being lavished with your love and attention, of seeing and feeling how devoted you are to making him feel good. It makes him feel appreciated and desired, which is a huge turn-on.
That said, Aventurine really likes 69ing because that way you both get to give and receive pleasure at the same time, which is a win-win. Though he does miss seeing your pretty eyes looking up at him while your mouth is stuffed with his cock.
P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)
Again, depends on his mood. If he’s feeling frisky, he’ll opt for a quicker and rougher pace, snapping his hips into yours in quick, sharp thrusts while holding onto your hips or arms to hold you in place. However, he’s never rough to the point of it being painful. He doesn’t want to hurt you, so he’s never that rough with you.
Since he’s a sensual person, Aventurine definitely enjoys slower sex. It’s his go-to when making love to you. The thrusts are slow yet deep, his cock dragging against the walls of your pussy, allowing you to feel him properly and fully. With a slower pace, he can kiss you deeper, press his forehead against yours, and exchange words of love more easily. He’s also a fan of slow morning sex.
Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)
He’s fond of quickies. As much as he loves to take the time to work you up and explore your body, sometimes he just needs to quickly release all that pent-up lust to clear his mind. Especially if you’ve been teasing him for a portion of the day or you guys don’t have an opportunity to seclude yourselves for a longer session of sex. He can wait until you get home, but if you’re also willing, he’d much rather have a quickie.
R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)
He’s a gambler and lives for the thrill of taking risks, so I’d say he’s open to experimenting in the bedroom. Aside from the things mentioned in the ‘No’ section, Aventurine is very open to trying new things, even more dangerous ones like choking or exhibitionism. Even if he’s not into something, he’s willing to at least try it once if it’s something you really want to do with him.
S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)
Has average to a bit above average stamina. Can go for one long round with a lot of foreplay, maybe two if he’s particularly horny. Probably recovers quicker than you, though.
T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)
Does own a variety of sex toys he experimented with, but his favorite is a bullet vibrator that he uses while masturbating.
Will absolutely buy toys to use on you, like dildos, vibrators, ballgags, crops, etc… feel free to use the toys on him too, if you want.
He finds toys to be a fun way to occasionally spice up sex to prevent things from getting too stale in the bedroom.
U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)
Huge tease. The biggest tease. The kind of tease to overstimulate or edge you until you’re crying and beginning him for relief or to stop—you won’t even know which one. Thankfully he’s rarely that mean, but he likes to edge you a bit before diving into the good stuff.
Aventurine loves to hear you beg, and he will deny you what you want unless you ask for it nicely. You want him inside? In what way? His fingers or his cock? You need to be more specific, darling~
He also verbally teases you, commenting about how eager you are for his dick or how wet you already are despite just starting, etc… And he always says it with that smug, confident smirk of his.
V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)
Aventurine tries to be quiet because he’d rather hear you over himself, but he does let out his voice a fair bit. He’s prone to whining when you pleasure him, letting out low groans and soft moans, sometimes even growling if you get him particularly worked up, though that sound is rare.
He also talks a lot. Even if he’s breathless from exertion, he’ll still talk dirty, complimenting you on taking him so well, on how eager you are to please him, or how good you feel inside. If he’s making love to you, you might even catch him whispering a strained “I love you” when he’s close to climax.
W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)
Aventurine has nimble hands and knows exactly how to use them to drive you crazy with pleasure. He’s an expert at fingering you, knowing just the right way to curl his fingers inside your pussy to hit your g-spot, what pressure and speed to thrust them in and out of your sopping cunt until your toes curl and you’re clamping down on him as you orgasm.
He also likes to slip a hand between your legs to rub at your clit while fucking into you or to gently tweak and pinch your nipples. The little squeaks and sighs you let out in response are music to his ears.
If at any point you’re frustrated by him constantly edging and teasing you, he’ll quickly shut down your cute protests by deftly rubbing at your clit in exactly the way he knows you love. The way your jaw goes slack as you forget what you wanted to say, reduced to a moaning mess, has him gloating and grinning in triumph. He loves watching you succumb to his touch.
X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)
Is 4.5 inches (11.5 cm) long when erect, and 4.1 inches (10.5 cm) in circumference (girth). His dick is slender with a few prominent veins running along the shaft. The tip is a nice pink color.
Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)
Average. Generally, Aventurine engages in sex 2-3 times per week, but can easily go for more since he’s easy to arouse. The only issue is that he’s often too busy to find the time. You better believe that when he comes home from his weeks-long business trips, he’s taking you to bed for some passionate sex.
Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)
It depends on the situation. If he has work to do after, then he will cuddle for a bit before reluctantly parting from you.
If it’s nighttime or if he has no pressing matters for the day, then Aventurine might let his exhaustion take over and allow himself to fall asleep. It doesn’t happen immediately, though. He prefers to indulge in the afterglow with you, chatting and cuddling for a while, maybe taking a bath together to clean up before bed. He falls asleep a lot easier with you by his side, feeling your fingers tenderly card through his hair or burying his nose into the crown of your head and breathing in your scent.
Unrelated, but he can be both the big and little spoon, though I think he prefers being the little spoon more often. It makes him feel secure when your arms are wrapped around him. He likes falling asleep while facing you, too. Being wrapped up in each other’s arms brings him comfort.
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perlelune · 3 days
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Lucky | Rafe Cameron
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For years, you had a crush on your best friend, one he never returned. You thought he'd be happy to see you move on. You couldn't be more wrong.
Warnings: NON-CON, Kook!Reader, Jealousy, Angst, Pining, Toxicity
This is a dark story. Heed warnings before reading under the cut.
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Your lips curl skyward as you scroll through your phone. As you read every message it’s hard to refrain from kicking your feet and giggling as if you were back in middle school. It’s how he makes you feel. Giddy. Wanted. It’s your first time experiencing such feelings and you’ve been perched on a fluffy cloud all afternoon. 
But remembering you aren’t alone, you try your best to keep a straight face. You’re in a bikini bottom and an oversized shirt by the Camerons’ pool. It’s a bright, sunny day, not a cloud in sight in the sky above Tannyhill.
The unforgiving, North Carolina heat has already melted the ice cubes in your drink. If it weren’t for the generous amounts of sunscreen you've applied earlier, you’d already be sunburnt from hours spent outside.
Rafe lifts his sunglasses from the edge of the pool, curiosity dancing in his blue eyes.
“You’ve been glued to your phone all afternoon, princess.”
You suppress your smile. Feigning nonchalance, you flip your phone down for good measure. 
“I have not.”
“Have too,” he counters, in the exact same way he used to utter those words when you argued back and forth as kids.
He hauls himself out of the pool. You’re graced with the sight of Rafe stepping out of the water, droplets glistening over his broad, toned chest, defined abs and thick, bulging arms. He’s been going especially hard at the gym since summer began. It shows. Your best friend now looks like a breathing, walking Abercrombie ad. You wouldn’t be surprised if the brand gave him a call soon. Not that you’d tell him that. No need to blow up Rafe Cameron’s over-inflated ego even more. 
As you watch him run his fingers through his drenched blonde locks, his golden ring glinting under the sunlight, pride flutters through you. Once upon a time, the sight of Rafe Cameron in nothing but his swim trunks would have had your heart racing and your entire body flush with shameful heat at how unbelievably attractive you found your best friend. 
That was before. When you still clung to the crush you harbored for him for years.
You and Rafe have basically known each other your whole lives.
Since kindergarten specifically.
Back then, you were heavily bullied...and Rafe was the worst of them. He would tug your hair, pull your chair out before you could sit so you’d crash on the floor and call you mean names while other children cheered him on. It only stopped when you had a crying fit in front of him one day. The five year old was stumped. He spent the rest of the year apologizing and bringing a variety of gifts to you. You forgot about the mean things he did and said easily, won over by his determination to make you forgive him. A peculiar friendship blossomed from that. The two of you have been inseparable since then. 
Years flew by.
Then one day Rafe came back to school walking and talking differently. He had filled out during summer break. He was broader, taller, his towering frame even allowing him to reach above your locker. All the girls noticed, including you. You started developing a little crush on him. One he never acknowledged.
He had a girl on his arm at every party, often disappearing with them upstairs. It wasn’t hard to guess what he was up to with those girls. For many years, you daydreamed about what it’d be like to be one of those girls. The girl that caught Rafe Cameron’s eye at a party. The one that would have his full, undivided attention. The one he’d flash a flirtatious grin at and undress with his gaze the entire night.
You wanted to be that girl more than you wanted to breathe.
He never treated you that way though. The two of you hung out all the time. You would play video games, smoke weed, drink the expensive Kentucky Bourbon he stole from his dad’s cabinet and talk about everything and nothing. 
He would always joke that you were like a sister to him. And based on the amount of time you spent at the Camerons house, you might as well be a long lost relative.
Getting over Rafe Cameron had been tantamount to an exorcism. Loving him was so embedded into your flesh, tattooed onto your soul. It was all you knew. Rafe, Rafe, Rafe…
He was everything you longed for. Until he wasn’t. 
It happened one year when you attended the Camerons’ new year’s eve party. You entered the living room and caught him making out with a gorgeous brunette on the balcony. As your heart broke, again, realization slipped through the crack. Pining for someone who doesn’t see you, never saw you, will lead you nowhere. Your suffering was of your own making…and you wanted to suffer no longer. Why fantasize about something that will never come? You’d rather look to the future. 
So you chose to move on.
As fireworks set the night sky above Tannyhill aflame, the last embers of your longing for Rafe Cameron flickered out. 
It’s how you wound up giving dating apps a try. Talking to guys in real life is nerve-wracking but online, you find it much easier. While most conversations you had fizzled out quickly… Garrett has been different. He’s never tried to pretend with you and has been nothing but sweet and inquisitive about your hobbies, hopes and dreams. You’ve talked to him for hours on the phone and he’s made you laugh and smile a countless number of times. As for the icing on the cake…He’s been clear about wanting more than a hookup. He even suggested the two of you should meet up in person soon.
“What got you smiling like that anyway?” Rafe says, tossing the towel around his neck.
“Nothing,” you reply with a shrug.
“If it’s nothing, you can show me.”
He tries to swipe your phone but you’re faster. You rise from your chair and pick it up before he can take it.
His eyes narrow.
“I thought we had no secret for each other,” he says, an accusation laced in his tone. He’s never liked you keeping things from him, no matter how small or insignificant.
“We don’t.”
He gives a slow nod. Then he smiles. And you suppose it should have been your warning, that you should have seen it coming. But you don’t see anything coming. His hand shoots out and he shoves you aside. 
He plucks your phone from you like it’s nothing, using his height to keep it out of reach.
“Rafe! Give me my phone back,” you urge.
He makes no effort to abide by your request, glowering at the screen while scrolling.
“Who the hell is Garrett?”
“J-Just a guy I started talking to on this app...” Your voice dwindles as you cower under Rafe's hard gaze.
Disgust scrunches his handsome face.
“I thought you deleted those dating apps. We talked about this.”
You did talk about it. After a dispiriting streak of bad luck on these apps, he wheedled you to delete all of them. Rafe said all the guys on these apps wanted was to use you for a quick, meaningless fuck. That you were too gullible and would just be taken advantage of. He said that you deserved better and the right guy would come along eventually. You found yourself believing him. A lot of time, you ended up ghosted or the guys failed to show up anyways. It made you question what is so repulsive about you that made guys steer clear.
“I wanted to try again.”
“Well Garrett’s a douchebag name. I don’t like him for you.” He snickers. “Look at that. He’s playing you and his game isn’t even good. You’re really falling for this corny shit, princess?”
He starts reading some of the compliments Garrett paid you aloud, drawing a round of guffaws from Kelce and Topper. 
Your cheeks come ablaze.
“Now you’re just being mean,” you lament, using a lapse of distraction to retrieve your phone.
Gulping the tears threatening to spill, you rush back inside. Kelce’s taunting voice echoes behind you.
“Guess that one got past you, huh, Rafe?” 
“Shut your mouth, bro,” Rafe snaps angrily. 
You lean on the counter and gather your breath. The tears subside. You remind yourself that this is just how Rafe can be. Callous. Inconsiderate. 
It’s not who he really is. 
It’s just a bit hard to recall when he has those moments. Those aggressively insensitive moments. 
You open the fridge and grab a cool drink. Your throat is parched and you could use one.
When you pivot, you nearly spill the can.
Rafe’s towering frame impedes your path.
“You scared me, Rafe,” you say, unleashing a tremulous exhale.
He studies you, concern glimmering in his ocean gaze.
“I wasn’t trying to make you cry, I swear.” He shrugs and scratches the back of his neck. “I just meant he sounds like an asshole.”
“You’re an asshole,” you say, bumping into his arm as you sidle past him. 
His brows draw together. He isn’t used to you addressing him that way. With anything other than sweetness dripping from your tongue. 
You can tell he’s reeling at that alone. Getting the tiniest taste of his own medicine…from you of all people.
He approaches you as you swallow a sip of your drink. 
“Ouch. I’m just looking out for you, princess.” His fingers slot beneath your chin. “You know that’s all I ever try to do, right?”
He flashes you a charming smile. That smile you could never resist. It used to be your Achilles’ heel. Despite your changing feelings, Rafe still possesses the uncanny ability to make you forget why you were even mad at him in the first place. Like right now.
Your shoulders sag.
“I know.”
Blue eyes dive into yours. 
“I want to meet him.”
You retreat, your brows knitting. 
“Meet him, why?”
“I want to make sure he’s good enough for you.”
“I can decide that myself.”
He snorts, his focus darting away before returning to you.
“You’ve never known what’s good for you.” You flinch. “I can’t believe you didn’t even tell me you were talking to someone. I tell you everything. Shit, guess I’m an idiot, huh?” His jaw clenches. “...Cause I thought you did too.”
You inch closer to him and wrap your fingers around his forearm. 
“Rafe, I’m sorry, okay.” You gnaw on your bottom lip. “It’s just that…”
“Just that what?”
You pause, mulling over how to best word what you mean to say. 
Your voice comes out a bashful whisper, your eyes clinging to the floor. 
“Every time I’ve told you I liked a guy, it’s never worked out for some reason. It’s probably my fault but…I just didn’t want to jinx it this time.” You nervously swing your gaze back to him. “I figured if I keep it to myself I don’t have to get my hopes up.” You can’t quell the smile that fights its way onto your lips. “Garrett and I are just seeing where it goes right now. So…things are good.”
“Oh, it’s Garrett and I, now?” he sneers.
“Rafe, don’t be like this,” you beseech, squeezing his arm. “You’ll always be my best friend; you know that.” You shift in your spot, your tone pitching with hope as you ask, “Can’t you just be happy for me?”
He stares at you a long time, so long that his eyes on you grow unnerving. After a while, he releases a deep exhale. 
Ignoring your question, he steps back from you.
“I’m gonna go take a shower,” he announces. 
“Rafe?”
You never get a response, his form vanishing down the hallway. A sigh ripples through your lips as you lean against the counter. Why is he being so difficult about this? It’s not like you’re not seeing him with a new girl every other week. You never batted an eyelash. You even encouraged him to seriously date some of them, the ones who seemed to sincerely like him and reminded you of yourself back in the day. 
You’ve always cheered him on no matter what. So it baffles you that he can’t return the favor. Crushes you even.
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For the rest of the week, you don’t hear much from Rafe. He pretty much ignores you and even leaves you on read after you send him a string of pleading messages, which is your cue that you wounded his feelings somehow. You surmise Rafe isn’t used to your attention veering towards someone else. Perhaps he’s miffed at the prospect that getting a boyfriend means you won’t hang out as much anymore, that he’ll have to share you. Your friendship’s been a fixture in both of your lives for so many years. The one unwavering, steadfast foundation nothing could topple. Whatever occured in his life or yours, you’ve always had each other.
Change can be scary. 
But you don’t plan on neglecting the bond you have with Rafe just because you’re dating someone. He’ll always be in your life. He’ll always matter to you. It's what you meant to tell him. What you would tell him if only he bothered replying to your texts or answering your calls. 
Rafe has always teased you for bartending at the Island Club. In his eyes, you’re much too Kook for what he calls a ‘Pogue job’. But you enjoy it. There is a certain comfort in having things you earned through your own hard work and not your parents’ money.
…Though you can’t deny you might not have landed this position if not for your dad’s close friendship with the owner of the private club. You’re also painfully aware you don’t get yelled at or scolded for making mistakes as much as other employees. 
And on days like today, after you end your shift, Rafe has never failed to pick you up in his Jeep. 
He’s never missed a day. Which is why you wear a dumbfounded expression as you note the glaring absence of the familiar black car in front of the country club. It takes you a while to accept and realize the cold, hard truth. Rafe isn’t coming to pick you up today. 
It’s not the end of the world, of course. But it still makes your heart ache that he’d ditch like that without so much as an apology or heads-up. You feel kicked in the gut. 
You try to call him but it goes straight to voicemail. Resigned, you resort to calling for back-up. 
Sarah shows up in her truck with a bright smile. 
“Get in loser, we’re going shopping,” she quips, winking at you.
You climb inside the passenger seat. 
“Thanks for coming, S.”
“Don’t mention it.”
Since the oldest of the Camerons is currently denying your very existence, you figured you might as well call the Kook Princess herself to the rescue. His sister, Sarah Cameron. 
“I brought snacks so I better get a five-star review,” she jests, wiggling her eyebrows. She tosses you a bag of M&M’s that you gleefully tear open. “Doesn’t Rafe usually pick you up after work?”
The sugar melting on your tongue sweetens the bitter taste of abandonment.
“Well, he’s sulking, so…” you mumble around a mouthful of candy.
“Sulking?” Shock colors her tone. “I don’t think there’s anything you could do to make my brother mad. You’re like the only person he’s not a complete jerk around.”
“Well, he was one last time we talked.”
Sarah arches a puzzled brow.
You sigh and explain, “I started dating someone…Actually, we’re still at the talking stage, but…I didn’t tell him.”
“Oh.”
“Oh?”
“Nothing. Forget I said anything,” she dismisses cryptically.
Her peculiar tone peeves you.
“I’m not gonna forget, Sarah.”
Her shoulders rise and fall.
“It’s not my place to say. It’s between you and Rafe.” She throws you a cautious glance, marking a brief pause before inquiring, “You’re not still in love with my brother, are you?”
Heat creeps inside your cheeks.
“I was n-never in love with Rafe,” you stammer. Inwards, you’re screaming. Was it that obvious at the time?
Sarah’s plump lips quirk in a lopsided smile.
“Sure.” 
Gratitude fills you. You’d rather leave this can of worms permanently closed. Lid tightly sealed and all. And the can tossed at the bottom of a lake. It’s embarrassing enough that you mooned over Rafe for as long as you did.
At least you find comfort in the fact that you’re over him now.
“You mind if we stop for ice cream on the way?” Sarah asks, adjusting her rearview mirror.
“No. I could go for one myself. This heat is killing me.”
“Cool.”
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For the rest of the week, Rafe continues to dole out the silent treatment. You allow his childish antics to chafe you to a point. Then you elect to not let it bother you anymore. He can throw a tantrum if he wishes. You’ve done nothing wrong and you’re growing weary of being treated like you have. 
For over fifteen years, you’ve been a great friend to Rafe, listening to him rant whenever he needed an ear, making time for him whenever he requested it. The fact he’s being a dick right now is staggering. 
He frankly has no right.
After everything the two of you have been through, you hoped for more from him. While you’re aware he can be a jackass, you thought it was different when it came to you. That you were different. You suppose you were wrong. 
Friday comes around and with it arrives the excitement of the plans you have for the night. Garrett asked you out on a date at a fancy seafood restaurant. It’ll be your first time meeting him in person. You’ve been looking forward to it the entire week.
As you’re putting the final touches to your makeup in front of the vanity mirror, your phone flashes with a request for a facetime call. 
You swipe towards the green icon to accept the call. 
Rafe’s face fills your screen. 
“Hey, princess. I thought we could talk-”
“I’m kind of busy right now. Rain check tomorrow?” 
“Busy doing what?” He squints, seeming to register your attire. A brand new sundress you purchased with your tips from the Island Club. You paired it with wedge heels. You also switched your hairstyle to something more sophisticated for the night. “W-What the hell are you wearing? Where are you even going dressed like that?”
You heave out a deep sigh.
“Good night, Rafe.”
You tap the screen to end the call.
A rush of power floods your insides. You hung up on him. This is your first time doing that, hanging up on Rafe Cameron himself. 
Still, a sliver of guilt lingers alongside your pride. You quell it swiftly. You can’t be at his beck and call your entire life. Tonight’s about you. For once, you’d like to put your needs before Rafe’s.
Garrett comes to your house some time later. He has flowers in his arms. You soak in their scent for a few minutes. No one’s ever given you flowers before. It makes you feel special.
As he opens the door of his truck for you, he whistles in admiration.
“Wow,” he says, his gaze dragging over your frame.
Your skin warms at the attention, the kind you aren’t used to receiving. 
Fiddling with the flowy sleeve of your sundress, you inquire, “Am I what you expected?”
A besotted smile spreads on his lips.
“You’re even more beautiful in person.”
“Thank you.” 
You peer at him. His pictures don’t do him justice.
“You look very handsome. I like your shirt.”
His cheeks redden at your praise. 
You get inside his car. The two of you exchange casual chatter on the way to the restaurant. You’re amazed at how easy talking to him is. You’re a little shy but his clear interest in you helps you slowly climb out of your shell. 
Once you arrive at the restaurant, you’re escorted to your table. The light conversation resumes its flow, the two of you growing even more comfortable with each other. You like how intently he listens to you, even if his intense eye contact makes you wrestle the urge to look away. You nibble your lip as you peruse the menu. Mirth sways in Garett’s brown orbs when your stomach growls. You mumble an apology under your breath and he beams at you. You’ve been so anxious about the date for the whole day, you’ve forgotten to eat. 
A familiar voice erupts from behind you. 
“Well, look who it is. What a coincidence.”
You whirl, a gasp bursting from your throat.
“Rafe? What are you doing here?”
He stands besides you and Garrett’s table, his arm slung around a gorgeous redhead’s shoulders. It occurs to you haven’t seen him with that one before. Though you reckon Rafe rarely does repeat encounters. 
What shocks you more however is his very presence here. Of all places, Rafe and the girl he’s with could have been tonight, it has to be the exact same location of your first date with Garrett. 
What are the odds? 
However, you recall that with the assistance of the friend-finding app both you and Rafe have on your phones in case of emergencies, figuring out your whereabouts would be about the easiest thing.
Would Rafe go that far just because you wouldn’t yield to his whims one time? Would he truly be that selfish?
The shit-eating grin unfurling on his face answers all your questions.
“Well, I heard this was a good spot so I thought…” Rafe’s brows furrow as he waves his hand before the girl’s face, appearing to struggle remembering her name. 
“Jessica,” she finishes for him, disappointment decorating her pretty features.
He beams at her.
“Right. I thought that Jessica and I could check it out.”
He plops down next to you, forcing you to make space for him on the upholstered booth seat. Meanwhile his date sits next to Garrett. 
“You mind, princess?”
Awkwardness fills the air. The heavy tension sits on your throat as Rafe makes himself more comfortable, going as far as spreading his legs.
You scold him with your gaze, all but spelling out ‘Yes, I do mind indeed’.
You clear your throat and shift your stance, resenting how every tiny motion has your thigh grazing against his.
“Actually I…We’re kind of on a date, Rafe.”
He places his arm on the wooden edge above your head, his smile expanding.
“So are we. So why not double date?”
“I don’t mind,” Garrett offers as he takes in your concerned expression. “You two…know each other, right?”
You open your mouth to speak but before words can pour from it, Rafe wraps his arm around you.
“Best friends. She and I go way back. Isn’t that right, princess?”
His intense blue eyes settle on you. You swallow the lump in your throat. Anger can’t begin to describe how upset you are with Rafe right now for crashing your date, but you also don’t want to cause a scene, make things even worse than they already are. 
So you force a smile on your lips and nod.
“Y-Yeah, we do.”
Throughout the night, Rafe’s presence causes the date’s slow descent into a nightmare. Every time Garrett tries to strike up a conversation with you, Rafe interjects, his comments toeing the line between innocently inconsiderate and outright rude. He never lets the two of you have a moment, interrupting whenever Garrett looks at you for more than half a second. You grow weary of his antics. So does Rafe’s date. You can see the pretty redhead in front of him growing frustrated as he treats her as if she were a potted plant.
She ends up leaving the table to go to the bathroom but never returns. It doesn’t shock you. If someone inflicted upon you what Rafe has to the poor girl the entire night, you might take your leave as well.
By the time dessert comes, you’re on the cusp of tears. This is not how you envisioned your night going. 
The awfulness doesn’t stop there.
When it’s time to part ways, Garrett finds his truck in an unfortunate state. 
He curses under his breath as he hunkers down in front of his car. 
“Some punk sliced my tires.”
In the back, Rafe shakes his head.
“Damn, tough luck. Guess I’ll have to drive you home, princess.”
You scowl at Rafe before placing a hand on Garrett’s arm. He’s already on his phone to contact someone to help move his truck.
“I could wait with you,” you say softly. 
“It’s fine,” he replies. “Just go home. We’ll text, okay?”
Your tone turns contrite. “Okay. I’m so sorry… about everything.”
“Don’t worry about it. I still had a good time.”
“Me too.”
Despite his assurance, you aren’t too hopeful he’ll want to see you again. You know this wasn’t what he had in mind for the night. And neither did you. 
You reluctantly trail behind Rafe, looking daggers at him when he opens the door of his black Volvo for you. 
Not an ounce of guilt lurks on his handsome face, which tosses more fuel on the flames of your ire. 
You don’t utter a word, almost too angry to speak. The last shred of your patience fizzled out in the restaurant, as your so-called best friend basked in your misery, getting a kick out of making a mockery of your night.
If you talk, it won’t be to have a calm, level-headed conversation with Rafe. It’ll be to spew venom at him.
As he parks into the driveway of your house, he lets go of the steering wheel and says, “You’re mad at me, aren’t you?”
You draw a long, slow breath.
“You think?” you snap icily. You jump out of the truck and slam the door closed.
Rafe follows you to your doorstep. You fumble with the lock. Your fingers quiver so much, you can’t even open the door. After a few unsuccessful tries jamming the keys inside the lock, Rafe takes them from you. He opens the door and you stomp inside. 
You toss your clutch on a nearby table and whirl. 
“What the hell, Rafe?” you shout. “You embarrassed me!”
His shoulders lift and slump.
“Well, you shouldn’t have been there to begin with.”
Disbelief rounds your gaze. “What?”
“You heard me. You shouldn’t have been on a date with him.”
Folding your arms, you scoff, “Right. Why is that?”
Rafe inches closer to you, his eyes locking with yours.
“Because you should have been on a date with me instead.”
A weary exhale drops from your chest. Rafe’s declared many things while hammered but this one takes the cake.
“I think you’re drunk,” you dismiss. “You need to go home, Rafe.”
Rafe’s jaw ticks.
“My mind is perfectly clear, okay? If you’ll just listen to me-”
“Go home, Rafe.”
You nearly turn your back on him but Rafe’s sturdy hand fastens around your arm, yanking you back.
He takes a long pause, drinking you in.
Rafe takes a deep breath before confessing, “I love you. I’ve always loved you.” His throat bobs as he adds, “And I know you love me too.”
Your mouth tumbles open, shock snatching the very air from your lungs. You stare at Rafe. Perhaps you heard him wrong. In your wrath, his words may have landed in your ears a little warped.
But as you get lost in his sea gaze, the truth sinks into you. He is serious. Very serious.
A war of conflicting emotions breaks out inside you. For years, you longed to hear those words. But not like this. And the insinuation that he knew how you felt…That he let you suffer in silence while gallivanting around with those girls.
A fast surge of tears blurs your gaze.
“You knew?”
He cradles your face.
“I’ve always known.”
A shudder wracks through your frame.
“So w-why did you never say anything?”
“I figured you’d wait for me, that I could just have some fun. That it wasn’t a big deal.”
Ice fills your blood. Your tone becomes clipped, detached.
“I want you to leave.”
His hold on you doesn’t loosen, his cheek pulsing in frustration.
“Really? I tell you I love you after all this time and this is your response?”
“I haven’t had those feelings for you in years, Rafe. And right now…I don’t even like you as a person.” Rafe bristles at your blunt words, looking like you slapped him. Your mouth wobbles as you say, “You’re not who I thought you were. I want you out of my house and out of my life.”
Something shifts in his blue eyes. The air around you drops a few degrees as he pushes you further inside the room. Desperation lurks in his deep timbre.
“Come on, we can talk about this, princess.”
“There’s nothing to talk about.” Dread escalates within you when he doesn’t move. You’re hit with the daunting realization that you’re alone with Rafe, your parents away on a trip right now. Usually being alone with him wouldn’t have fazed you, may have ensconced you in a sense of security and comfort even. Not tonight. Tonight, you don’t recognize the Rafe standing in front of you. Your voice trickles out small and shaky. “R-Rafe, get out, I’m serious.”
His expression hardens. He shoves you into a nearby wall. You gasp as pain prickles along your back.
“Just admit that you love me too,” he roars. 
“I don’t,” you whimper as water brims under your lashes.
This propels him to the brink. There’s no time to process anything, Rafe hoisting you with ease. As he takes long, determined strides to your bedroom, your fear grows. He hurls your body into the bed. He fiddles with the buttons of his khaki pants until they come loose. A scream builds inside your throat, refusing to break past your lips as you linger in bewilderment. Rafe isn’t doing what you think he’s doing…what he’s preparing to do. There's no way. He wouldn’t.
Stupor girdles your motions. For a while, you gape at Rafe. As he approaches the bed, adrenaline rushes through you. You remember how to move.
But it’s for naught. Rafe is quicker than you, catching you when you rise and slamming you back on the sheets. He crawls over you. His blue gaze glimmers strangely in the darkness. Streaks of moonlight pour between your half-draw curtains, casting ominous shadows over his broad frame.
He cages you beneath him, shushing you as you croak out pleas for him to stop.
“I know you’re lying,” he rasps, scattering sloppy kisses alongside your neck.
He yanks down your dress and your breath hitches. 
“I’m not. I don’t-” Words wither on your tongue as he flicks his thumb over your nipple, his other hand patting underneath your dress. “I-I don’t love you anymore, Rafe.”
“I don’t believe you.”
His fist curls around the vee part of your thin lace panties, tugging roughly enough to tear the delicate material. You squeal as the lace dents your flesh when it rips.
Your heart bounces. You push against Rafe’s chest with newfound urgency.
“Rafe, stop.”
He snatches both of your wrists and traps them above your head. Helplessness chokes your airways as he pokes lightly at your entrance. He slides one finger between your walls and you keen, breath faltering at the abrupt intrusion. His lewd gaze remains trained on you as you squirm beneath him.
“Why do you keep lying, huh?” he accuses, forcing a moan from your throat when he curls his digit inside you. When your eyes squeeze shut in denial, he lets go of your wrist to frame your jaw.
A sob spills from your throat, your eyes flying open.
“Nah…I want you to look at me, princess,” he orders, jerking your head up so your gazes lock. You choke on your breath when he shoves a second finger inside you. He slowly drags his fingers in and out of you. Heat gathers in your core. You writhe against the sheets, resisting the urge to buck your hips to seek more of the friction. He grazes a uniquely sensitive spot and your lids quake, a soft whimper flying from your mouth. You clench around Rafe’s fingers and he unleashes a sigh of pleasure as you grip him. You feel him harden against you. Your stomach knots at the pressure. His eyes are glued to you, soaking every minute shift of expression while he pumps his fingers inside you. 
“I know you never stopped loving me,” he whispers, the alcohol on his breath seeping through your senses. “Think I don’t see the way you look at me?”
As you near your undoing, he removes his fingers. You sag against the sheets. The sudden emptiness leaves you with a mix of emotions you’re too ashamed to admit.
He presses his thick tip against your dripping entrance, gathering your arousal when he runs it along your folds. He pushes in slowly, his eyes rolling back at the sensation of your velvety warmth welcoming him. You tense at the intrusion. Your fingers curl into the sheets. Rafe’s broad frame covers yours, his forehead resting against yours as he whispers, “Say you love me.”
When you don’t reply, he slams his cock inside you in one swift stroke. Your back curves, a quiet scream ripping from your throat. Your chest lifts and falls rapidly as Rafe’s thick girth fills you up completely. 
He begins moving inside you, his pace relentless and unforgiving. While his length is splitting you apart, it’s hard to deny the warm tingles pulsing through your core, joining the pain in devious harmony. 
You go limp on the bed, his thick cock stretching you more than ever before. Every time he grazes your sweet spots, you spiral further down, your thoughts melting in the flames consuming your body.
“Say it,” he grunts, his warm breath fanning over your face. 
His bulging muscles coil beneath his clothes from the force he exerts to shove all of himself inside you. Heavy breaths drop from Rafe’s chest as your walls squeeze around him. Drenched locks of his dirty blond hair cling to his forehead, beads of sweat collecting between his furrowed brows and dripping to your parted lips. 
When you remain silent, Rafe’s large hand wraps around your throat, his tone more firm and menacing than before as he snarls, “Say that you love me, princess.”
His fingers crush your windpipe until you give in.
You can barely eke the words out, every harsh snap of Rafe’s hips into yours filling your vision with stars.
“I l-love you, Rafe.” 
The words ache as they part from your throat. A bitter truth you buried long ago, beneath thick layers of heartbreak and denial. One you hoped would never crawl its way back to the surface. One that hurts even more now, shatters you as it leaves your lips. Because you can’t tell if Rafe forced it out of you or if it was there all along. Perhaps it never left you. Perhaps, even after all your attempts to purge Rafe Cameron from your flesh and soul, even after he’s done the unthinkable to you…Part of you may still love Rafe, may always love Rafe.
As you grow overwhelmed with warring emotions, his cock still viciously ramming into you, you don’t know who you hate more. Him. Or yourself.
Salty streams spill down your cheeks. 
Rafe kisses them away, gently cupping your cheek while thrusting roughly into your cunt. His other hand explores your curves, clutching your flesh possessively. You can already feel bruises forming beneath his rough, insatiable touch. His eyes find yours, a possessive glint swaying in his intense blue gaze.
“Of course you do.” His lips stretch in a smug smile. “You’ve always been mine, princess, you just didn’t know it yet.”
672 notes · View notes
mamayan · 6 months
Text
🎃 Happy Halloween 🎃
Shigaraki Tomura x Fem! Reader
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Good girls should just stay home, lest something goes bump in the night.
cw: NSFW • Implied Murder • Implied Serial Killer • Consensual Non-Consent turned Non-Consensual • Noncon • Dubcon • Abuse • Fingering (F) • Oral (M) • Deep Throating • Rough Sex • Attempted Murder • Hair Pulling • Degradation/Slight Humiliation • Dacryphilia • Yandere Themes • Kidnapping • a little OOC • This story possessed me and basically wrote itself • Barely proof read tbh
wc: 7k+
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Something must be wrong with you.
Or at least, that’s what you imagine the world would think if anyone knew what you were doing.
The room was dark aside from the blue glow of your computer screen. The black web browser with red lettering almost ominous as your eyes scanned the consent form again. It was a consent form just to access the full website, on the surface serving only as a dating type of situation for the BDSM community. Beneath it though were layers deeper than what the simple description actually provided. You only found out about it through a deep dive into multiple sub-threads of Reddit. It was a basket case of crazy, the majority of information or advice, but you managed to dig up one reliable looking source.
This website you were currently on. L@ce&R0pe.com happened to provide a wide variety of goodies, from sex toys to actual published books on shibari, there wasn’t much you couldn’t find. Except like all websites not swallowed up by the deep web, there was never any section like the one you wanted so desperately.
Except this one, because your mouse didn’t hesitate to shift and hover over the drop down section for MEET, where you could link up with real people for whatever your heart desired really. You trailed down to NEW FRIEND, and clicked. A new tab opened, this one themed differently than the main website. It was light blue and pink, almost like a baby shower, except the only thing on the page was a single drop down menu, and clicking it made your head ache. There were thousands of options, but thankfully it was organized alphabetically, so you could easily scroll mindlessly until you hit the C section.
You found what you wanted, clicking it as your chosen option and hitting GO.
The screen changed, this time it looked similar to a dating profile fillable. You worked quickly, efficiently even, as you typed all your information in.
Not your name or address, nothing silly like that. Just your measurements, your favorite foods or beverages, the color of your eyes, your hair color, your height, and even the style of your nails. It asked if you liked to brush your hair everyday, how often you showered, what shampoo or body wash you like. You answered them all, as invasive as they soon became, you never wavered. What brand of deodorant do you use? How often do you clip or file your nails? To what length? Do you shave your pubic area? How often? What style? How many sexual partners have you had? Where have you had sex? Which hole do you prefer? Are you a crier or a screamer? Does blood turn you on? Do you like physical or mental pain more? Have you ever been raped before?
They got more personal and physiological as you answered. You felt hot and stuffy despite the window being open and the cool autumn air blowing in. You kept answering even as your throat got tighter and unease nestled into your clavicle.
Do you want to know who your new friend will be?
This time you do hesitate. Knowing would make it feel safer. Knowing would give you some semblance of control. Knowing would be the smart choice.
You clicked “no” and submitted the form, sealing your fate as your hands shook and adrenaline pumped through your veins.
You set the date for October 31st. Now all you had to do was wait and show up.
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A notification hit his phone, lighting up the screen as cigarette smoke billowed around him in the back alley. A quick glance was all he needed to unlock and fully see the entire screen. The leather of his jacket rubbed against the brick he leaned against.
Halloween was probably the best time for such fun, crime rates skyrocketing and parties being loud and wild really left a big gaping hole for any type of heinous activity to occur. He grinned as the information poured onto his screen. His dick already becoming painfully hard as he read all your supplied information. You liked breath play, having someone spit in your mouth, even being slapped around. He was always amazed by the lack of shortage for sick freaks like you, but then again, he was one of them too. Licking his top lip, tongue piercing flicking out to rub against his cupid’s bow, he clicked “ACCEPT” on the notification. He had all your information, the when and where, and your adorable little comment of “Please don’t degrade me.” What more could he ask for? His smile is sinister in the low light off the neon sign of the bar, casting a purplish hue on his skin as he chuckles and shoves his phone away. Flicking his cigarette butt onto the dirty ground, he cracked his neck and knuckles before going back inside to finish his beer and round of pool with his friends.
He’ll see you on Halloween. He might even dress up a little for the occasion.
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It’s cold.
It’s nearly November so you hadn’t expected warm weather necessarily, but it seemed chillier than usual despite your fairly insulated dress.
You dressed up as an angel, the irony not lost on you at all but it felt fitting almost for the occasion. The pristine white looked off in your surroundings. It was nearly midnight, but despite that the sidewalk of the park was filled with a fairly regular crowd of people passing through, on to the next party or home to sleep off all the alcohol. Really, you weren’t too out of place, in your white stockings and black heeled boots, the fluffy ruffled white babydoll dress that barely covered your ass or tits and the wings which were strapped around your shoulders and jutted out behind you. On your head was a slim clip which was attached to a white shiny halo that seemed to float above you, only a thin wire keeping it up. You’d at first felt a little exposed passing children going home for the night after trick or treating, eyes of judgemental families which you ignored boring into you, but now it was time for the adults to have fun. You’d already passed a plethora of college students or older dressed even more scantily than you, making you feel better, safer, out in the park you’d chosen. You’d chosen 0300 as your designated meetup time, but specified you’d be early in case they wanted to start sooner. So here you stood, under a streetlamp that illuminated you in a yellow glow, making you seem even more angelic despite the ominous darkness surrounding you. You were busy playing on your phone, scrolling mindlessly and trying not to appear too excited. Or scared. You figured it was a combination of both, the arousal and fear bleeding into one very specific but unnamed emotion. Tapping your boot to a rhythm only you could hear, the night drew on and another hour passed. The droves of people passing didn’t dwindle, but it was always a group, never a single individual which you hoped was your new friend. It was almost 0130 when you felt watched, goosebumps rising on your skin as you realized someone must be looking at you. A quick glance around showed no one though, and after ten minutes your hope dissolved into disappointment. It seemed your friend wasn’t an early bird.
“Hey,” a raspy, deep voice speaking almost directly into your ear, startling you enough to elicit a yelp. You turned, eyes landing on a dark clothed chest and trailing up to a hooded face you could barely make out through a mess of blue hair. His lips look a bit chapped, a small scar decorating a corner, but his teeth are white and straight as he smiles a grin that causes shivers to shoot down your spine.
…maybe your friend was an early bird, just not as much as you.
You take a step back, stuttering stupidly due to your overactive nerves and the earlier shock of his sudden appearance. “H-hi…um,” the stranger tilts his head, eyes still not visible, dark hoodie baggy on his frame. He looks a bit thin, like he wouldn’t have a lot of strength, his jeans having some strange splattering of fake blood or something on them. You lick your lips, heart ready to leap from your chest but not quite ready for the events to unfold.
Or maybe you were very ready.
“You’ve been standing here for hours,” he comments nonchalantly, hands moving to shove inside the large inner pocket on his hoodie, “Aren’t ya tired of waiting for your boyfriend?” His question is a bit confusing, and when you glance around you, it dawns that there’s no one out right now. When had the crowds dwindled to nothing? “I don’t… have a boyfriend…” you had clearly stated that online too, so he already knew the answer to your relationship status. Was he just teasing? Keeping this as realistic as possible? It made you a bit pleased. You fiddled with the ends of your cute frilly dress, exposing a small portion of your skin and garter belt which kept your thigh high socks up. His eyes tracked the motion, lips pulling up even higher making his smile menacing. Dangerous. “That so?” He asks, but it doesn’t seem like he’s too interested in a reply as he steps closer, his beat up sneakers so silent on the ground it’s a little unnerving. Since he’s playing along so much, it feels wrong for you to not reciprocate.
“What do you think you’re doing, creep? Stay back,” You hope he’s not offended by the name, figuring it wasn’t too mean or odd of a thing to call him. Your firm stance and defiant gaze make him pause, head tilting again but he’s quick to recover and laugh. It’s less of a sexy and deep chuckle like you expected, and more pitched and giggly. It’s almost creepy to hear from a grown man. Like a child from a horror movie laughing. “Creep? Yeah? Guess I am, but you know what?” His head lifts, and since he’s more centered under the tall street lamp, when he looks straight at you, two red eyes flash. “I’m a lot fucking worse than your average dumbass creep,” you jolt when he lunges at you, hand outstretched to grab you. It’s instinctive how quickly you turn and run, adrenaline helping you shoot off into the park where no light but the moon shined down. This is what you wanted, you chant to yourself to stay level headed enough to not truly panic. This was staged and as safe as possible. He’s not actually going to hurt you. You’d be fine, albeit maybe a little sore tomorrow morning. You shut your mind off and focus on running, though your speed wasn’t great in such cheap and unstable boots, roots and random objects on the ground constantly tripping you up.
You looked like the dumb girl in the horror movies, tits practically out of your low cut revealing white dress, strapless white bra damn useless and more for show than any real support or push-up. You huffed, digging in your heels when you heard a few twigs snap behind you, feet carrying you faster as you realized he was gaining on you quickly. He didn’t shout and you didn’t scream. The chase was exhilarating, your mind becoming fuzzy as your lungs burned for more oxygen. You hadn’t planned a chase, really leaving it all up to fate and your new friend, but this was perfect.
Until fingers tangled tight in your hair and yanked you completely off your feet, your shoes and legs going out in front of you as you landed gracelessly on your ass. Then an intense burning in your scalp erupts, a hiss of pain and a whine escaping as you slide over cool damp foliage, senseless grumbling coming from the stranger as he drags you into a deeper more secluded section of the park, away from any and all prying eyes. Not like anyone gave a damn. “I-it hurts!” You feel childish for crying, tears pricking your eyes but the burn was worse than you imagined truly, soft hands coming up to try and pry his fingers off.
He has a grip of iron apparently, not the least bit phased as he sighs, hauling you up and tossing you in front of him. You land weirdly on your left shoulder, a shock of pain numbing your mind as you heave for air and roll over. When you open your eyes, you’re face to face with him. His hood pulled off, shoulder length blue hair now tied back and up into a little bun while some stray pieces frame his face and forehead. Your eyes adjust to the darkness as they take him in.
He’s young, maybe early twenties, with pale skin and dark bags hugging beneath his scarlet eyes. He’s got a beauty mark just below his lip on the right side, the scar you saw earlier on the other. He’s not hard on the eyes, cute even, but the strange air around him makes the close proximity fill you with anxiety. His eyebrows are thin and sparse, but he cocks one with a smirk. “Not gonna scream for help, crybaby?” The nickname makes you realize tears are streaming down your cheeks, you blink them away quickly, shaking your head and trying to find your words again. “I—uh, do you want me to?” Wouldn't screaming just make it more likely for someone to call the police? You figured a little noise was fine, but screaming seemed counter productive.
His eyes widened a bit, confusion painting his features as he crouched down more comfortably on his haunches to get a better look at you.
He’d been watching you since you got to the park. A single party in this sort of place always sticks out like a sore thumb. You looked more ready for a porno than a costume party, from behind the view of your ass indescribably arousing in your short little dress. It was both a slutty and innocent look you pulled off well, at least enough to make him riled up, cock twitching in agreement within his pants. He shamelessly rubbed it through his jeans, caressing the hardening length and letting you watch with glee. Your face made him snort, amusement evident as he chuckles and squints. “You like this, little freak?” You looked like you did, he notes. Your wide pretty eyes, still a little teary and red at the ends, showed your blown out pupils. You looked to be more star struck, not terrified like any normal girl chased through a park and dragged into a little corner between some trees to be out of sight. He watches you swallow hard, lips parting before closing as if you aren’t sure what to say to that question. “Fuck, you’re cute,” he grins, “a cute little slut who stood out at night all alone as if begging for someone to come along and do something nasty.” You release a tiny yelp as he meanly shoves you back, straddling your upper chest with his thighs as he hunches over you, looming ominously above with wild eyes screaming for chaos. “Good thing that I came along, huh? Make all your nasty little fantasies come true.” He watches you gasp as he presses his fingers against your lips, confusion evident on your face but you aren’t really putting up much of a fight as you open and let him slide two in. “Nasty fucking girl, look at you, when you don’t even fucking know me.” He chuckles, and while he’s teasing you mostly, he is amazed. You looked erotic as hell right now, little angel costume all wrinkled and a bit dirty from the earth below, pretty face a bit stained with mascara that had run a little from your earlier tears. You weren’t wearing the waterproof kind it seemed. Lips bitten and chewed on, plump and glossy from whatever glittery shit you swiped on them earlier now wrapped around his digits as he dug around in your warm wet mouth. “Suck on them, slut,” he orders, his smile dropping and face becoming more serious as you hurry to obey, a strange trepidation building in your gut. He groans as he feels your tongue wiggle and swirl, pumping his fingers a bit now and enjoying the little bleats you release when he chokes you a bit with them. “Wonder if you’re soaked down here~” he hums, leaning back a bit and yanking his fingers from your lips, wiping the excess saliva across your cheek and huffing a laugh as your features wrinkle in distaste. His hand moves behind him, easy access to your cunt due to the frilly dress hiked up almost around your waist, revealing cute soaked white cotton panties he growls at the sight of. “You really suck at putting up a fight, crybaby, but I think I heard somewhere that girls get wet when scared too…” those red eyes flick back to your own, "You scared?” He asks, almost softly. He watches you breathe, chest struggling a bit under his weight but your hands curled into the fabric of his hoodie, not pushing him away. “A little…?” Is your shaky response, and he wonders silently if you’re an idiot or just a pervert. You might be both, because when he lets his thumb dig into where your pussy lay poorly hidden, you moan for him and spread your legs wider. You make it even easier to search for his desired location, your swollen bundle of nerves. “O-oh—!” Your head falls back, little halo becoming a bit misshapen as it gets flattened to the ground, he tsks, fixing it with his free hand as he thumbs your little clit and watches you mewl and writhe beneath him, pleasure clearly visible on your face. Your hips buck and wiggle, body pinned beneath his and unable to get away or closer like you desperately want for more friction than he’s providing. “P-please,” you can’t help but beg, hoping your new friend is merciful enough to make you cum and not simply edge you all night.
It’s the pouty expression which makes him nearly feral, his grin spreading wide again as he keeps working his finger on your clit but his face closes the distance between your own. His lips just barely graze yours, and you are all too happy to part your lips and give him a sloppy kiss back, his own tongue finally slipping into your mouth where you suck. The smooth muscle in your mouth and the saliva dripping from it drive you wild, hands now dragging him closer and trying to make him do more for you. The heat spreads slowly however, his pace not changing, and despite his slim build he’s much stronger than you. You aren’t able to take any more than what is given, huffing in exasperation and groaning when he places more force before easing off. “S-stop teasing…” you whine against his lips, which were much softer than they look. He smirks, airy chuckle felt more than heard as he shakes with a silent laugh, “how can I not, you’re such a rare find, I plan to take my time with you.” He kisses you hard to silence whatever whines you planned to release to make him give you more. Instead he forces you into a slow building orgasm that leaves him having to pin your wrists above your head lest your clawing rip his skin open. He works you gently and cruelly into it, loving how you gasp and choke for him, eyes rolling back while you shake almost like you’re possessed and soak through your panties. “There you go, heh, normally I wouldn’t bother to take my time with whiny bitches, but you’re more obedient and sweet than I first assumed.” He whispers into your ear as you come down from the mind blowing high, body limp and pliant like dough now. The insult from him brings out a little whine of protest, teary eyes looking at him with almost something akin to betrayal.
“I-I don’t like being called mean names…I said so online too,” he pulls up finally, the chill of the night attacking full force on your now exposed cunt as he brings your panties up to his nose to inhale. His eyes narrow, almost into slits as he pulls them back and shoves them into his hoodie pocket. “Oh yeah? You post that shit on your social media or something? Sorry, I don’t really use those trash platforms. I have a Twitch stream though,” he acts like this is the time for a regular conversation, even as he unbuttons and unzips his jeans, yanking them down his hips to pull his cock free. Your eyes go wide, mind a bit blank and missing something, in favor of looking at him pump his length lazily. A trail of blue curls like on his head travel from his navel to his groin where it spreads out a little, the color a bit darker as it goes lower. He’s not one to shave it seems, but your eyes focus on his cock, average in length but girthy with a tip that curves up almost perfectly. It looks like a cock someone would sell as a dildo at a sex store. It was pretty, admittedly, as a few pearls of pre-cum dotted the tip and spilled over as he slowly worked it above you. “Hungry?” He jokes, but when you nod he grits his teeth and bites back a moan, the night truly more unexpected than he thought. “Open up then, crybaby.” He thankfully didn’t call you a bitch again, crybaby the less of the evils and more acceptable of a petname for your preference as you open your lips and awkwardly lean your head forward. “No need to lean up,” he mumbles, shifting until his knees now rested by your shoulders, tip just in your mouth and his forearms on the earth above your head. He’s looking down at you, and you lay back down as he works his cock in your mouth. He’s going to fuck your mouth, you realize a bit late, the position so easy for him to hit balls deep in your throat and prevent you from running just from his weight alone. You’re pinned to earth, the scent of crisp autumn becoming mingled with the musky masculine odor the stranger had clinging to him. Something smelled of iron too, but it was fainter and didn’t bother you too much, not when he seemed determined to suffocate you with his cock. You jerk a little, teeth accidentally grazing his cock and his hiss of pain alerts you that you’ve hurt him. He pulls up and out of your mouth, glaring ferociously as he looks down at you with contemplation. “Sorry—! I’m not used—,” the words leaving you mouth go unfinished as you’re suddenly looking away and down, confusion wracking your mind before white hot pain erupts across your face and you cry out in agony.
He watches with a cool nonchalance as you whimper and cry, holding your inflamed cheek and looking at him with teary eyes filled with questions. The sight doesn’t help his hardness, your face swelling a bit from the force of the blow already, but it was still arousing how you cried for him so easily. “Don’t bite my fucking dick and I won’t hit you, clear?” He’s grabbing you roughly by the hair again, yanking you up and no longer in the mood for that awkward position as he stands and pulls you to your knees. This position at least gives him a good eye full of your tits, shaking from your little trembling as you’re made to look up at him. His angry reddened cock next to your injured cheek is a sight for him, his hand gripping his shaft and slapping you lightly on the cheek with it, his hand in your hair preventing you from turning away even as you whimper in pain. “Okay, we’ll try this again, crybaby. Open.” You do, even as tears run like waterfalls down your face, mascara smeared and making a pathetic sight for sore eyes of you, you let his cock enter your mouth once more.
Because you’ve never been more aroused.
Your stranger isn’t nice, pushing hard and deep into your throat immediately and gagging you. You’re careful with your teeth, jaw already burning and aching as he locks his arm and hand, strands of hair tearing out as he works his hips into your face at an uneven pace. “Stop fucking moving,” he growls, stepping even closer, blocking any and all exits and forcing you to take it. His cock didn’t seem so scary when he’d pulled it out, but in your throat it was a plug to your oxygen and felt too big for your poor mouth. It hurt, feeling him go too deep and leaving you coughing and sputtering and even still he wouldn’t pull out, groaning and pressing impossibly deep like he truly means to suffocate you. “You got a good little mouth pussy, crybaby. Fuck—take my cock, just like that.” He moans, watching as you struggle on his dick to breathe or swallow, slobber and tears coating his cock as he makes a mess of your pretty face. He doesn’t care that your eyes are starting to roll back, hands which had previously been clawing at his legs going limp at your sides. You acted more like a hole for him to fuck when you were limp like this, and it drove him wild as he grunted like an animal and rutted into your mouth like he held a grudge against you. Both hands dug into your hair, hands pulling you back onto his cock when his hips bucked you away. “Never fucked a—holy shit—ah, mouth so damn good before—, ah fuck, fuck,” he’s getting breathier as time ticks by, his own eyes rolling back as his balls draw up tight. “I’m going to cum, ready for me crybaby? Want it in your tummy or on your face?” He’s being condescending on purpose, but it’s a bit useless considering he’s rendered you nearly unconscious on his dick. He shrugs your lack of response off, pumping his cock down your throat until he sees stars and yanks himself free just before the first spurt misses and hits the grass below, he grips the base, pumping and shooting his next shot right onto your face. He yanks your head against his thigh, delirious face dazed and coughing softly as he finishes on your glitter and mascara run cheeks, using the tip to smear it well into your ruined makeup as he sneers at you from above.
“Hah…” he catches his breath, sucking in oxygen along with you as his gaze turns calculated.
“Wake up, I’m not done with you yet.” He’s more gentle now that he's cum at least once, tapping your uninjured cheek with two fingers as your eyes roll around before opening and looking at him.
He swears, your face making him hard again instantly, blood pooling to his groin at the messy sight of you in your white ruined angel costume. “You really are unlucky I was out tonight, I don’t think I’m gonna let you go.” His dead serious comment caused something cold to hit your veins, chills running through you as you gape in shock.
“W-what…?” He reaches into his hoodie pocket, pulling out what looked like a foot long serrated hunting blade. He snickers at the blank look of shock on your features.
“What’s wrong, crybaby? No tears for me right now?” You’re shaking, getting paler by the second as you realize no, it’s not a costume, and yes, there is still dried blood on the blade. There’s dried blood all over him, his spree tonight ridiculously fruitful and his body still high on the thrill. Imagine his luck finding you. “T-this wasn’t in my profile, wh-what are you doing?” Now you look alert, now you act like a regular civilian, he notes cooly. “I only con-consented to the sex and stuff, I said I didn’t like—like blades or blood play.” Your eyes are wide as saucers and you have a cold sweat now forming and dotting your skin, shaky like on too much caffeine as your body dumped chemicals to help you run.
His head tilts, a few more strands of hair coming loose from his tie as those red eyes watch you without any emotion in their depths.
“Ah~ I get it now. Are you some kind of freak who links up with people online for this kind of shit?” He laughs, eyes not matching the manic toothy grin. “Sorry to disappoint slut, I ain’t your tinder or whatever match. Did you do it anonymously?” He’s beyond amused, thrilled by the horror dawning on your face as reality sets in. “You’re a fucking idiot.” He sneers, but he’s joyful when you book it, heeled boots caked in mud as they dig into the ground and you take off for real. True intent to get away now because he’s not your new friend, he’s a real stranger and his energy is nothing but malevolent.
You’re going to die.
It’s a sick thought that twists inside you as you push the hardest you’ve ever, scream bubbling up and out as you cry for help now. “HELP! Please! Someone! Anyone!” It’s more broken and hoarse than you want, his earlier abuse to your throat having taken a number on your ability to vocalize.
It’s empty. This damn park is empty.
Not a soul around and you can’t hear him coming for you anymore, and it only makes the tears fall harder as you drive your body to a breaking point. If no one is around you can at least aim for your car, your phone will take too much time to look at and dial the police, you’d be too open and that would mean—
Something—someone—smashes into you, your body thrown sideways by the brute force and flung roughly to the ground where you roll several feet.
It hurts—!
Your body and mind scream as pain lights up your shoulder, a previously dull ache now hounding for your attention so much it left you lightheaded. You twisted your ankle too or maybe broke it, already so regretful for the evening and your life choices that your shoes hardly broke the bank. It all hurt, and yet you still tried to crawl to get away, still eager for another deep breath of air in your lungs even if it hurt to do that too.
“Hck, please, please—help—!,” you’re a sobbing pathetic mess, and he couldn’t be more turned on by the sight. He dusts himself off like he hadn’t tackled you like a linebacker for a major league football team, his lanky form sinewy with muscle and his agility nothing to scoff at. He swirls the enormous daunting blade with a whistle, smiling more genuinely as he strolls towards your shaking form crawling away.
“Where do you think you’re going, crybaby? I said I wasn’t done with you,” he lands a solid hit to your middle, dirty sneaker smearing mud on your cute little dress, looking less and less white as the night wears on. The blow is not hard enough to damage anything, he’s sure, but you act as if you’ve been disemboweled by how you howl and heave. He rolls his eyes at the dramatics, settling one foot between your shoulder blades and pressing down until you’re left immobilized.
Your vision is blurry, going in and out of focus as you try, and try, and try to get away, cute nail polish chipped and ruined as you claw at the dirt floor for leverage.
He admires your tenacity. “You think you can get away? That anyone is coming to save you?” He brushes a few stray hairs out of his face as he laughs, the urge to gut you strong as he savors your useless little struggle. “Crybaby, look around! No one is coming! I said look,” he grinds out, dropping to one knee while his other leg remains planted on your back, his hand gripping your hair and yanking your head up to see what he meant.
There’s a fence. A metal chain link fence, and it had a sign your vision was too blurry to read through your tears.
“You ran yourself straight into the worst possible area, this is sort of your game over,” He leans down to look at you, yanking your head back and forcing you into an uncomfortable arch. He raises up the blade, fully intending to slit your pretty throat and watch your eyes as the light fades, but you blubber out a sentence which halts him.
“Y-you didn’t finish! E-earlier, hck, earlier you didn’t finish—!” Your eyes squeeze closed in pain as he yanks your head to the side. Confusion burned in him, and curiosity kept you breathing for now.
“Didn’t finish what, crybaby? Fairly certain I finished all over your face, if I remember correctly.” He has a sharp edge in his tone, something metallic fills your mouth and you realize you’ve bitten through your tongue in your panic. A few drops spill past your lips, catching his attention.
“S-shouldn’t you also f-fuck me too? I-it’s why I came out tonight, wh-why I, ah, d-did this,” it’s a long shot by any means, and he’s no fool, but you did make a good point.
He was still hard.
“Smart little crybaby, aren’t you?” He mutters darkly, setting aside his blade in favor of smashing your face into the dirt, keeping your head down as he presses against your back and yanks your hips up. Your knees are skinned from the rough handling, socks torn open and stained with blood and dirt while his calloused hands slip beneath your dress. Your breath hitches. You needed to think of some way out of this, some kind of plan to escape or incapacitate him.
He’s busied himself with your still dripping cunt. Two fingers roughly filling your hole and uncaringly stretching your tight entrance. “You really are a freak, wet even though you’re going to die, crybaby.” He felt a bit strange as you whimper and mewl below, hand slowing as he tried to place the feeling.
He shrugs it off, instead easily yanking down his jeans which were still unbuttoned and pulling out his cock once more, stroking his shaft a few times before he lined himself up with your puffy lips. “Fuck—,” he swears, eyes seeing stars as he pushes just his tip past the tight ring of muscle at your entrance, mouth opening as licks his lips and stares down at you. “Never had pussy so good…” he giggles darkly, cracking his neck as he pushes each inch inside of you, stretching you out deliciously until you’re speared on his cock with his hips flush with your ass. “Who knew you’d be the best, crybaby.” He muses, fingers digging into the fat of your hips, your little dress flipped up and over your ass so he can watch it bounce as he leans back on his knees to fuck you deeper. You need to think straight but it’s difficult with how good your body feels, the pain from earlier seeming to go away with a numb buzz as he fills your pussy, hitting perfectly against a spot that has you arching harder for more.
You really are a freak like he says.
You can’t help relaxing further, eyes dumbly looking to the side where your head rests as he pounds into you from behind, the coil in your gut growing tighter by the minute.
The clouds blocking the moon seem to part just for you, the full moon’s light no longer blocked and illuminating the little patch of grass he’d tackled you into. Something gleams, in perfect reach too as your eyes widen.
His knife.
He’d already proven you can’t outrun him, but what if he was injured? There’s a major artery in the thigh, if you hit that, wouldn’t you be able to get away?
He yanks back roughly, moaning as he feels you squeeze even tighter around him, velvet walls massaging his dick while he tries to fuck himself as deep as possible inside of you.
It hit you despite all your intentions not to, because this wasn’t safe and he wants to end your life and everything is wrong, but your body doesn’t listen. You cum with a shaky cry, and with an awkward turn of your head you watch as his head goes back and he moans, eyes closed in bliss as you coat his cock in even more slick.
You’re louder than you intended to be, but your fingers close around the hilt nonetheless, trembling with the heavy weight in your grasp, you use every ounce of energy inside you to swing it back into his thigh.
“Cute,” you scream as he catches your wrist, hand clenching so tight you feel your bones grind together as the knife falls from your grip. He twists your arm around and pins your wrist behind your back, holding it in place while his other hand remains at your hip.
“So fucking cute, crybaby. Did you cum just to distract me or was that because you couldn’t help yourself?” He’s getting a high from this, from fucking you and turning you into nothing but a toy as he bounces you on his cock, hips still but arms pulling you back and forth with ease. Scarlet eyes drink you in with undisguised sick glee, and he’s finally able to place the feeling from earlier.
“A pretty little slut trying to get her rocks off and getting shown why she should’ve been a good girl and stayed home,” he grunts, releasing you and leaning over, pinning you with his weight and nearly knocking the air from your lungs how deeply he hits you inside from this angle. Dirt fills the underbelly of your nails, your fingers digging into the earth just for some semblance of stability.
You had none. It was a sick and horrifying realization. You have no control. You can do nothing to stop this. As deeply as it made your gut sink, another odd emotion rose to the surface.
A bubbly sensation that tore through you as your tears became less from fear and more from overstimulation.
His hips piston in and out of you, bullying your cervix in this position as he ruts into you like a hound, tongue hanging out of his mouth as he moans and grunts.
You break again, spasm and cinch down on his cock like a vice while you wail as if in mourning. Maybe you are, for yourself at least. “Oh fuck—! s’too much—, please, I can’t—, f-feels good, hah,” your nearly incoherent babbling sends him over the edge along with you, his own dull nails finally drawing blood as he holds you for dear life as he releases deep inside you, tip kissing right up against you womb as he cums. You can feel it too, his cock twitching inside as the night seems to still for a moment.
He holds you for a while. Breathing you in, nuzzling his face into your neck and licking you. He holds you until his cock fully softens and it hurt to be gripped so tightly inside your wet heat, regrettably pulling away.
He stands, putting his sticky limp cock away inside his underwear and pulling up his pants, looking down at your ruined figure that had slumped over to the side.
“Y’know, crybaby… you really resemble an angel now,” he smiles, red eyes almost glowing as the moon blankets his back and shadows his face. His hair seems almost white like this, your tired eyes note. You don’t move or even flinch as he grabs his knife and yanks your limp figure up by your hair. Even now you’re still crying, face lax despite the rivers flowing down your dirty swollen cheeks. You make no effort to stop him, having given up completely.
He crouches down again, mostly eye level now as he makes you look at him.
“You got any last words?” He’s being dead serious. He feels strange looking at the almost glazed over look in your eyes.
“W-what…” your voice is barely a whisper, but the night is so quiet he catches it, “what’s your…name?”
An unexpected question.
His eyes gleam, smile ravenous as he puts his lips against your ear and whispers it.
“Tomura, what’s your name, crybaby?” He asks, gently, almost like he’s actually interested.
You hoarsely whisper it, your last time ever saying it after tonight. He hums, like it pleases him, before he brings down the knife swiftly.
Your vision goes dark, the strike mercifully painless. Your last thoughts blur as you drift into soft nothingness.
He releases your hair, grabbing your limp figure up in his arms as he chuckles and sheaths his knife properly on his hip. “Dumb crybaby” his voice almost singing the words as he whistles and walks away, the park dead silent but even if someone had seen you in his arms, he could just play the good boyfriend taking his sweetheart home safely. It’s not entirely a lie either, his eyes glancing down at your unconscious form, pretty neck unmarred but a bruise would likely form on the back where he struck you tomorrow. Tomura had never felt compelled to allow a victim to live, but then again he’s never fucked a victim either, so you’re the first for a lot. He supposed it made you quite special, his legs carrying him in the direction of his car in the parking lot about a mile south. Obsession and possessiveness swirled in those red depths as they looked at your figure.
“Good girls should just stay home…” he continues his sardonic little tune, his smile gruesome and foreboding.
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Vibrant blue orbs check his surroundings again, noting once again his friend was a no show. Rolling his eyes, he knew it was too good to be true. Your profile screamed inexperienced and cautious, despite you clicking that you’d like him to remain anonymous beforehand. It didn’t matter, he’d just go enjoy some sorority girl pussy instead, figuring at 0330 that most parties would be winding down. Drunk girls dressed like sluts were his second favorite.
Dabi clicks the notify option on his app, letting the website staff know you never showed up.
Though, he muses if something did happen, the police wouldn’t be notified until it was too late. Halloween weekend after all meant you could be missing for quite a while before anyone noticed.
Not his problem though.
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Post dividers/@cafekitsune
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sadesluvr · 3 months
Text
Dirty Little Secret
Even with a roster of sexual partners, Derek Danforth keeps coming back to you.
(Derek Danforth x GN! Reader)
A/N: I conjured this idea basically the moment Wallace started laying into Derek lmfao. You don’t have to have watched The Beekeeper to understand this (It’s chaotic and generic, but I had fun!) - Just know Derek is a coke and vape addicted, multi-millionaire crypto-selling playboy scammer who’s also the son of a president?😭 
The place mentioned in this fic (‘The Warehouse’) is fictional and not featured in the movie!
Word count: 1.3K
Tags: SMUT / Gender Neutral Reader / Drug usage (Cocaine) / WARNING: READER DOES A HIT OF COCAINE / Oral sex, M receiving / Degradation / Dirty talk / Implications of cheating / A little angsty, if you squint / This is just Reader giving Derek a blowjob so Minors DNI
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‘Need u. Meet me at The Warehouse’
You needn’t check the message twice to know who it was. 
There was only one person in your life who spoke to you like this; who disappeared on most weekdays, only to show up on weekends between the hours of midnight to 5AM without a care in the world. The man’s name was Derek Danforth, a guy who ‘just happened’ to be the son of now President, Jessica Danforth.
You hadn’t met him through any lavish political gala, nor from a meet-and-greet after an inspiring TED Talk - no, he’d chosen the oh-so classy way to slide into your DM’s on Instagram. You’d come to know that fast and sleazy was Derek’s brand.
At first you’d thought it was a scam, not wanting to believe that a millionaire would even bother to speak to you, but a quick $100 transfer into your linked account had told you otherwise.
‘Think I’m real now?’ He’d messaged back, and it was from there that he’d sent a valet to your place for what was supposed to be a hookup.
He’d fucked you so good that night; the feel of his fingers gripping your ass as he pounded into you from behind still etched into your skin. He’d left marks; from marks sourced from his rabid teeth on your neck, to marks from the metal of his rings that had dug tiny scratches into your flesh.  He hadn’t shut up the entire time, grunting and groaning in your ear about how much of a dirty slut you were, and how good your tight hole felt against his cock. He’d probably said that to all the people he’d fucked.
Still, it got to you, and apparently to him also. What started as an unsuspecting DM turned into full contact, with 3AM calls and erotic FaceTime sessions. Derek was often high off of coke, or drunk, or somewhere in between, all whilst puffing on his vape, huffing the thick white air like a dragon. Fitting, because he was dangerous.
And you’d been pulled into his shiny lair once again.
The Warehouse, or what you liked to aptly dub the ‘Whorehouse’ was an underground club, apparently run by Derek’s dealer. Yes, Derek hadn’t even had the courtesy to take you to one of his many properties to do his business, deciding that a sweaty basement would be best for you.
At least you could somehow remain anonymous.
“Knees, now. I want a blowjob,” Derek said in his usual dismissive tone as he slumped on a red couch before leaning forward and sprinkling a white powder on the table. You rolled your eyes as he snorted it, watching as he ran a hand through his mullet, absorbing the endorphins into his bloodstream.
He looked up at you with furrowed brows. He wasn’t one used to dealing with insolence.
“I don’t have all day.”
“Jeez, a ‘hey’ would be nice,” you grumbled. “I had to work overtime, I barely even got settled at home —“
“So? I don’t fucking care,” he scoffed. “There’s a couch, you can settle here.”
You knew damn well there wasn’t going to be any ‘settling’. And as much as you hated it, you loved it. 
Derek spread his legs expectedly as you dived between them, struggling with his zipper to take out his hard cock. It didn’t matter if he was average sized - he'd more than proved himself to know how to use it. Still, it never got lost on you as to how thick he was, the filling sensation of his cock in your mouth for the first time becoming one of your favourites. 
He was already leaking precum, and you wasted no time in licking the fluids up before moving down to the rest of his length, with your hand planted firmly on the base of his cock. You started off with slow, but deliberate motions, desperate to feel his girth in every crevice of your mouth, motivated by the male’s drawn out moans. His head was flung back against the top of the couch, arms spread as he basically gave himself up to you - one of the rare times he would only surrender.
Until he got impatient and placed his hands on the back of your neck, grip firm as he began to drag your head up and down his length, demanding you increase the pace. Pools of spit began to build up inside of your mouth as he did, accommodating to the sudden force. Every time you retracted from his length, the pink flesh began to glimmer; shine, even, as you serviced it. To some, it was a taboo and demeaning act, but to Derek, it was the ultimate act of your submission and devotion to him. To this day, even a year on from your first encounter, you couldn’t understand why he kept coming back to you.
“Fuck,” he drawled, clenching his teeth down on his bottom as he heaved. “You’re so fucking good at this - It’s like you were just made for my cock…”
The statement caused your stomach to backflip, only encouraging you to take him deeper. His thick head was now inches away from the back of your throat, threatening to make you gag. Unfathomably, you seemed tempted to take that risk, but Derek intervened.
“Here,” he said flatly as he gently pushed you off of him, leaning down towards the table. “Try this,” 
He rolls up a fifty and guides your head along the white powder. Your nose tingles and your heart clenches a little, but there’s no immediate effect.
“It’ll take a while, but trust me, you’ll fucking feel it,” Derek smirks, drawing you from your thoughts. “Good thing we’ve got all night,”
It wasn’t long before you were back on his cock, vessel gripped firmly in your hand as you began to stroke him up and down, in tandem with the movements of your neck. 
“You’ve never had blow like this before,” he laughs, hands frantic as they gripped at his thighs, trying to hold them still. “Then again, you’ve never had a dick like this before either, hm? Don’t you have a boyfriend to go home to? Poor guy. I must have you whipped…”
Desperate to respond, you popped his cock out of your mouth, but he held up a hand to 
silence you. 
“I really don’t need to fucking hear it,” he chuckled. “You’re such a slut, you know that? You suck my dick, moan like a bitch, and keep coming back for more, but here you are arguing with me…I’m beginning to think you like this little relationship of ours,”
Who was he kidding? You both knew the truth.
You hummed, and Derek ran his tongue over his teeth, his bouncing leg beginning to quicken. His hands found your head, gripping the back of your neck as his cock began to twitch, vein throbbing against the flat of your tongue. He was always his most animalistic in the heat of the moment; and even though you enjoyed the culmination of your hard work, it was also the time where he spouted things, words and phrases that you knew were nothing but bullshit, and yet clouded your eyes with hope.
“Moan for me,” he grunted, pupils blown as they focused on the pornographic display below him. “Tell me that I’m the best you’ve ever had,”
You let out a whine, and he hummed.
“Worship me,” he continued. “Show me how much you love me…Fuck – Open your mouth…!”
Swiftly, Derek removed his aching member from your mouth, eyes wide as he watched a bridge of saliva form from your raw lips to his skin. With a few slick pumps, his fell half lidded as he came over your face, streaks of white fluid coating your cheeks and lips, with some even falling in your lashes and dripping onto your nose. He convulsed, as if he were temporarily losing grip on his sanity and panted as he tried for air. He ran his hands across his beard before he cupped your cheek, an indiscernible look in his eye before he patted it.
“Clean yourself up. I want you nice and fresh for round two.”
It pained you that you were so enthusiastic to oblige.
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sunshine-theseus · 4 months
Text
Bia | Kyra Cooney-Cross x Reader
Words: 2.8k Summary: you create your own boots and meet the most beautiful girl  - sorry I also used this to info dump about the necessity for boots designed specifically for women to lower injury risks Warnings: none i think. lemme know if there are any requested by - @hottiedogs375 i hope you enjoy, it's probably not my best :( definitely not as good as pequeña i think
My family was more of a cricket family than a football one. I wasn’t really fond of either, the shouting was always too much, and the food was somehow sloppy yet rock hard at the same time. Even when we watched at home. The living room would be full of sweaty angry men, sometimes my mum and sister would join if our team was actually doing well. Meanwhile you’d find me in my room at the very back corner of the attic, my room, with headphones on to block out the noise, usually designing something.
Despite the cricket background, I found myself intrigued by the design of women’s football kits. In my design and technology class in year 13, I fell down a research rabbit hole on football boots for women. It was then I discovered the lack of adaptation for the shoe. Women often just wear smaller sizes of boots designed for men, which has been one of the factors in the increase in injuries in the women’s game and I’d decided I wanted to fix that.
That’s how I found myself in front of a crowd, made up of possible brand ambassadors and sponsors, as well as a range of women’s athletes from across the world, pitching my idea.
“And that’s why brands like Bia are important to the growth of women’s football. The shape of the boot, the length of studs, the sole support, they’re all contributing factors to how players perform. When women footballers use the men’s boots, which is basically the only option, they aren’t going to grow used to the details designed for male anatomy. It’s causing stress on not only their feet but every ligament, every bone, every piece of them is suffering because they have to try and adapt to things they can’t possibly adapt to.” I felt like the closing of my speech was rather strong, especially as I watched players and possible sponsors stand to clap. The noise echoes throughout the auditorium and a happiness bubbles within me.
“Thank you for providing me this opportunity. Please, if anyone has any questions.” I gesture to the stand-up microphone in the middle aisle, and people rush to line up.
“What made you intent on creating a boot specifically for women, risking money and time on something people have tried to do before? Something you knew wasn’t guaranteed to work?”
“I know it’s funny, but my family was not a football one, so I didn’t grow up knowing much about the game. But in my a-levels design and technology class, we had to research an issue prevalent in an existing design, and I for some reason was just drawn to the idea that women don’t even get the choice of having a boot made for them. I found it unfair and uncaring. Everyone expects women to play at the same level as men yet won’t provide them with the necessary equipment to do so without them having to risk, quite possibly their career. And I couldn’t just move on after the class, I knew that I had to do something about it. So I’ve spent the past 3 years perfecting the design and building the brand, to be here in front of you all today.” Another round of applause is heard throughout the room before the next person steps up.
She’s a footballer, that I know. Young, no older than 21, my age. And very very pretty.
“This question probably isn’t quite as important as that one but, what made you pick the name Bia? It just seems like an interesting name.” people chuckle at the question, and the (newly discovered) Australian shyly looks around.
“No, I love this question. Bia is the Greek goddess of force and raw energy. She’s actually Nike’s sister, the goddess of victory and very obviously the brand. I think Bia resembles a lot of things within female athletes. They have this driving force and unbelieve power that they bring, and it just felt so right.”
“That’s sick. Can I also quickly ask, sorry, are these boots made for every female athlete? Like can someone in track and field use these or are they just for footballers?” the girl smiles brightly after her question, and I have to remember not to lose focus.
“While the primary focus is obviously footballers, I have researched the compatibility of boots between sports and yes, a professional sprinter like Sharika Jackson can use them just as well as you or Alexia Putellas could. And of course as the brand grows we’ll be able to develop even further and broaden our research further in creating boots fit for anyone.”
-
Questions carry on for a while, then I disappear behind the curtain that’s suspended behind me, rushing to remove my microphone. Eventually I slide out the side door and reach the separate room booked for ‘mingling’ after the panel.
Between talking to rich people desperate to make it seem like they care about others, and athletes who are very eager to know everything they can about the shoe, I try to keep an eye out for the nameless Australian. Every time I think I’ve spotted her; it seems she disappears. Bodies keep moving and she seems to be one of them.
Then I bump into someone. We both go stumbling but she catches me just before I head for the floor.
“I am so sorry I wasn’t looking where I was going.” And there she was, the girl I’d been looking for.
“No, no need to apologise. I’m Y/n.” I give her a hand to shake.
“Kyra.” There’s a pause before she continues.
“I’m a big fan of your boot. It’s truly incredible.” It’s hard not to blush and sputter out random sounds at her praise.
“Thank you. I’m really hoping this function works out.”
“Well I was thinking, when it does, if you need ‘a face of Bia’…”
“Oh my god yes that would be amazing. Seriously you have no idea how cool that would be.”
We talk for quite some time, and she sticks by my side when someone else comes to talk and ask question. When it’s time to go home we exchange numbers and that’s the first and last time I see her for a while.
-
5 months later is the next time I see Kyra in person. We’d both been travelling a lot, me for sponsors, ambassadors, and athletes, her for work. I’d expected to meet with her a few more times before we kick started the ‘face of Bia’ photoshoots, but as the fates had it, we found ourselves in a large warehouse, photo equipment, and many boxes of my shoes filling the space.
It suddenly all started to feel very real, and that made me nervous. So I packed myself into a small room in the corner as I tried to calm down, hoping the isolation and quiet would help me feel better.
Not even 2 minutes in, someone is following and taking a seat next to me.
“You right?” the voice is familiar and smooth.
“Yeah, yeah of course I am. It’s not like the biggest thing I’ve ever worked for in my life is basically in its final stage of release in the next room and I’m freaking out about it. What if they aren’t actually good? What if th-”
“I’m going to stop you right there. You sent me a pair 2 months ago, and I told you I would test them before saying anything, and I did just that. I took them to training. Ran on the pitch, walked, kicked the ball, passed, made risky moves. And what did I tell you after that?”
“‘These are the best fucking shoes ever.’ But what if they aren’t?”
“Listen Y/n, how many other athletes, not just me or footballers, did you send a pair to for testing?”
“Like 43. Basically every one that came to the panel plus some more.”
“How many told you they were good?”
“43.”
“Exactly. So we’re going to go out there together, you’re gonna tell the photographer what you want to see, every opinion, every change, anything, and we’re going to finalise your fucking dream.” Kyra picks me up without me even agreeing, and basically carries me out to the set up.
Ali Kreiger, despite her recent retirement, was currently being photographed. She’d been the one to reach out to me when she heard from, someone, and wanted to be an ambassador. I probably screamed so loud my neighbours thought I was getting murdered that day.
“They’re going to want a couple photos of you too probably. Either with the shoes or with one or all of us. Okay?” Kyra rubs a hand up and down my back as I take it all in.
I nod vigorously and try to shake my hands to get rid of the remaining nerves, eventually taking a seat next to the photographer, Eve. She asks for my input on every shot and manages to carry out my vision without fail every single time. As players filter in and out, I begin to truly relax and allow myself to take in the moment.
Zimmorlei Farquharson and Poppy Boltz, two AFLW players for the Brisbane Lions, were being photographed together when Kyra slid into the spare chair next to me. She didn’t say anything but when I looked over, I had to quickly look away again. Her outfit wasn’t something out of the ordinary, a loose cropped top and bike shorts, plus the sage green boots she was promoting. But the strip of skin that was exposed between her shirt and shorts was enticing and it was hard not to stare at the way her muscles contracted every time she moved in the seat.
I’m certain she caught me staring.
As she stands to take over the Australian Football players, Kyra leans over and whispers in my ear. It takes me a moment to process her words and by then she’s already under the lights.
“Good thing we’re taking some pictures. They’ll last longer.” To say I was stumped was a rather big understatement. Was she flirting with me?
I don’t get to think about it too much, Kyra looking my way every time she changed position or began to play around with the ball provided.
Not long after, I’m asked to join all the girls in front of the camera for a few shots. I knew it was coming but my heart still dropped into my stomach, and I choked on my breath. As expected, it’s Kyra who grabs my hand and instructs me to breathe slowly. Her thumb runs over the back of my hand and the motion begins to sooth me.
I take a place in front of the camera and the group of athletes. I’m not quite sure how to stand, but Kyra takes the space behind me, resting an arm over my shoulder and the other around my waist. It forces me to lean back naturally and as the girls around us take a stance, Eve continues to shoot.
“You and Kyra have a lot of chemistry by the looks of it, and she’s who you’re most comfortable with. Use that. Make it natural. The girls around you will adapt.” I expect the comment from Eve, but it’s Ali who puts a hand on my shoulder and reassures me.
With that instruction, and a nod from Eve, Kyra jumps on my back. It’s a pose that helps with showing off the boot and making me laugh. She then jumps off and takes my hands, turning me to face her as she dips. I rush to catch her as she falls, our faces a hair width apart.
Before I can think, I close the gap. My lips press hard against her’s as the camera shutter repeatedly goes off, but I don’t think anything of it. Until I pull away.
I almost drop her once my thoughts catch up to me.
“I am so sorry. What the fuck did I just do?” the rest of the girls had already walked away, so it was just us.
“Nothing you should regret or feel bad for.” Kyra stands right in front of me, our lips basically touching again.
“And maybe you should do it again.” I pause for a moment before leaning back down, kissing her again.
~~~~~
It takes three more weeks for the official brand release. After years of designing, making, spending every cent I had on these boots, Bia was officially the first woman specific sports boot.
Kyra’s first Arsenal game wearing them was the day of the release. She ended up talking about them in post-match interview after being asked “how were you excelling so well in the midfield today?” Not only was Bia’s sale numbers skyrocketing and the media account blowing up, so was my own.
I’d of course attended the match, excited to see them as an officially released boot. Someone had spotted me in the crowd and tweeted about it, talking about ‘the creator of that new boot brand is watching Kyra rep them for the first time live’. Someone else had caught me hugging Kyra on the pitch after the game and giving her a kiss on the cheek.
The rumours could only be expected. They also couldn’t be denied. Not without lying.
“I’m so proud of you.” The smooth Australian accent almost lulls me to sleep as we rest in Kyra’s bed, the sheets hiding our bare skin.
Her fingers trace shapes on my hip as she holds me, and I kiss along her collar bones and neck.
“And also very, very grateful for your genius brain creating those boots. Not only for helping my game play, but for bringing you to me.”
“I’m also grateful for my genius brain bringing us together.” I tease before softly kissing her.
It’d been impossible to escape her charm after our kiss at the photoshoot, so naturally we went on a date. And another, before she asked me to be her girlfriend. Eve sent me those photos just in case we wanted them in the brand release post. They currently sat in my hard drive, but it was very tempting to post a couple.
Kyra wanted a moment of privacy before the world knew, but I knew it didn’t matter whether it was out or a secret, as long as I had her.
-
A new power couple is on the rise in the world of Women’s Football. Creator of new women’s sports boots brand Bia, Y/n L/n, spotted with girlfriend, Arsenal and Matildas midfielder Kyra Cooney-Cross at a café in North London this morning before the London Derby. The couple confirmed their relationship mere days ago with photos of the lovebirds kissing from L/n’s brand shoot.
I laugh at the article as Kyra pulls into the Emirates parking, hand in mine. I’d become rather acquainted with her teammates and they begged me to come to the London Derby on the weekend. I couldn’t refuse when my girlfriend pulled out the puppy dog eyes and promised to ban me from any sort of affection, specifically kisses, for the week.
“You better win. I have a bet going with Niamh that you’ll beat her and I cannot lose a bet against her again.” Kyra chuckles and leaves with a kiss, sending me into the friends and family section of the stands.
It was nerve wracking going alone, but it was for Kyra and that was all I cared about. Supporting her like she supported me.
-
Kyra doesn’t start, which had been expected. Despite it, the girls were playing well and were up 3-1 at half-time. No yellow cards for either team had most people shocked though. The derby was known to be rough and physical, yet it seemed things were rather calm for the situation at hand.
There’s a substitute at half-time that puts Kyra back on the pitch. I blow a kiss when she looks my way as she jogs out and she pretends to catch it and place it on her cheek. Both of us are unaware of the interaction being caught on the big screen while people wait for the countdown.
It’s when extra time is announced that everyone in the stadium knows Arsenal have won the game. The Chelsea players look tired and defeated and the Arsenal girls don’t look much different, apart from the massive smiles that grace each one of their faces. The final whistle blows, and the crowd erupts in deafening cheers for the gunners, and I can’t help joining in.
After congratulating the blues on their performance and huddling with her own teammates, Kyra comes running for me. The guard on the other side of the barrier grows wary when I stand, clearly about to jump it, but Kyra gives him the okay and grabs me by the waist, helping me join her on the pitch.
“I’m so fucking proud of you.” I whisper as she stands on her tippy toes.
Her arms wrap tightly around my neck and mine go around her waist as she pulls me in for a kiss. It’s deep and passionate and the crowd around us cheers, some of the girls joining in.
“We’re both kinda killing it aren’t we?” I let out a laugh as she hops on my back, pointing me in the direction of her Matilda’s teammates, even Sam, who are grouped in the middle of the field.
She sprinkles kisses around my face as they talk between each other and I’ve never felt more content.
Fuck cricket, football is the sport for me.
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janitorhutcherson · 5 days
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Groceries, Taxes, & Laundry (MSchmidt Fluff)
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hey guys, it's me. i'm finally back. did y'all miss me? the writing of this is a lil diff, sooooo please enjoy and lmk what you think!
content: pure fluff yall.
-----------------------------
Grocery shopping with Mike Schmidt is… special, to say the least. He absolutely despises it. The dreaded time comes around at the end of every week, your vegetables in the fridge starting to wilt, the meat from the previous trip used up, and all of your snacks have been devoured from late night munchie runs to the pantry (xoxo i love gardening!!!). He knows it has to happen. He knows you’ll wake him up early on Sunday morning like always, because apparently it’s “better to get it out of the way,” which he thinks is, well, to put it lightly, utter bullcrap.
You’ll drag him and Abby out to your local grocery store, her drowsy and jittery all at the same time with the promise of pancakes from a local diner after. Once you arrive, you’ll pull out all of the far-too-expensive reusable bags out of the trunk of Mike’s dingy car, ready to fill them with the necessities. Why get those for 3 bucks when you can get the plastic ones for free? He’ll never understand your logic, something about saving the environment, but it’s okay, he loves you enough not to complain, at least out loud.
The fluorescent lights of the room filled with half asleep employees hits Mike’s eyes like he’s looking directly into the sun. He lets out a small grumbled sigh as he takes in the scent of sterile cleaning supplies and produce mixed in one, with the strange almost play doh like smell of the bakery. Your eyes cut over to him, eyebrows raised, Abby’s hand in yours as she rubs her droopy eyes. Mike can’t help but to crack a small smirk, his lips pursed together. “What?” he’ll question innocently, letting out a small snicker as you go deeper into the dreary establishment. 
At the produce aisle, Mike shivers a little as the water from the misting sprinkler on the shelves hits his bare skin. He should’ve worn his jacket today, he usually does, and he’s regretting the one time he hasn’t. Your eyes are glancing over carrots, broccoli, cucumbers, and squash, all that are somehow both too ripe and too.. What's the word... unripe? Sure, he’ll go with that. His hand reaches out to grip yours in a gentle grasp as Abby points to a particularly fluffy bushel of broccoli. “I want that one! It looks like pretty trees,” she giggles out, finally starting to wake with the day. You let out a giggle of your own and Mike smiles because of how pretty your laugh is.
Next, you’re in the snack aisle, filling the cart with doritos, barbeque chips, pringles, salt and vinegar chips (mike gags when you eat them too close to him), peanut butter filled pretzels, whatever can go in Abby’s lunch box and whatever is tastiest. Mike insists on buying the cheap queso, his nose scrunching up at the price of the name brand one. He knows it doesn’t taste any different.
Now you’re looking at meats, finding chicken breasts and filets, steaks, pork, whatever was on your list from meal prepping. Yes, meal prepping, Mike did that now. Apparently stable people with stable lives who had stable relationships did that. He’d grown fond of sitting over a recipe book with you on Saturday nights, really, shoulder to shoulder, pressed up on the couch well after Abby had gone to bed. Something about it felt safe, a kind of domestic feeling he wasn’t used to.
You’re basically done now, and he couldn’t be more relieved as you make your way towards the dairy section. He grabs a few things, string cheese, yogurt, cream cheese, cheese slices for sandwiches for work. Oh, did he mention he works in construction now? It’s stable, makes good money, and he’s home on time to see you, to be a husband-not-yet-husband (he plans to propose soon, but that’s another story), a brother-more-like-a-father, a person with a regular schedule. He looks over at you, watching as you and Abby skim over the different selections of chocolate and strawberry milk, finally settling on a carton of strawberry. He once again scrunches his nose, smiling all at once. “Nasty,” he mumbles out. Abby playfully hits his arm and you lean in for a kiss.
Finally, thank god, you push the cart towards the bakery section, grabbing bread and a sweet treat or two for the week. Cookies, a birthday cake for no particular reason, cheese danishes, whatever his little family was feeling for the week, that’s what it’d be. This week, it was a huge box of chocolate chip cookies and some kind of cherry pastry he’d never had before. You three finally head to checkout, where everything is stuck in those stupid reusable bags and the price of everything you got feels obscenely huge for what’s in your cart, but he pays it anyway. Walking to the car, in the trunk the groceries go as you all climb in one by one, ready to head for pancakes.
As he reverses the car out of his good (only because it was so goddamn early) parking spot, he can’t help but sigh, this time with contentment as Abby rambles on about a new imaginary (hopefully) friend, your own grin wide as you ask questions, making sure she feels heard. “I love you guys, love doing things with you guys,” Mike mumbles out, reaching his hand over to your thigh as he glances back at Abby too. And it was true, he’d do anything with you two. Hell, if all his life consisted of grocery shopping, taxes, and laundry? Yeah, he’d be ok with that too.
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amostnobleyandere · 1 year
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Yandere! Noble! Scaramouche x GN! Reader (Arranged Marriage)
A/N: hey look first post!!!! this blog is basically just a place to dump my thoughts on yanderes and situations w them// if you’re not comfortable w that, please leave!!! this is not the place for you
GN reader but!!! the word “bride” is used once so do w that what you will .
remember, this is a mature blog !!! don’t like don’t read!!!!!!!!
warning(s): male! yandere, toxic relationships, slightly narcissistic yandere, verbal abuse, child neglect, arranged marriage, toxic behavior, bad parenting skills, loneliness, obsession, yandere scaramouche, scaramouche is his own warningetc. etc.
Synopsis: there’s this specific scenario ive been thinking of lately : an enemies to lovers, but with a yandere that is particularly bitter and hasn’t really experienced an unconditional love before but then his initial hatred of you turns into an obsession. I thought scara was perfect for it :)
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neither of you had wanted to get married; you, the child of the last bloodline of a falling noble family, and scaramouche, heir to one of the wealthiest and most prestigious names in the empire, would have never been pushed to marry under normal circumstances. it could only be assumed that fate had revealed its hand and placed its destiny upon you.
you had never even met the young man that society had branded as ruthlessly curt with a lash-like tongue. you had never expected to, considering how far apart you were, in different circles and in different worlds
he was the duchess’ nephew and only heir, and was untouchable in both stature and power. in contrast, your family name was declining rapidly. you knew why your mother and father had accepted the marriage proposal the day it came, and you knew why they decide not to tell you until the letter in reply had already been sent. you had no say in the matter
how you parents arranged a marriage between the two of you? well, you could certainly guess; noble ladies gossiped and gasped about the young man who was rich with a handsome face, but with an incredibly arrogant personality and a razor tongue that both reflected his wit and endless scorn. you thought that the rumors must have been over exaggerated, as they always were, but for the duchess to have to reach out to your family to find a spouse for her son? had all the other contestants being rejected, and now they were picking through the scraps that were left? or perhaps, had they rejected him?
now, you weren’t so sure
even then, some part of you had never thought they would agree to something like this; they had concluded that this was what was best for you, had even told you that you will live a much happier life if you were in a household that wasn’t always on the edge of crumbling and giving way to time; you could see that they did have the best of intentions. and still, you felt betrayed
unbeknownst to you, at the time, your fiancé had felt the same way toward his mother; the expression of his feelings on the matter, however, included a lot more yelling and rage in his questions as to why he was being dragged into this. he was used to being disappointed, but being so blatantly used?
unfortunately, scaramouche’s defiance was only met with a cold silence and a blank stare, and after he had vehemently denied to go along with the marriage, his mother had only said that nothing could be done. he had no choice in the matter.
and the gentle glint in her eyes, that had still remained their after all these years, that stayed as she firmly reprimanded him, only served to make him more furious.
and so, his resentment for you, the other victim in this situation, came naturally.
when he met you for the first time, his regularly crass and sarcastic attitude only got worse. you could see the embarrassment dawn on both your parents’ and his mother’s faces, cringing every time his voice got a little too loud or when he said something particularly blunt. he made snide comments on your upbringing, your title, even your clothing wasn’t spared the ruthless bite of his words. between his curt and cold attitude and your futile attempts at making conversation, you two didn’t exactly hit it off when you first met
and then, when you finally got sick of it and told him what exactly you thought of his words and his money and where he could shove them, his resentment turned into something much more personal: spite.
he reasoned that he had every right to hate you. to be overly rude and childish whenever you so much as got the idea to be five feet near him. he never asked for the marriage. he doesn’t care about how much it would benefit the two of you, and he’s long past trying to finally please his mother into loving him, so why should he have to act like the perfect husband for someone who is below him?
your parents seemed to love you plenty though. if their guilty eyes and shifty glances were anything to go by. even if they were shamelessly grabbing at the wealth and prestige of another family, he could tell that this marriage was meant for you and your future. even if you didn’t want it. even if you seemed to dread it. every time they brought you over for a scheduled date in the lonely garden at the back of the duchess’s estate, there seemed to be a subtle pain in their eyes.
perhaps, a paternal regret at having to make their child miserable so that they could eventually have the things they weren’t able to give them.
…well, it gave him more reason to torment you.
————————
there seemed to be no way out of the awkward meetings. your parents were hell bent on having scaramouche as your husband, and his mother was just as determined. so, when you did have to suffer through seeing each other, you kept trading thinly veiled insults, practically sulking every time you heard the others name, and bickering with the each other at every opportunity. it became a familiar routine for the two of you, to not get along and verbalize your frustrations through jabs and taunts
strangely enough, scaramouche grew fond of the bickering. you were practically the only person who would speak to him so casually. with so little respect and without fear of him blowing up. he thought it was refreshing. no one hardly ever talked to him anymore, and even a child that had everything and more could not curb his own loneliness by himself…he would never tell you that, though.
he thought that at least it was entertaining to tease you. actually, if you weren’t so annoying, he might have actually gone as far to say it’s pleasant having you in his company. It certainly beats the large, lonely house he had to wander every day.
plus, when was the last time he had talked this much? when someone had looked at him and acknowledged his existence without him having to work for it?
—————————
as the engagement progressed, you two ended up spending hours together every week, whether you wanted to or not, and while you were mentally and emotionally exhausted from the stress your parents were putting you through, he’s looking forward to your meetings like they’re the highlight of his week…it’s ridiculous, he thinks, and he thinks, and he thinks, and oh god now he can’t get you out of his head.
then suddenly, you’re calling it off. the whole engagement. miraculously, you guilted your parents into going back on what they had agreed to.
his mother is appalled and frustrated, a bit exasperated now that she has to find another suitable bride for her son.
scaramouche is beyond furious.
he goes quiet with rage. he’s more snappish now, towards the maids, towards everyone. his attitude is no longer his usual arrogance and crudeness. his usual bitterness rose into an explosive temper and ruthless training just to keep himself confined to a state of sanity. there is, once again, for the first time in many, many years, an unmistakable fear of abandonment that is raging in his head. he feels so wronged.
and it’s your fault.
and then, he goes silent. if they thought it was bad when he talked, see what they think when he’s quiet.
for his mother, it’s unnerving. to the servants, it’s downright terrifying.
no one realizes that he’s calculating. no one really expects it. everyone assumed this was one big temper tantrum after suffering a huge blow to his pride.
scaramouche was really only clutching his shattered heart after giving it to someone who threw it away.
—————————
what he wants at first is revenge.
that’s what he wants to think he wants. he wants to make things even between the two of you; make you suffer like you made him. force his way into your mind in the worst way possible, and keep himself there to get the message across.
for the first few agonizing days after the annulment, he thinks; maybe that he should tamper with your parents businesses and make you a pauper, someone who is reduced to having to take care of their parents after you fall from the graces of society. and then, after that, he’s hoping you’d come crawling back to him, and ask for his help and his hand. and he’d oh-so graciously accept you back into his life; not before making you beg for it, though.
then again, perhaps toying with whatever lover you have would be a good way to get back at you. he just assumes that you have one, because you must, for you to just abandon him like that.
you should have just stayed.
either way, he’s going to make you regret it.
—————————
it doesn’t take much for scaramouche to convince his mother to have a much needed talk with your parents.
and despite everything she’s done, ei does want to make her son happy. she wasn’t blind after all; he’s always seemed to be on edge, ever since the accident, but he had changed in the short amount of time he had know you. the boy she had failed to raise and care for, someone who was now so far out of her reach, seemed to be more calm and content when you were by his side. it had been a long time since she had seen her nephew look forward to something this much.
whether you want the engagement or not matters less to her.
—————————
and so, your resistance all comes apart so easily. Ei is one of the most powerful people in the empire, so it doesn’t take much effort before she’s luring your parents into throwing you back to them and into scaramouche’s waiting arms. It would be the least she could do as his mother
it’s only a matter of time before you’re resting in the palm of his hand once again; the engagement is back on, running smoothly towards your fast approaching wedding, like your little rebellious mishap never even happened
scaramouche is reveling in it. he feels as though he’s won. and in truth, he has. he imagines the look on your face, how you’ll have to greet him eventually, look him in the eyes after tossing him to the side and then losing, and thinks about how he’s going to make your reunion as painful as possible when you do meet again
his wishes are fulfilled when not even a month later are you pushed into the expansive garden by servants and abandoned by them even quicker, watching them scurry away with pale but oddly relieved faces. once again, you were meant to suffer through another lunch date after you thought you had finally escaped and left the gloomy estate behind forever.
the familiar stone pathway and expansive flora only served to bring back bad memories of your failed attempt to gain your freedom and reminded you of what you would have to look forward to for the rest of your life. it’s only the scuffle of boots against the ground that brought you back to reality.
you knew exactly who was standing behind you.
—————————
when scaramouche saw you standing there, muscles taught and shoulders tensed as you refused to look at him, he took his time observing you, savoring the moment and committing it to memory.
his slow and deliberate footsteps did little to calm your fraying nerves. You were both surrounded by tall hedges and the gentle sound of water coming from nearby fountains. no one else was around. You were completely isolated, with only your fiancé- no, your crazed future husband- keeping you company.
and as always, his presence was suffocating.
“you know, trying to run away from me was cute, but it got annoying after the joke was over. did you really think you could go against a duchy? don’t make me laugh.” his voice had a high and condescending lit to it that seemed to grate against your ears. your stony facade crumbled soon after, instantly revealing the confusion and panic that welled in your chest.
“…why did you do it?” your voice came out hoarse and low. you whirled around, finally looking into those violet eyes. scaramouche felt a shiver of excitement run up his spine as your watery gaze met his.
“you hated this engagement just as much as I did. why did you drag me back here? we both could’ve been free.” a bitter laugh escaped your throat that pathetically choked off into a sob.
he laughed lowly as his head titled down, shielding his eyes from you. the sight made you shudder involuntarily.
“‘drag you back?’ deary, you belong to me. you did the moment I decided I wanted you. what you want doesn’t matter anymore. You don’t know what’s good for yourself, clearly.”
when he lifted his head back up to meet your eyes, he was smiling. the soft turn of his lips wasn’t full of cruelty or malice, scorn or hatred, and somehow that made the uncharacteristically gentle look so, so much worse.
scaramouche picked up your limp hand, gently turning it over, and slipped a ring onto it. it was like putting a heavy shackle on a caged bird; it was needless and unnecessary, you were already trapped. the world did not need anything else but the duchess’s final word to let everyone know who you belonged to.
but, as you stood there staring blankly ahead, you noticed scaramouche seemed genuinely happy to see the band resting on your finger.
the smile he wore turned more playful, more mocking, as those piercing eyes looked at you as if you were pitiful and small, beneath him, something that needed guidance
and his purple eyes locked with yours as he slowly pulled you to him and brought you into a soft kiss.
—————————
“Give me your love. Give me your validation. Hand yourself over to me, body, mind, and soul.”
“And what if I don’t want to?”
“Darling, do you think you have a choice?”
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sapphicmsmarvel · 2 months
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acotar x reader: one day at a time
Tw for death: 
Reader loses somebody and their friends are there to pick up the pieces. A lil sprinkle sprinkle of az x reader bc that's MY BABYYYY
Lotsssssss of acts of service within the group. 
Also bc im a petty asshole i included a snippet of one of my racist aunts who said some wild shit to me at MY SISTERS FUNERAL and just basically dissing her. (literally why would you stare at my poc best friend who's just trying to support me. This bitch stared at MY GIRL?? MY BESTIE???? NUH UH NOT ON MY WATCH BITCH). 
Said best friend was just like “she’s never seen a brown person before marie it's fine.” 
NO ITS NOT. IDC IF THIS IS MY SISTERS FUNERAL WE’LL MAKE IT A DOUBLE FUNERAL. 
I'm petty. 
soooo this is born out of grief for my sister. My sister passed away on 03/11/21 and this is very much catered to my grief and these are my comfort characters so naturally i'm gonna write about them when it comes to helping their loved one grieve. 
and yeah this is gonna be based around the reader's sister dying. what can i say. I'm on brand. 
also reader is feyres childhood friend that got turned into a fae with nesta and elain. i feel like that’s just the staple with my fics. 
---------
When you got notified of your sister's death, it was actually a pretty good day up until that point. Sunny day with clouds, a wonderful brunch date with Mor, adorable children at the studio with Feyre. Afterwards, the two of you began walking back to Feyre’s, content on playing with Nyx for the evening before retiring to your own home. When you walked up, Feyre looked at you and told you about how the Inner Circle were having a meeting inside the office. So you two quickly joined them. 
When you walked in, Rhysand held out a letter, “this was a letter delivered to you.” 
You made a face and grabbed it, “okay, so why are you all staring at me like that?” 
“This person walked into the Spring Court and dropped it on Tamlins doorstep.” Cassian said. “They dropped it in the middle of night, just when he wasn’t prowling like a creep.” 
“What the fuck?” You asked as you analyzed it. 
No name but yours and a pisspoor address. 
Lady Y/N L/N
Night Court
“We didn’t know if it was a…” Azriel trailed off, realizing how silly what he was about to say was. “Hence, why all of us are here.”
“We’re also just nosey.” Mor shrugged, her nose wrinkling. 
You snorted, and tore into it, “you could’ve opened it.” 
“It’s your mail. We may be protective bastards but you still have a right to privacy.” Rhysand drawled. 
Feyre stood next to you as you pulled out the paper, your eyes tracing over it. 
“It’s from my dad.” You said recognizing his handwriting. 
Then, it all went to shit. 
Your big sister was dead, the woman you fought with a lot of the time but yet would take a beating for. Your big sister who helped guide you through life, who would always be there even if she was pissed off at you for some inane reason.
Gone.
You just froze, not knowing what to do. You’re pretty sure Az asked you a question, then Cass, then Rhys. Then you felt Feyre’s hand on your shoulder. 
I need to leave. 
I need to go before I hurt someone. 
You just wordlessly handed the letter to her and winnowed away. 
You didn’t go to your apartment, you didn’t go to the townehouse, you didn’t go anywhere they would find you. 
You went to the middle of the forest. You just picked a random point to lose it.
And you did. 
You didn’t remember much of causing the damage. Only that you managed to stop when Azriel’s arms wrapped around you. You just kept screaming. “I know, I know. It’s okay, it’s okay, I’m here.” He said, his lips against your hair. 
His shadows wrapped around your hands, cool wind kissing away the raging inferno of your cuts. You collapsed, taking Azriel to the ground. 
He just held you as you sobbed. You felt his own tears hit your neck. He usually did a better job masking his emotions, but it was you crying, you who he had a deeper bond with. So he let his emotions run free.
“Y/N!” Feyre called into your mind. Your shields were down and you didn’t even notice.
“Az has me, i’m sorry I-” 
“Don’t apologize. I would’ve done worse if I found out…” Her voice trailed off. 
“I’m sorry I ran off.” 
“Do not apologize.” She said sternly, “After you and Az are done come back to the River House. You can sleep at our house tonight. Guest bed is currently being made up.” 
She left your mind before you could respond. You breathed in the smell of Az. 
Azriel brought you back to Feyre and Rhysand’s home. Rhys had trouble with touch, but never with you. He brought you into his arms instantly. You tried not to let the tears surface again, but it was quite hard when a brotherly kiss was pressed against your head. 
“We got you, Y/N.” He whispered against the crown of your head.
Nuala and Cerridwen made you your favorite food. Which prompted you to start crying again. The twins looked so panicked that it almost made you laugh. Elain made your favorite cookies, which again kept the tears going.
“I don’t know why I’m crying over this.” You said helplessly, you managed to laugh during that. 
Feyre and Elain hugged you from both sides. 
You retired to the guest bedroom, you found a pile of fluffy blankets and your favorite candy. As well as a bouquet of your favorite flowers with Mor’s handwriting scrawled on the note. Amren left you a bottle of your favorite wine too. 
Eventually, after some more tears, there was a knock at your door. You called out for them to come in but saw Nyx. 
The little guy was walking even more, speaking full sentences. It’s insane to you that he grew so fast but it has been 5 years since he was born. 
“Go on like we practiced.” You heard Feyre encourage from behind the door frame. 
“Hi, Auntie.” The little guy mumbled. Holding a glass of water. “I have something for you.” 
“Yeah buddy?” You smiled despite the shitty day. Your nephew made everything better. 
Rhysand walked in behind him, as did Feyre. Rhysand lifted him up onto the bed while Feyre handed you a cup of hot chocolate. 
You were just glad Nyx wasn’t holding the hot drink. 
“Here’s some wata.” He said, his small hands handing you the glass. 
“Oh thank you.” You said earnestly and took a sip. You set it on the table. Then you laid back down and faced him. “Just what I needed.” You were genuine. 
“Auntie, are you sad?” Both Feyre and Rhys froze at their sons question. Clearly, he was going off script. 
You sniffed, “yeah, Nyxie. I’m really sad.” 
“I love you.” His eyes were so big, so genuine. You were going to cry for a whole new reason. 
“I love you more.” 
“Nuh uh.” He said, as a typical toddler wanting to argue no matter what. 
You huffed a laugh and opened your arms. “Come here.” 
He crawled into your arms with no hesitation. You were careful of his little baby wings as you held him close to you. 
You loved this kid. 
Feyre settled in behind you on the bed, Rhysand joined on the other side with his son. 
They held you as you drifted off into a dreamless sleep, hoping to see your sister one last time. 
————————
When it came to planning the funeral, you had to go out to your family’s cottage to help. You said you could go alone, but frankly, good luck telling Nesta and the Valkyries to stay behind when one of their own is in pain. 
So when you saddled up to your family with three warriors behind you, they were scared a bit to say the least. 
Emerie held your hand during the funeral discussion as Nesta watched the director to make sure she wasn’t insensitive to you. Gwyn stood guard behind you. They were protectors, they were not gonna leave one of their girls to deal with this alone.
Eventually, the funeral was planned. The rest of your chosen family came out and surprised you. You sent a notice to them of when the funeral was and told them they didn’t need to come because you knew how busy they were. 
When they showed up on your family’s doorstep to surprise you, you started crying again. 
——-
The day of the funeral, it was the entire inner circle crammed into the living room of the cottage of your mortal family’s living space.  
You felt bad cramming two males with wings into that small space, especially with so many other people. But Cassian and Azriel assured you that there’s nowhere else they would be. 
You slept sharing a flimsy mattress with Elain, since the other two sisters were with their mates. But Feyre and Rhys slept close. So did Nesta and Cassian. Both women facing your general direction. 
Azriel did not sleep. He wanted to be there in case you woke up in tears again. 
Amren slept sitting up against a wall, she wouldn’t admit it but she wanted an eye on you. She only trusted hers. 
Mor was curled on the other side of you. You were sandwiched between her and Elain. 
Emerie and Gwyn slept down by your guys’ legs. Emerie’s head on Mor’s thigh. Gwyn hugging Elain legs in her sleep. 
Azriel chose not to mention what happened when your dad came downstairs in the middle of the night to check on you. 
It was as if he wasn’t sure if you’d really be there. He just lost one daughter, he didn’t want to lose another. 
He nodded at Azriel who nodded back. Assuring him that you weren’t going anywhere. That you always had people watching out for you.  
As everyone got ready, it was a somber moment. Elain did your hair, Mor did your makeup, Amren set out your jewelry and Feyre handled your clothes. They didn’t want you doing anything. 
Nesta, Gwyn and Emerie let your nephew and niece play with their swords. It was the one thing they seemed interested in so they let them do it. 
Rhysand was currently trying to get your dad to accept a check from him and Feyre to pay for everything plus anything else your parents need during this time. Your father was refusing. Rhys spoke bluntly. “Your daughter is my family, please let me take care of her family.” 
Your dad didn’t. But Rhys hid the check in your dads night table. He felt yucky going into their room but did it to make sure they got the check. 
On the way to the funeral, Azriel had offered his arm for you to take, which you gratefully did. Rhysand got the door for you. Az led you in. The overprotective bat boys acted like your body guards, which you appreciated, however you couldn’t help but giggle a little bit at it. 
Nesta told you before the funeral to let her know if you wanted her to intervene to keep some relatives away. 
One of your (racist) aunts kept telling you how you’re responsible for your sister's kids. Then when she saw Azriel, Cassian, Rhysand, Amren and Emerie, she just stared. Before you could intervene, Elain and Gwyn stood in front of them. 
You almost wacked her so hard it was going to be a double funeral. You had prepared them before that some relatives were racist. They didn’t give a rat's ass. 
Oh and then everyone in your party including you were Fae. That also did not help. 
Hence why you lived in Velaris, away from all the bigotry.
During the service, Feyre sat on one side of you, Amren on the other side. Feyre clutched your hand and Amren even held out her hand for you. She always had a soft spot for you. Mor’s makeup didn’t last long throughout the service which is why she did bare minimum on your face. 
Afterwards, you left pretty soon after the service was done. You just had to leave the building. You guys went to a pub in your funeral attire. Azriel sat next to you and Nesta on the other side. Rhys refused to let you pay. But you knew he was trying to get you riled up. It was working. 
He was incredibly happy to see the fire return to your eyes. 
At that moment, with your family, you knew you were going to be okay. 
Just have to take every day one step at a time.
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The finale finally gave us a clue on how Adam feels about sinners.
Specifically, that he feels they are ungrateful losers.
We already knew he was dismissive of sinners despite them all technically being his descendants, but of course I’m really interested that he specifically called them ‘ungrateful losers.’
Because that introduces a brand new layer to why he’s so merciless towards sinners. Why he delights in killing them.
He’s punishing them.
Sinners are his progeny. They came from him. He STARTED humanity. He makes it clear that he is very proud of being the father of humanity.
And he got into heaven but the majority of mankind didn’t.
And he canonically was the first human soul in heaven.
Can you imagine him, arriving in heaven? None of the angels know why he’s there. Adam has no idea how he got there. And so he rationalized that he got there simply by being Adam. He started humanity. He’s awesome. So he deserved heaven.
He’s so amazing he was made into an Angel. Not just a regular soul. AN ANGEL.
So imagine how shocked he must have been when not all of his descendants made it to heaven. That some of them were sent to the realm of his worst enemy. The one who introduced suffering to his people.
Can you imagine how angry he must have been to see so many of his descendants going to Hell they were having an OVERPOPULATION problem!
How could they not make it to heaven when Adam himself made it by just being Adam? Why did they go to hell? Just being a descendant of Adam should have been a free ticket in so what happened?
They fucked up is what happened. They fucked up so badly that just the privilege of being descended from Adam, THE FIRST MAN, wasn’t enough to get them in.
Can you imagine how mad that would make him? He set up everything perfectly but his people fucked up enough to be sent to hell. They wasted the chance Adam gave them. They showed that just being from him wasn’t enough.
They were ungrateful for the chance he gave them.
And so he wants them gone. They failed to live up to his name. They failed to reach Heaven and so they don’t matter. Their souls don’t matter. Their regrets don’t matter. Their lives don’t matter. They are no longer Adam’s people. They’re losers, so why should he care about them?
In the end, Adam is basically an angry parent, punishing his ungrateful children for failing to live up to his expectations.
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Steve managed to accidentally crush his headphones over the weekend, so he reluctantly turned to Billy Hargrove for help.
Steve and Billy hadn’t exactly gotten off to the best of starts, considering they beat the crap out of each other within the week. Billy has mellowed out significantly since Neil had left though, so Steve told himself to grow some balls and walked into the general repair shop Billy worked at.
The death metal blasting from the speakers was obnoxious but there was basically nobody there so Steve was able to swallow down the rising panic creeping up his throat. Billy was just some guy. He’d move back to California come the new year and Steve’s life would be exactly the same as it had always been. At least that’s what he told himself.
Billy raised an unimpressed eyebrow at Steve tripping over the step on his way up then stammering his way through an apology. His headphones lay sadly tucked under arm, limp and lifeless.
Actually getting the word autism out was harder than Steve anticipated. Maybe it was because he wasn’t used to telling other people or maybe it was because he found Billy very attractive and he knew what happened whenever anyone he liked found out.
The curl of the lip. The sneer. The asking if he was like mentally five or something.
He managed to stumble his way through explaining that they were his sensory aides and they really helped him not get overwhelmed in public and please don’t punch me again Hargrove.
Billy didn’t punch him, much to Steve’s great surprise. Instead he mumbled something about be right back Harrington and disappeared into the staff only area, only to return with a brand new pair which he thrust into Steve’s hands.
“I get it Harrington. Just take these, you busted yours pretty badly. On the house.”
Steve was pretty sure his brain malfunctioned briefly and then attempted to exit the shop after pushing on a pull door.
Billy had been pretty civil with him. So either it was all some great prank that was about to fall on his head or Steve may have misjudged him just a little.
He didn’t risk reaching out again until a month later when he’d really managed to fuck his oven up and gave himself a five minute mantra about being confident before dming Billy on Instagram asking for help.
A message came back in a minute asking what the fuck he’d managed to do. Steve insisted he had no idea then he just got a short, blunt “on my way princess.”
Billy’s tool box was extensive. As much as Steve would have wished, that wasn’t an innuendo. He just had a lot of kit, probably more than was needed for the actual state of the oven.
They hung out a bit while Billy tinkered, threw out jargon that Steve didn’t understand, then declared it was fixed. Steve resolutely tried not to stare at a peach ass in very tight denim. He may have failed.
A comfortable silence fell afterwards until Steve panicked and asked if he wanted a coffee. It only seemed polite. Billy had been working all afternoon pretty much.
How that ended in them snuggled onto the sofa, Steve couldn’t exactly remember. All he could really register was that Billy’s arms were warm and strong and Steve wished he could just stay there.
Then he snuggled in further and Billy stiffened up. Crap. He’d fucked up somehow.
Steve pulled himself back up into a sitting position, self consciously checking his hair. Billy looked slightly bewildered but more at himself than Steve.
“You…………you alright man? I didn’t push you too far right?”
He got a slow blink in response and being pulled back into a muscular chest. Steve just hoped he wasn’t doing his “simp face”, as Robin had named it.
“Steve”
Ok first name was not a good sign. Prepare for a fist.
“I fucking like you ok? Don’t laugh. I’ve liked you ever since I first set eyes on you, you beautiful oblivious bastard.”
And Steve. Steve had always kind of hated romcoms. They were dumb and clishe and the couples who got together by the end never really made sense.
But looking at Billy’s slightly flushed face and after hearing his confession, Steve thought the romcom route might be the best way to go.
Billy really was a very good kisser.
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teenidlegirl · 2 months
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꣑୧ ݁.﹒𝓜𝐄𝐄𝐓 𝓜𝐄 𝓗𝐀𝐋𝐅𝐖𝐀𝐘 .ᐟ
𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐞𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 ┆ 𝐟𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐩𝐮𝐩𝐩𝐢𝐞𝐬
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ઇ ˚ ݂ ֹ ꒰ miguel o’hara 𝓍 fem!civilian!reader ꒱ ! ۟ ׅ ♡
˒ ♡ ៸៸𓂃  𝒔𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚  ˖  ׁ ⁩ .ᐟ  that rainy night still infiltrates your mind. as you’re about to leave for the day, spider-man stops by your place with a gift. he begs you to allow him to pay you back for helping him. you offer an idea: dog-sit daisy.
˒ ♡ ៸៸𓂃  𝒄𝒐𝒏𝒕𝒆𝒏𝒕  ˖  ׁ ⁩ .ᐟ  pure fluff, goofiness, swearing, pet names, spanish terms, slightly suggestive, mild wet dreams (sorta?), softie!miguel, wholesome (my favorite chapter)
꒰ previous chapter ꒱ ⋅ ꒰ masterlist ꒱ ⋅ ꒰ next chapter ꒱
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last night has been infiltrating your mind. it was even in your dreams, repeating that exact same scenario. although, it had various interesting endings. instead of miguel leaving and jessica calling him, you two would be making out on the couch after all of that staring contest. lips collided and hands roaming each other’s bodies, soft moans and groans mingling in the air. his big hands roaming and groping your curves while his mouth devours yours. one thing leads to another, you ending up laid back on the couch with him above you as the steamy makeout session continues on. his lips would leave yours, finding a new place on your neck. you’d have one hand digging into his chocolate brown locks as soft sighs escapes your lips at the sensation on your neck. just as one of his hand travels up your body, almost reaching for your chest, your alarm went off.
goddamnit — stupid alarm ruining the climatic part of a dream, when it was getting good. starting off the day with a pissy attitude wasn’t on your to-do list.
realization kicks in as you quickly sat up with wide eyes like a deer in headlights. did you just have a wet dream about miguel? motherfucking spider-man? oh nah man. ain’t no way you dreamt of making out with that dude. don’t be mistaken, the man is handsome and definitely your type but having a wet dream about him? what the fuck. you barely know the guy! well — you know some portions of his life but you aren’t exactly a thing. simply just friends or something like that, nothing more obviously.
maybe you’re just that horny and haven’t been with a man since your ex two years ago. either way, it was kinda weird but also alluring at the same time. of course you’ll never tell a soul, not even daisy. how embarrassing would that be, right?
snapping out of those dumbass thoughts, you get out of bed and start getting ready for the day. you’re supposedly have to drop off some shenanigans at your brother’s place that he forgot when he stayed at your place after his harsh breakup with his hoe of an ex-girlfriend several months ago. after picking out an outfit and getting dressed, you head to the kitchen to make breakfast. you settled on a basic bowl of cereal of your favorite brand. you watch tv while munching on your cereal, daisy sitting beside you snuggled against your thigh. after finishing your cereal, you place the dish in the sink and head to the bathroom to brush your teeth and do your makeup. as the big music lover you are, you do those two tasks while listening to music. once you did both tasks, you walk back into the living room where the box of your brother’s shenanigans are on the dining table.
while checking to make sure all of his stuff were in the box, a light tapping sound came from the balcony. you look up to see your lovely dovely spiderman standing there. you give him a nod, a sign of approval to allow him entry to your home. with your permission, miguel steps foot inside your apartment. before either of you could greet each other, daisy beats you to it. her tail waggles as she walks up to him, sniffing at his feet as a sign of ‘hello.’ the tall brunette stares down at the fluffy little thing, amused by her sudden liking towards him.
“she really does like you. you’re her favorite person.” you smile at the sight before turning back to inspect the box once again, double checking.
“i think that title belongs to you.” miguel carefully steps past the dog to avoid accidentally stepping on her. as he approaches you, his brows furrowed in curiosity at what you’re doing.
you huffed, a small smile gracing your lips. “nah you’re definitely her new favorite person.” you don’t meet his gaze since you’re too occupied with the box of your brother’s stuff.
he tilts his head to the side, watching you fiddle with the box. “what’s that for?” curiosity in his tone.
“just some of my brother’s shenanigans that he left here. i’m supposed to head over to his place to drop it off.” after confirming everything was inside, you finally turned and meet his gaze. “what’s up?”
for a moment, miguel hesitates to answer, only standing there in silence as he averts from your gaze. you look at him a bit confused, noticing his body language. one hand is fisted into a ball, repeatedly opening and closing. the other hand is hidden behind his back, a little suspicious. what is he holding? before you could say something, he holds up a white tulip in front of you like a shy schoolboy asking his crush on a date. hints of blush on his cheeks. you stare confusingly at the beautiful tulip then at him.
“some old man was selling them so… i figured to get you one…” his eyes remained glued to the floor, feeling too flustered and embarrassed to meet your gaze. god he’s never felt so embarrassed just by a simple kind gesture. this is bombing his ego.
your heart melts at his kind gesture. this is the sweetest thing someone has ever done for you. how cute he looks so shy and flustered. tenderly taking the tulip from his grasp, you give it a light sniff. you adore the smell of fresh flowers. “thanks. it’s kinda ironic since tulips are my favorite.” you walk over to the kitchen and open one of the cabinets to find a vase, luckily you did. you place the beautiful flower inside. you’ll put in your room later.
“i know.” he said sheepishly, finally looking up from the ground with a neutral expression.
you look back at him confusingly, brows furrowed. “how? i never told you before…” pausing for a moment, you think of how he could’ve had known. your eyes widen in realization. “you sneaky son of a bitch, you were eavesdropping.” you glare at him.
miguel scoffs and rolls his eyes, folding his arms over his broad chest. “i wasn’t. i was checking the monitors and happened to come across your conversation in the cafeteria with the others.”
you shoot him a dumbfounded look. “god you’re never beating those stalker allegations.” a sneaky smile crept up on your lips as you walk about to the table and close up the box of shenanigans. you can sense his glaring eyes, making you smile more.
since you don’t hear him leaving, you look back at him with hands on your hips. “what?” it was clear he wanted to say something, so you’re going to make him say it. however, you’re met with silence.
miguel just stands there awkwardly, head lowered to avoid your eyes. his clenched fists repeatedly opened and closed, a sigh of anxiousness. that made you frown confusingly but also concerned. normally you would repeat the question but you were patient, allowing him to figure out his words without feeling pressured. even though miguel isn’t looking at you, you hope he feels your soft gaze instead of your sassy, intimidating one like usual.
“is there… anything else you want?” he finally speaks, barely above a whisper as if he’s afraid to ask. his gaze never left the floor, concealing his flushed face.
your brows raise in surprise, pondering the question. “no, i’m fine. the tulip was nice.” you say softly.
miguel finally looks at you, a displeased look on his face. “no, seriously. is there anything else? the tulip isn’t enough for how you helped me.”
your brows furrowed in confusion, shaking your head. “no it’s okay, miguel. really. i appreciate the flower, you don’t need to get me anything else.”
he waves off with his hand, shaking his head in disapproval. “no, [y/n]. just tell me, please.” he sounds desperate which stuns you.
“you’re not going soft on me, are you, miguelito?” a teasing smirk on your glossy lips.
he blushes at the nickname, all flustered and riled up. “just answer the damn question.” he said in his usual intimidating tone to conceal his flustered face but ultimately fails, which you find it hilarious and cute.
you snort, earning a groan from miguel. honestly, you don’t even know what to think of. the tulip was a perfect gift. what else could you possibly want? you’ve been dying to buy new clothes but you’re not gonna ask him that. you can do that on your own time, whenever the you get the chance since work has been a pain lately. how blank your mind is, no possibilities can into mind. then, an imaginary light bulb appears on your head as an idea pops up. the corner of your lips curl up into a mischievous smile like the grinch. miguel noticed and he’s a bit nervous, that smile never comes off as a good thing.
“you…“ you point at him, that mischievous smile still intact. “have to dog-sit.” you then point at daisy, who’s laying on the couch.
miguel stares completely dumbfounded at you. “dog-sit? are you kidding?”
“you said anything so, you have to dog-sit daisy while i’m gone.” you say happily, folding your arms over your chest. a sense of pride lingering in you.
dog-sit? you want him to watch your dog? oh lord he can’t believe that was your choice out of everything. and you’re right, he said anything and he desperately wants to pay you back correctly. dog-sitting it is.
you sense his apprehension, making that mischievous smile into a soft one. “you’ll be fine. she has everything she needs, food, water and toys. oh she’s a fast eater so if you need more dogfood, bottom left cabinet. water is just in the fridge. the only thing you need to worry about is taking her to the bathroom. other than that, you’re fine.”
he took mental note of all the given information. well, if you say it’s easy, then it shouldn’t be hard then. miguel isn’t the greatest with pets, especially little dogs but daisy seems to like him. yeah it wouldn’t be hard. just watch the dog until you return.
“questions, comments, concerns?” you asked, hands placed on your hips in that iconic sassy posture.
he ponders for a moment. “no, i don’t think so.”
you quickly nod. “sweet. anyways, i gotta head out or else my brother is gonna kill me.” you walk back into your room to grab a cardigan then walk back to the living room. “you’ll be fine, she doesn’t need much.” you said as you put on your shoes then walk over to the table and grab the box but miguel beats you to it.
“hey i got it.” you pout, trying to snatch it from him but he moves it away from your attempt.
“i’ll carry it to your car.” miguel states flatly.
“it’s not even heavy.” you argue, reaching for it a second time but he moves it away again but instead higher in the air so you don’t reach it. not that you can anyways because you’re short and he’s so tall.
“miguel.” you whine with a pout. curse his tallness, it’s not your fault he’s so freakishly tall.
he finds it utterly amusing how your little hands can’t reach the box, even on your tippy toes. a sense of pride flowing through him, prideful of his height. but what miguel finds most entertaining is your pouting expression. your height doesn’t help you, making you look like a helpless bunny. how cute, he thought.
“let’s go.” miguel stated as he walks past you, heading for the front door.
you sigh out of frustration, knowing you weren’t gonna win this battle. accepting defeat, you grab daisy from the couch and follow miguel. after closing the door, the three of you use the elevator and head downstairs to your car outside. once you reached your car and unlocked it, miguel placed the box in the passenger seat then closed the door.
“thank you even though i told you no.” you watch him rolls his eyes at you. “here, it’s like a trade.” you hand daisy to him so abruptly, which catches him off guard but he takes the dog in his hands swiftly. you can’t get over how tiny she looks in his hands. it’s just so amusing yet adorable. they’re gonna have a blast.
“bye mamas.” you pet her head lovingly, making her lean into your touch while licking your hand.
miguel just stares awkwardly at the interaction since it’s happening literally in front of him. although, he finds it cute how much adoration you have for your dog. a pleasant sight to his eyes, and heart.
you look up at miguel, craning your neck all the way up since he’s so damn taller than you. “be nice to her. if i find her crying when i get back, te mato.” you shoot him a light glare, truly meaning your words.
he scoffs and rolls his eyes. “whatever, demonio.”
flashing a smirk as a goodbye, you turn around and got in the car. as you start driving away, daisy starts whining. miguel glances at the dog, rolling his eyes.
“ya cálmate, she’ll be back.” he tries being gentle but there is still irritation in his tone. those ruby eyes follows your car until you’re no longer in sight. with daisy wiggling in his arms, miguel walks back inside your apartment building.
the dog-sitting commences.
     ━━━━━━━━ ִ  ۫   ꒰ ♡ ꒱  ۫   ݂ ━━━━━━━━
with literally nothing to do other than watch your dog, miguel awkwardly sits on the couch. daisy is eating the dogfood from her bowl in the kitchen. there is a tv but he doesn’t watch television that often. being spider-man and the leader of the spider society means barely any time to himself. he’s just a natural workaholic and dog-sitting isn’t something he’d ever do. nothing against your dog, like mentioned before, daisy likes him but just feels weird to be doing nothing other than watch her. you do have a bookshelf, filled with tons of books. that doesn’t surprised him. if miguel had more time to himself or wasn’t the leader of a group, perhaps he would’ve taken a hobby in reading. since he is a big scientist, it requires lots of reading and miguel was fond of that. but assuming it’s you, that bookshelf is probably filled with romance novels. little does he know it’s actually mostly murder and mystery.
while sitting there awkwardly and fiddling with his hands, daisy walks over to him with her tail wagging. there is a strange look in her eyes; she’s giving him the big doe eyes. shit — she has to go to the bathroom. lifting up from the couch with a groan, miguel scoops up the dog in one hand and exits your apartment to head outside. luckily he brought a change of clothes so no one would catch spider-man randomly walking a dog in public. how awkward and embarrassing that would be?
that title ‘friendly neighborhood spider-man’ would definitely live up its name. however, miguel isn’t friendly. ‘grumpy spider-man’ is more like it.
as daisy does her business, miguel stands there awkwardly waiting. those muscly arms folded over his broad chest, flexing in the process. that white shirt he’s wearing acts more like a compression shirt, heavily outlining his muscles. the gray sweatpants hanging a bit too low, showing off his tiny sluty waist and a tiny sneak peek of his happy trail. while waiting, a few giggles from the distance captures his attention. turning his head in that exact direction, miguel finds two women babbling and drooling over him, batting their lashes at him. he tries to not roll his eyes. sure, he knows he is attractive but something about those two women just annoys him. they seem ignorant and desperate for attention. they’re not like you, you are the opposite of them. you don’t beg for attention. hell you don’t even throw yourself at him. you mostly insult and tease him all the time.
wait — why the hell is he thinking about you?
luckily, daisy finished and walks back to him, her tail waggling happily. snapping out of those weird thoughts, miguel scoops her up again and heads back inside the building. the two women wave at him as an attempt to call him over but miguel ignores them, leaving them devastated.
30 minutes has past and you’re still gone. you never mentioned how long you were gonna be gone but supposedly your brother lives far away or too busy with the stuff. sitting back on the couch, miguel fiddles with his gizmo to make sure the multiverse and everything at HQ was intact. lyla would contact him if so. while checking his gizmo, daisy walks up to him with a green toy ball in her mouth.
miguel looks dumbfounded at the fluffy thing. “no.” she keeps looking up at him with those doe eyes and tail wagging. “no.” he said flatly but it’s no use because she drops the ball at his feet and waits.
“ay dios mio…” he rubs the temples of his forehead with a hand, sighing. miguel bends over and grabs the ball. he gives it a experimental squeeze, a high pitched noise coming from it which excites daisy. the corner of his lips twitch slightly upward at the sight. miguel throws the ball across the living room, landing in front of the tv. daisy chases after it.
the doorknob rattles which makes daisy bark. miguel looks in that direction, watching you enter the apartment. the golden doodle rushes over to you, barking happily at you. she always get excited when you come home. you adore it every time.
“hi mamas! i missed you!” you crouch down and pick her up, carrying her in your arms. you nuzzle your face into her fluffy fur as she attacks your face with adoring licks. you avoid getting licked in the mouth by moving your head around.
closing and locking the door, your eyes land on the tall brunette sitting on the couch. “oh yeah, you.” sarcasm at its peak which earned you a glare from him. “thanks for watching her.”
“well, you were right. it was easy.” miguel lifts up from the couch and approaches you before stopping and stand a few feet from you, folding his arms.
you quickly glance at his outfit, noticing he’s not wearing his usual red and blue suit but instead casual clothes. “where the hell did you get a change of clothes?” you don’t own any men clothes, not since you threw out your ex’s clothes after the breakup.
“i uh brought them from my place. didn’t want people catching me in my suit while walking your dog.” he elaborated.
“huh… smart. anyways, you can go now. they probably need you back at HQ.” you walk to the kitchen and open the fridge to search for dinner options, still carrying daisy in one arm.
miguel just stands there, observing you. it’s true, the society needs him back. he needs to go back, resume his duty as the leader of the spider society and protector of the multiverse. however, he isn’t in the rush to do so. or more precisely, he doesn’t want to leave, not just yet. much to his surprise, miguel actually enjoyed staying in your home. today was one of the first days he wasn’t spider-man, wasn’t at HQ. he was just a human being, just miguel.
“i will but jessica has it under control. i’ll be notified if anything happens.” it’s true he placed jessica in charge while he’s gone. the minute his gizmo beeps with a notification regarding the multiverse, he’ll bolt the fuck out. but since there isn’t any, miguel has no reason to leave just yet.
you hum in surprise, still searching for something to make for dinner. nothing comes to mind. take-out it is then. when he mentioned HQ, you thought about your spidey friends. you miss them terribly, especially hobie. god you miss that brit and his charming voice. you should really take on that offer of spending time with him in his universe. hopefully one day.
“hey, do you mind i visit HQ again? i miss my spider peeps.” you turn around, looking at him while petting daisy’s head with a loving touch.
miguel had to resist the urge to smile at your response. he would love for you to visit again, visit him. “fine but i’ll give you a watch so you can get there faster instead of driving.”
your eyes lit up in excitement. “oooo like the fancy one you have?” you point at his watch.
he nods. “yes.”
“killer.” you offer a gentle smile.
you two are definitely friends at this point, whether miguel likes to admit it or not. but honestly, you’re more than just friends. it’s unclear but there is definite chemistry between you two.
spider-man and his pretty little friend.
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ᡣ𐭩ㅤㅤ ݁. 𝓣𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓  ˖ ࣪ ༘  @loser-alert @keepitreal001 @iamperson12280 @nostalgicdaira @flordelalunas @oharasfilipinawife @cho-coquette @lavenderslemonade @palesatan @awkward-d3rs3-dr3amer @lilscast @beanieboy23 @dorck26 @kakabskbskdnd @4crew @deputy-videogamer @36namey @sin4tra @holographicang3l @migueloharasoulmate @darlingz99 @opalesquegirl @freehentai @rinverse @colorfulbluebirdpainter @razertail18
© teenidlegirl. don’t steal, plagiarize, or translate my work. ♡
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divineecelestial · 2 years
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Too Good To Be True | Steven Grant x F!Reader
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| Gif — @raggedy-dxctor |
Word Count — 6k
Summary — Steven Grant has a crush on an event coordinator at the museum who is too pretty. With no place to stay for the night, he invites her to spend the night at his place.
Warnings — Graphic depictions of s*x, mast*rbation, virgin!Steven, sub!Steven, slight dom!reader, female!reader, unprotected s*x, oral (female and male receiving). Let me know if I missed anything!
18+ Only! Minors DNI
A/N — Steven is basically the biggest simp for you in this lmao
With a dazed glossiness within the dark eyes of Steven Grant, he absentmindedly listened to the blurred words falling from your rosy lips. His chin was pressed against the palm of his hand, his elbow propped on the counter as you discussed the timetable of the gala occurring in less than two weeks. Your hand was clutched on the plastic clipboard, intently scribbling your erratic thoughts and circling possible concerns with a black pen. The employees of the museum orbited around you as you assigned everyone to temporary positions. With each name announced, you wrote a small check beside the inscriptions. Truth be told, Steven wasn’t entirely certain what the purpose of the gala was. He remembered you mentioning the theme—Egyptian Moonlight—and his brain mushed together as he heard the softness of your voice. He presumed the purpose was to raise money for another exhibit he overheard Donna stressing over. 
“Steven Grant,” His name danced across your tongue like golden honey and the sound warmed through him. Your soft eyes moved from the clipboard and found his dazzled gaze. He was distracted with the sheen of your hair and didn’t notice you were patiently waiting for a response. You paused for a moment and raised an eyebrow as he didn’t acknowledge the inquisitive glance. Someone beside him nudged him and he snapped from his daydream. He straightened and glanced around him. His tan cheeks flushed as he realized everyone was expecting a response. Returning his frantic gaze to you, he warily smiled. The embarrassment burned through him like a wildfire. Your eyes remained on him for a brief moment, your lips curving into an amused smile. “Steven Grant,” You repeated, “Tour guide.” He blinked and an overwhelming thrill-filled him as the title ‘Tour Guide’ processed through his head.
You continued onward with your presentation and the small smile reserved for him seared through him. Sure, there was a portion of him completely mortified from being caught with a lovestruck expression, but you didn’t scrunch your nose with glaringly obvious aversion. You moved through the swarm of employees and concluded the presentation with an enthusiastic expression. 
The swarm dispersed and their indistinct conversations disappeared. The moonlight from the night sky poured into the panels of windows. He hadn’t known this much time had disappeared during your presentation. Your voice reverberated through the vast museum marble walls as you spoke with some of the museum's official representatives. You were an illustrious event coordinator and he, admittedly, searched your name on his computer months prior when you were planning the grand opening of an exhibit. He scrolled through the online collections of your other exhibitions and festivals. There were a large variety of themes, some were sultry and oozed with sensual darkness and there were some illuminated with bright colors and flashing lights. Regardless of the theme or requirements, you designed venues perfectly. He always stared at the photographs with you in them, smiling brightly standing beside politicians and celebrities with extravagant gowns. Ever since then, you were recruited by the museum repeatedly and each gala was better than the previous one. 
Steven gathered his belongings and his thoughts wandered to meaningless things like if he should purchase Gus another brand of fish food and if he was going to take the bus on time because there was construction happening a few blocks away from his apartment. He was so emersed in his thoughts he hadn’t noticed you emerge from around the corner. A gasp escaped your lips as he collided roughly with you and your collection of messily stacked papers slipped from your grasp and onto the floor, your lukewarm coffee spilling onto your clothes. 
Steven was overridden with remorse as your exhausted expression drooped as you glanced at the dark brown stains seeping through the fabric. Your eyes closed as you exhaled a small and frustrated breath. A string of apologies fell from his mouth as he dropped to the floor, reaching for the scattered papers. You mimicked him and released a feeble curse as your forehead smacked against his. Steven’s cheeks burned as he reached for your forehead before quickly retracting his arm. “Shit, I am so sorry!” His voice was shaky as he muttered another string of incoherent apologies. 
Your eyes fluttered open and you couldn’t refrain from chuckling airily as your hand brushed against the skin beside your hairline. His face loomed across from you, his eyebrows furrowing with concern as his gaze flickered across your kneeling form. He was going to apologize for the twentieth time when you positioned your delicate hand on his that was gathering the papers. “Don’t worry, it’s my fault.” You reassured with an embarrassed smile. He froze when the warmth of your hand shrouded his much larger one. “I wasn’t paying attention.” Much to his dismay, you pulled your hand away and began restacking the papers. He snapped from his daze and began doing the same, occasionally sneaking a glance at the concepts you constructed. Unsurprisingly, they were exceptionally drawn. 
With the color-coordinated papers messily stacked, he pushed himself from the floor and brushed his hands on his thighs before extending his hand outward. His breathing hitched as you peered upward at him through the thick rim of your eyelashes, your eyes glittering from the romantic lighting of the exhibition. Your knees were pressed against the marble floor, his crotch mere inches away from the softness of your lips and his knees nearly buckled at the spectacle. 
You interlaced your fingers with him, groaning as you straightened and wiped the palms of your hands on your sheer leggings. “No, it was my fault! I’m a knob and wasn’t paying attention—” The fusion of your florid fragrance and the syrupy coffee filled his nose as you dismissed his frantic concerns with a wave of your hand. 
You brushed the loose strands of hair away from your face. “Steven, it’s fine.” You pulled your phone from your pocket. “I was pissed because my roommate is having someone over and asked me to give them the night. So I was looking for a hotel around here and didn’t even see where I was going.” Your frustration seeped into your words as you spoke, the weariness oozed from you as you pinched the bridge of your nose. “I’m sorry. I’m ranting, aren’t I?” 
Steven shook his head and clutched the strap of his bag until his knuckles blanched. “No worries, I don’t mind.” His eyebrows scrunched together with uncertainty. “You know my name?” He glanced down at the breast pocket of his jacket, confirming the nametag wasn’t there. He thought you didn’t acknowledge anything other than your clipboard as you strolled through the corridors of the museum, triple-checking everything was adequate for the gala. Steven was one of the several people awe-struck every time you stepped inside the same room as him. 
You chuckled as you shoved the stack of papers inside your large bag. “Of course, I know your name.” You spoke as if the suggestion of you not knowing his name was ridiculous. “You were one of the first people I met when I was recruited by the museum.” 
No, that couldn’t have been accurate. He would’ve remembered the interaction because if there was a time when you spoke with him and him only he would have seared the interaction deep inside his memories. He scratched the nape of his neck. “I’m afraid I don’t remember that.” 
“Well, I’m not surprised,” You said, readjusting your bag’s strap. “You were far too invested in guiding a group throughout the museum. I joined the group and I don’t think I’ve ever learned that much Egyptian mythology from an actual tour guide here.” You continued onward, motioning for him to follow beside you. “You were my first choice to be the banquet’s tour guide.” 
He attempted to disregard how the assertive statement made his stomach flutter. As you both neared the exit of the museum, you muttered some farewells to a few of the staff members. The light breeze of the night chilled you as you descended the large stairs. “Steven, do you know of any decent hotels around the area?” You had briefly searched on your phone, but they were all rated extremely low.
He glanced around the desolate streets. “I know some, but they’re a bit rubbish, honestly.” 
Ask her, Steven. Invite her over.
“You could save some money and spend the night at my place. It’s not too far from here and I won’t charge you.” He suggested apprehensively as he fiddled with the strap of his bag. He glanced around, intentionally avoiding your inquisitive gaze. You raised an eyebrow and chuckled at his awkwardness. “I really hope that wasn’t as creepy as I thought it sounded.” He added after a moment.
He followed you as you continued your stroll. “Most blokes invite me to dinner first.”
His eyes widened with mortification. “N-No, that’s not what I meant!” He hadn’t even noticed your teasing tone and lighthearted expression as he shook his head frantically. This was exactly why he typically ignored Marc's suggestions and ideas. “You would sleep on the bed, of course! I’d take the floor and I would never—“
You squeezed his shoulder and giggled. “Steven, I’m teasing you,” You reassured with a lovely smile. “I’d actually greatly appreciate that. I can drive us to your place?”
He nodded, his cheeks blushing. “Lead the way.”
Steven fumbled for his apartment’s keys as you stood beside him, glancing around the rickety corridor. Muffled voices were seeping from the closed doors of the other tenants, music echoed from the streets below and the hinges of the elevator squeaked the double doors eventually closed. He unlocked the door and stepped aside, allowing you a wide entrance inside. The floorboards creaked as you casually walked inside and your doe-eyes eyes glanced at the cluttered mess with subtle allure. He noticed your wandering eyes and scratched the nape of his neck. “If I had known I was going to have company, I would’ve cleaned.” He said nervously. As you continued onward, you glimpsed over the disarray of his disordered books. Most, if not all, were about Egyptian mythology and the pages were folded and the spines were cracked. 
You peered over your shoulder and smiled as he attempted to organize some of the piles of papers and opened books. “No worries, my place isn’t any better.” You admitted, your eyes moving across the passages of the large textbooks. The paragraphs were underlined and highlighted, some were circled and crossed out with a thin line. His erratic movements across the room stopped, his hand carrying a white trash bag as he tossed his takeout from the night before. “My kitchen is covered with color theory and different fabrics for the table covers. It’s much worse than this, believe me.” 
Your lighthearted words reassured him, easing the tenseness of his shoulders as collected the last of his trash. He nodded even though he knew you couldn’t see him as you ventured further inside his apartment. “I can’t make coffee very well, but I can make you some tea?” He was already fumbling through his cabinet of unorganized boxes of tea, some of the packets strewn around. The stovetop clicked and the blue flames flickered as he brought a silver kettle from the washed pile of dishes. 
You closed the book you were scanning and dawdled across the room. “That would be lovely,” The warmth of the flames gradually filled the kitchen. “Steven, do you mind if I borrow some clothes?” The question crashed through him like an icy wave. He whirled around and his nervous eyes glanced at the stained apparel. He didn’t remember you were soaked with chilly coffee, his thoughts were ransacked with the warmth of your skin as you stood beside him within the confines of the unstable elevator. He wasn’t entirely processing that you were standing between the fading walls of his cluttered apartment. This was something he thought of, an unrealistic daydream as he fiddled with a multi-colored Rubix cube at night. But here you were, staring at him with an unsure softness and leaning against his countertop. 
“Of course!” He stumbled as he scampered across and pulled his dresser open, unfolding a freshly washed t-shirt. The fabric was much larger than your frame, but he didn’t think the size difference mattered much. “Can’t have you sleeping in your dirty clothes.” He yanked open another drawer and pulled out a soft pair of loose sweatpants. He closed both drawers and the kettle released a faint whistle. “In that incredibly tight dress.” He muttered to himself. Your dress was tight, a black turtleneck dress where the fabric ended mid-thigh and your sheer pantyhose exposed the smoothness of your legs. “I can make the tea and you can take a shower if you’d like? There are spare towels inside.” 
Blatant relief colored your expression as he mentioned the shower. “I’ll be quick,” You declared and rushed to the opened door across the apartment. The door closed and he closed his eyes as he placed his blanched palms on the edge of the counter. You were inside his bathroom, undressing and allowing the warm water to splash against your bare skin, the fragrance of his soap was going to linger on your skin and within the strands of your wet hair. The hazed image of you scrubbing your breasts and the length of your legs with the suds of his soap were enough to have him struggling to regulate his hitched breathing. His jeans tightened as he continued to think of you touching the peaks of your breasts, your small fingers moving within the tightness between your thighs. 
Come on, Steven. She’s in there. Naked.
Steven closed his eyes tighter as Marc’s voice echoed through his frantic mind. He was convinced Marc appeared from the darkness of his head with the sole purpose to make him keep his composure around you practically impossible. Every time you stepped inside the museum, he emerged from the shadows and highlighted the tightness of your clothes, the way your breasts bounced as you rushed throughout the corridors, and your glittering eyes as you smiled when speaking with the museum officials. You had dropped your pen once and Marc, though Steven would never admit it, he also stared as you leaned forward and grabbed the pen from the floor, your panties peeking from beneath your skirt. Steven couldn’t move from behind the counter for a few minutes as Marc continuously remarked about ripping the thin fabric—
If you’re not gonna make a move, might as well rub one out before she comes out. 
He shuddered as his thoughts brimmed with you and his cock hardened beneath his uncomfortable jeans. He brought his palm onto the throbbing bulge, a small whimper falling from his mouth as he pressed down. There was a pulse of dull pleasure as he rubbed himself over his clothes, drawing his lower lip between his teeth to muffle the threatening sounds. Steven mulled over the suggestion, wondering if you were going to open the bathroom door and see him frantically jerking himself over risque thoughts of you. 
With a wavering breath, he fumbled for his buckle and unzipped himself, pushing the material of his briefs to his thighs. His hand wrapped around himself and there was dreary relief as he slowly pumped himself. You were merely a few feet away from him, a shower curtain and bathroom door preventing you from seeing his leaking cock wrapped by his shaky hand. He brought his palm to his mouth, his tongue gently licking his hand before he continued pulling and tugging. His moans seeped from his opened mouth, gentle breaths, and whiny whimpers as his other hand clenched around the corner of the counter. His hips jerked and he threw his head back, dragging his tongue against his bottom lip. His mind wandered to the image of your fingers sinking inside your tight pussy as the shower’s waterfall drenched your skin. He thought of the sweet moans you would make as he kissed the softness of your breasts, his tongue memorizing your taste as it flicked against your nipple. His rough hands would squeeze your ass tightly after sucking on your fingers, relishing the taste of your pussy as his tongue moved across your soaking fingers. He wanted you clenching around him as you pulled the curls of his hair, his name slipping from your flushed lips as he—
“Steven?”
His eyes snapped open as your voice tore through the thick air. There was a second where he thought of running from the kitchen to the hallway of the complex. He yanked his jeans from his thighs and a horrifying string of apologies escaped him. There was a searing humiliation burning through his veins as he struggled with the zipper. His zipper was stuck, the fabric of his briefs lodged between the metal. He couldn’t believe he allowed Marc to convince him this was something he could do. You were probably disgusted, going to resign his position as a tour guide, and he didn’t even want to think of all the remaining consequences of his actions. 
 He fumbled with his zipper as you slowly drew nearer. You stopped beside him, the warmth of your skin warming him as your eyes glanced at his unsteady hands. You tentatively grabbed his hand from his loosened buckle and his eyes opened, his eyebrows scrunching together with clear confusion. As his eyes fluttered open, he refrained from admiring you wearing his oversized t-shirt, the fabric drooped and flared at your thighs. Your hair was wet and he could already smell his body wash emitting from you. This certainly wasn’t helping his situation.
With large, calloused hand wrapped with yours, you brought his palm to your mouth and he gasped as your tongue moved across his skin. Your eyes closed momentarily as your tongue moved from his palm to the lengths of his fingers, slowly moving them inside the tenderness of your mouth. His eyes followed every assured movement of yours with flared pupils. With his fingers inside, you opened your eyes and sucked the remnants of him and—My God, you moaned. His knees buckled as the small, feminine sound hummed through you. Your eyes were dazed, siren-like as you pulled him from your mouth. “You taste so good,” He was painfully hard as your words processed through his empty mind. You unzipped the small portion he managed to do and he nearly knocked over the glass mugs on the counter as your hand touched his clothed cock. “Can I taste some more?” 
Steven, you better say—
“God, yes.” The words escaped his reddened lips before he could even think of what was happening. Your hand was palming him through his briefs, his fingers were slick with your mouth, and your pretty mouth was looming closer to his. Your gentle lips touched his, brushing against them teasingly as you squeezed him. He released a breathy moan and you closed the distance, relishing the flavor of his lips and his moans. He closed his eyes, unsure of how to move or of where to touch. His hands apprehensively moved to your cheekbones, your face held by his timid grasp. His thoughts were erratic as he eventually moved against you, tasting your lips and hesitantly caressing your tongue. He was kissing you and you were kissing him. He was kissing you, entangling his fingers in your hair as you touched his cock. This was unbelievable. This couldn’t actually be happening. This was too good to be true. 
He almost whined as you pulled away from him. Your forehead rested against his, his nose brushing against yours as your flushed lips curved into a small smile. He almost begged for your mouth to return to his, but when you lowered to your knees, the air left his lungs. Your corrupting gaze remained on him as you pressed small pecks onto his hip bones, then onto his outline. He’d never done this before, he had definitely thought about this more times he could count, but as you stared at him through the rim of your lashes like you were desperate to taste him, he knew he wasn’t going to last very long. You pulled the waistband of his briefs and the cold air nipped at him. Your eyes widened as his cock emerged from his clothes and your collected expression faltered as he twitched achingly. You wrapped your hand around the base of him and his hips jerked at the sudden contact. The heat of your hand was different than his own, entirely different yet exceedingly better. Your tongue erotically licked the tip and he moaned, his knuckles whitening as he gripped the counter. Your eyes gleamed with a hypnotic eagerness and he knew he was done for.
You dragged your tongue from the base to the tip, sucking on the peak to taste the pre-cum seeping from him. You opened your mouth and brought as much of him as you could manage, hollowing your cheeks. The moans he let out were pathetic whines, throwing his head back your mouth moved around him, unlike anything he’d ever felt before. He forced himself to stare back down at you, to keep his eyes open to watch the spectacle of his cock disappearing inside your mouth. Tears welled in your eyes as you gagged and he shouldn’t have enjoyed the sound as much as he did. With wavering hands, he wiped the cascading tears from your cheekbones and there was a small portion of him that didn’t like seeing you cry, but the majority and remaining portion of him savored the sight of you on your knees, gagging as the saliva dribbled down your mouth. “Love, I-I’m going to—” Your tongue swirled around his tip and your hand fondled his balls while the other gripped whatever of him couldn’t fit inside your mouth. “I-I don’t want to…Not yet, but—God, that’s so fucking hot.”
His hands tangled your hair as he gently pulled and the feeling erupted a faint moan from you. You pulled away from him and as the crashing waves of pleasure stopped, Steven could finally breathe properly and wasn’t seeing stars. You wiped the sides of your mouth and looked up at him with hungry eyes. “You can come more than once, can’t you?” His eyes widened, breathing shakily as you teasingly licked his cock, still caressing his balls and he wasn’t sure he could even stand anymore. 
“I don’t know,” He admitted, his eyes fluttering closed as you sucked the tip of him again. This was torture, agonizingly lustful torture he would give anything to experience again. “I haven’t done this…with anyone before.” He almost didn’t want to say the bashful words. He was worried you were going to view him differently, but you kissed the base of him and smiled reassuringly. 
“Nothing to be ashamed of,” Your voice was low, silk-like as you dragged your fingernails across his thighs. He shuddered and wanted nothing more than to hear you gag on him again. “Looks like I’m not stopping until you cum again.” Your eyes were determined, ravenous for him and he nearly came at the sight of the most gorgeous woman he’d ever seen famished for him. His cock vanished inside your mouth and Steven moaned, high-pitched and completely wretched. 
Holy shit, she can’t be real. She’s some kind of sex demon or—Oh, fuck!
Steven groaned as he came inside your mouth, his cum filling your mouth and he couldn’t even think of feeling embarrassed at the pathetic sounds leaving his mouth. His body shook and twitched, he lost control of himself and tugged on your hair, his eyes closing tightly he jerked his hips against your mouth again and again. He was fucking your mouth, relishing the sound of your gags, and couldn’t even feel guilty. “Shit, shit, shit.” He moaned the words over and over again in breathless whispers and your name was mixed in between.
As his movements slowed, you pulled away from him and wiped the corners of your mouth, sucking whatever dripped from your mouth. His chest was heaving, sweat lining his hairline as you stood from the floor. Your lips were swollen, flushed, and wet and he could’ve came again with how you were staring at him. This wasn’t real, you couldn’t have just swallowed his cum and seemed eager to do it again. Marc was right, you were unreal. “Are you going to be a good boy and fuck me, Steven?” He wasn’t aware a simple sentence could physically devastate someone, but those words and the filthy nickname had him crumbling. 
Steven was speechless as you grabbed his loose hand and pulled him away from the kitchen. He didn’t protest or resist, merely obliged as you dragged him to his unmade bed. With a slight nudge, he sat on the edge of the bed and watched you with wide eyes. Across from him, you removed the t-shirt slowly. Your slow movements were dreadful, and when your bare breasts were mere inches away from his watering mouth, his eyes nearly rolled to the back of his head. His hands reached outward, desperate to squeeze and pinch, but he drew back. “P-please, can I touch you?” His hardened cock twitched as his eyes traveled over your naked body. 
Touch her, Steven. She’s waiting for you. 
You loomed closer, running your fingers through the mess of curls. He leaned into your touch. “You can touch me wherever.” He nodded eagerly and his hands reached for your breasts, squeezing the mounds and a boyish smile rose on his lips. Tentatively, he softly pinched your nipples and froze when you gasped, fearing he had hurt you somehow. However, when he looked up at you, your expression was plastered with unfiltered bliss. His hands cautiously caressed your stomach, your hips, then your thighs. He was memorizing the way you felt, he didn’t want to forget the texture of your skin when you inevitably departed from his room tomorrow morning. His fingers stopped above your pussy and his eyes glittered with elation. He glanced upward at you again, silently asking for permission with an innocent gaze. You nodded frantically. 
His finger moved across the bottom of your pussy and his eyes widened as your slickness covered his fingertip. He examined the evidence of your dripping arousal before bringing his finger to his mouth. He licked it, then sucked, whimpering softly as your taste filled his mouth. He reluctantly pulled his digit from his lips and mimicked his earlier action. His finger dipped inside you and the obscene moan seeping from your mouth was nearly pornographic. His movements started as gradual as he experimented with the way you tightened. He pumped faster, exploring what movements of his made you moan louder and your body twitch. He inserted another finger and the sounds you were making were enough to have him desperate for some relief. “You are quite possibly the most gorgeous woman I've ever seen.” He muttered, his breath tickling your skin. 
Steven retracted his hand from you and you whined at the loss. He dragged his hand across your slit, your juices pooling on his palm. With his other hand, he moved your leg over his shoulder and you gripped his arm to steady yourself. The sudden movement shocked you, it was unlike him to make such a bold move, but you weren’t going to complain. His mouth devoured your pussy and with one hand coated with your juices, he jerked himself with your arousal and his other empty hand pinched and played with your nipple. Steven didn’t really know what he was doing but he had watched enough videos to have an understanding of it, and the way you tugged on his hair and moaned his name, he thought he was doing a decent job. 
You glanced down at him touching his cock with your juices, his hand moving quickly and the slickness made indecent sounds. God, he was jerking off with your arousal and devouring you like he was a starving man. He needed your clit on his tongue, he needed your cum filling his mouth, he needed you to unravel because of him.
His hand moved across your stomach, his calloused hands caressing your hip before he inserted two of his fingers inside your pussy. A strangled gasp escaped you as he pumped his fingers while flicking his tongue across your clit, gently sucking as you throbbed on his fingers. You tightened your grasp on his messy hair as he curled his digits. Your breaths fastened as the overwhelming pleasure intensified. “Steven, I’m going to cum,” Your voice was breathless, barely above a whisper as he continued to consume you. “Fuck, don’t stop. Just like that, just like that.” Thankfully, he listened to your pleas and his movements and pace didn’t falter. 
His confidence soared as you moaned his name like desperate prayers, nearly begging with dwelling tears as your body moved against him. You tasted like the forbidden fruit, dangerously intoxicating and he would have fallen to his knees every night and begged whoever answered prayers to taste you again. You clenched around his fingers and his name was the only thought filling your mind as you unraveled around him. He was relentless as he proceeded to flick against your clit. You weakly pushed him away and when he didn’t stop, you pushed him slightly harder. He reluctantly pulled away and his doe-eyes peered heavenward, a shy smile rose. “You make the prettiest sounds.” His voice was hoarse and his lips were blushing pink, covered with your cum as he licked them.
With a hazy smile, you removed your thigh from his shoulder and his hand movement slowed to a complete stop. You tugged on the hem of his shirt, discarding the fabric aside as he kicked away his jeans and briefs. Your dazed eyes traveled over him, the flexing muscles of his arms and abs. He was handsome, something written from a romance novel, and yet here he was, looking away from your intense gaze and cowering away. You lightly gripped his chin and forced him to look at you. “You are beautiful,” The words were laced with blatant adoration and his expression brightened, his dark eyes gleaming with bliss. He didn’t want to admit how much that affected him; hearing the woman he liked tell him he was beautiful. “You hear me, Steven Grant? You are handsome and you are more than enough.” He nodded and there was a sheen gleaming in his gaze. He almost cried at the reassurance and you lifted an unimpressed eyebrow. “I need you to say it. Use your words.”
“I am more than enough.” His voice was air-like, desperate for your approval. The words were foreign, tasted strange against his tongue, but the surge of self-assurance was internally welcomed by him   
You smiled and caressed his cheek with your thumb. “Good boy,” You whispered and he would have bruised his knees falling to the floor to hear you call him that again. You leaned toward him, nibbling on his earlobe. You smirked as he exhaled shakily. “Do you want to fuck me, Steven Grant?” He eagerly nodded, grasping onto your hips as you kissed his neck, licking the small marks coloring his tan skin. “Get on the bed.”
He almost stumbled over his own feet as he hurried to the softness of his bed, swallowing the lump lodged within his throat as you crawled toward him—a ravenous predator stalking her helpless prey. Such a beautiful sight. 
You touched him and goosebumps scattered across him. Your mouth stopped inches away from his cock and he could feel the warmth of your breath caress his member. “Tell me, Steven. Do you think about me often when you touch yourself?” He couldn’t even answer your question as you spit onto his cock and moved forward, placing your thighs on both sides of his hips. His tip brushed against the slit of your pussy and his body jolted. Your face looked inches away from his and the look in your eyes said a million words. You were waiting for approval, waiting for him to give you a confirmation. He whispered a weak ‘please’ and you obliged, lowering yourself onto him. 
His head crashed against his bed frame as he blissfully stretched you. You clenched around him, gorgeously warm and tight and the moans escaping his rosy lips filled the thick air. But you didn’t move and he opened his eyes inquisitively. “I asked you a question,” You said firmly and you didn’t need to finish the sentence for him to know you weren’t moving until he answered. 
“Almost every night since I’ve met you,” He answered timidly. He couldn’t even concentrate on his thoughts as you grinded on him. He watched the way your body flowed against him, your feminine moans beautifully filling his ears. “I can’t help myself. Look at you,” You rode him as he kissed your exposed neck, grabbing your breasts with both hands. He thought of you constantly whenever he tightened his hand around his cock. He came with your name on his tongue in the shower, when he couldn't sleep, and there was one time at work in a supply closet when you smiled at him while wearing a low-cut blouse. “You’re bloody gorgeous and you wear those tight, short skirts and—Fuck, just like that. Ride me just like that. Yes, yes, yes.” 
His voice was rough, his breaths shattering as you and your breasts bounced right in front of his face. “Tell me I’m your good boy, p-please, baby.” This was pathetic, he knew, but the praise was an addiction he didn’t know he had until it fell from your cum-soaked lips. He licked your nipples, sucking like you were the answer to his starvation. He was so needy, desperate for you. 
You encircled your small hand around his neck and he groaned. “Beg for it.” Was all you moaned as you sprung on him. The sound of your skin slapping against his and the wetness dripping from your pussy was fucking filthy and he was never going to forget it. This was permanently seared into his mind. 
His hand gripped your hair. “Please, please, baby.  I promise I’ll be good and—shit, you feel so good.” His bed creaked and he was certain his neighbors were going to complain tomorrow, but he didn’t care. “Tell me I’m your good boy, please. P-please, don’t stop.”
Your thighs burned but the pleasure was mind-blowing as his cock filled you, and you were certain there were going to be finger-shaped bruises on your hips and ass. “Fuck, you’re my good boy,” You whined, “You’re doing such a good job, baby. Fucking me so good, Steven.” 
His movements grew sloppy and fastened, he was roughly pounding into you and each thrust tore the breath from your lungs. “Y-yes, say my name. Say my name, baby. Say it.” He growled through clenched teeth and you couldn’t even see through the stars he was giving you. You mumbled his name loosely and you sounded drunk as you blindly repeated his name. “Can I cum? Please let me cum, please let me cum.”
Steven was begging to cum and you wordlessly nodded, already nearing your own release. “Open your mouth.” He didn’t hesitate and you dragged your fingers across his tongue, using his saliva to rub your clit. “You’re gonna make me cum—“ 
Steven moaned as he guided your hips and he filled your tight pussy with his cum. He thought coming in your mouth was the best feeling he’d experienced, but this was otherwordly.  He couldn’t think and the pleasure didn’t stop as you came seconds after. You tightened around him and basically milked his cock until he was certain you were trying to ruin him. 
He savored the sensation of him filling you with his cum, the way your body twitched and your chest heaved as you reveled in your glowing high.
Composing yourselves, you pushed your hair away and kissed him as you pulled him out of you. He groaned into the kiss and you smiled as he sighed happily. He was utterly content and nothing could ruin his mood as you laid beside him, wrapping your leg over his and pressed your head against his chest. He glanced down at you and you looked ethereal as you breathed peacefully against his chest, your eyes closed with a faint smile. He leaned and kissed your forehead. “I don’t suppose I can take you out on a proper date now?” 
You laughed and opened your relaxed eyes. “Thought you’d never ask.” You dragged your finger across his skin in random patterns. He almost pinched himself, somewhat convinced this hadn’t been real. You looked so pretty with the moonlight pouring into his room. 
“Work is going to be a lot more fun now.”
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