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#fucked up way to leave and that’s all i’m saying
emmyrosee · 3 days
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and then when tattoo artist sukuna and reader start dating🤔🙏PLEASEEEE
By the time you start dating, you’ve got more than enough piercings done by him, a few pieces of ink that decorate your skin, and when you come in for an appointment, he can barely keep his hands off of you, kissing your neck and jawline and running his hands up and down your back before and after because who is going to question the big, bad, Sukuna about PDA? No one. That’s who.
He’s all for the PDA, all for flaunting you around, and who are you to complain? But even without you there, he’s got evidence of your presence covering his body- he’s got your name on his collarbone, a wavelength tattoo of you saying “I love you” along the other ink of his neck, and a kiss mark on the inner part of his wrist. He wants to do the bite mark on his chest, next to the other dark ink littering his skin, but you tell him to wait until you catch up.
More often than not, your appointments lap over others because you’re just in his room talking, he loves to hear you talk about anything and everything, he’s enamored and obsessed with you that when he’s got you plopped onto his lap while he sketches with his chin hooked over your shoulder, those are his little slices of heaven- until someone interrupts it with a knock about his next appointment.
“I’m fucking busy!” He snarls.
“No, baby, they’re right,” you mewl, scooting out of his lap and trying not to find amusement in the way he groans in agony at the loss of you. “You’re working. I shouldn’t be here-“
“You’re supposed to be here,” he grumbles. “We made an appointment for us to chill, this is your appointment!” He’s pouting. Actual, literal pouting, and you coo and cup his cheeks to plant a kiss on his lips.
“You coming by after work?”
“Fuck kind of question is that, of course I am,” he scoffs.
“Good.” You watch him carefully as you reach into your bag, and his eyes bulge in annoyance.
“Do not.”
“Do not what?”
“If you try to leave me a tip, hand to god-“
You say nothing, but you throw a wad of cash folded neatly onto the chair in his office, giggling as you dash out of the room and shimmy through the waiting area. “You’re going to pay for that, shithead!”
“Love you, baby!”
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luvlyhee · 2 days
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“how could my day be bad when i’m with you.”
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pairing. enhypen ot7 x fem. reader (hcs)
genre. fluff, est. relationship wc. 928 warnings. skinship, mentions of wedding, petnames, swearing
— enhypen as cute things that couples do. extra. guys idk why this took me sooo long to write like the thinking put into this is insane.
LEE HEESEUNG — sharing wired earpieces
it could be on the way to school. or on the way to that cafe you wanted to go to since forever. lee heeseung thinks he wants to somehow be connected to you at all times, even when you two were on the train or the bus; not just physically but emotionally too.
this is why he feels headphones aren’t his thing; because he can’t share it with you.
he’d put on his favourite album on repeat. he loves sharing his favourite things with his favourite person. his favourite pretty girl.
holding out one side of the earpiece, he’d gesture you to take it, “put it on,” he’d request.
you two sat on the train in silence but your hearts were connected, beating in tandem.
SIM JAEYUN — wearing his hoodie
he’d want you to have a piece of him everytime you two were not together. needed you to wear something that said that you were his. you were his beloved girlfriend whom he cherished so much.
honestly even if you weren’t apart he’d still make you wear his hoodie, claiming that it looked better on you than him. he likes the fact that the sleeves cover your entire arm, leaving only the tips on your fingernails to be seen; the way it almost reaches your knees—fucking adorable he thinks.
“by the way here’s your hoodie, i think i forgot to return it the other day,” you’d say as you passed him his hoodie.
he purposely didn’t ask for it back because he wanted you to have it. forever.
“no no darling, you keep it m’kay? everytime we have movie nights on fridays make sure to wear it.”
PARK JONGSEONG — helping you with your shoes + carrying you
tying your shoelaces? no no don’t worry, he’ll help you. slipping on heels your for you? he’d be down on his knees to help you with it. putting on socks? “of course my love, which pair of socks?”
don’t even move an inch, he’ll take care of you.
“you too tired to walk pretty?” he’d ask as he caressed the small of your back with his thumb, rubbing circles on it.
you’d shake your head, “no it’s okay seongie, i got it.”
you actually didn’t ‘got it’. every few minutes while you two were walking along the bustling street, you’d take a short pause to adjust your shoe.
“baby, cmon don’t be stubborn, let me help you,” he’d sigh and wrap his arms around your hip, lifting you off the ground, gaining a small yelp sound from you. “seongie you don’t need to carry me!”
“i know princess; i just want to carry you.”
PARK SUNGHOON — breakfast, be in bed or in public
the moment sunghoon found out you don’t eat breakfast he got worried but he didn’t say anything.
“yn, can we go out for breakfast tomorrow?” he’d ask while you two were calling on the phone.
“mm, sure, why not? tomorrow 9am?” you asked.
“mhm.”
he’d make sure you were well fed, made sure you had enough energy to sustain throughout the day. he wouldn’t want to see his pretty girl collapsing in school or when she’s out.
on days where you two stayed over at each others house, he’d wake up early just to cook something for you; to surprise you with breakfast in bed.
“good morning darling, eat up m’kay?”
KIM SUNOO — matching items
it started when you saw a couple bracelet on instagram and you decided to buy it for sunoo and yourself.
“what’s this for?” he’d ask as you helped you put on the bracelet.
“it’s matching bracelets, you don’t want it?” you pouted and looked up at him through your lashes
he sighed and chuckled, “no no baby, i just didn’t know you liked matching things.”
from then on he’d buy you guys anything matching. matching shirts? don’t worry he’d customise two just for the both of you. matching phone charms? he’d go and find one online for the both of you.
one day he’d get matching wedding rings too.
YANG JUNGWON — playing with your hair
if he’s not clinging onto your hand, he’s playing with your hair.
he likes the way your hair is so so smooth and he can just thread his fingers through it, how it smells like vanilla and lavender.
on some days he’d ask you, “hey darling, could i braid your hair please?”
of course you’d say yes. you loved the feeling of his fingers gently massaging your scalp as he styled your hair. even if your hair was short or long, he’d still play with it.
he’d pick flowers for you just to insert them into your hair. yang jungwon thinks you look like a bride like that.
NISHIMURA RIKI — love letters
he loves writing love letters to you. he’d spend hours and hours drafting and writing them. just for you.
when he’s not around to pass it to you, sometimes he’d send it to you via text to make sure you still get your daily love letters; life is too short for him not to send paragraphs professing his love for you.
his friends would ask him why he wouldn’t just want to tell you straight up and chose to write letters. to be honest he’s shy and too scared to say everything to you upfront, he’d rather just write for you so you could keep it forever with the other stacks of love letters he wrote you.
don’t worry, he’s already wrote his wedding vows.
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luvlyhee 2024 :: taglist open ,, send an ask to be added
tl: @en-gelic @dioll @luv-sims @minjubie
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girlokwhatever · 11 hours
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can i request a paige smut where like the reader had pissed her off BADDD (in whatever way you see fit) and so paige fucks her with the strap BUT the reader keeps like pushing at her abs and ahitbtryna het her to slow down which in return pisses her off more…pls :)
i love you 😭
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₊⊹༉‧₊˚.˚ · .ׂׂૢ·˚ ༘ you can take it,,
paige bueckers x fem!reader
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“i don’t wanna talk to you dude.”
paige was absolutely furious. you missed one of the biggest shots of her career— a score-tying buzzer beater that ended up saving her team and securing them a win in overtime— all because you were talking to a guy in the stands. she was so excited to talk to you about it, for the both of you to share that excitement. so you could imagine her disappointment in hearing that you didn’t see it.
“paige are you serious? i’m sorry alright? i got to see it on the replays, it was really good.”
you try to reach out for her but she shrugs you off again, and now you’re pissed too. the guy was your classmate that spotted you in the crowd and wanted to say hello. you had apologized about a trillion times for missing the shot, still affirming to her how awesome it probably was in the moment.
it only made her feel worse when the guy approached you again at the end of the game. hadn’t he taken enough of your attention already?
“just leave me alone. if you want to be entertained just go talk to that guy again anyway. let him stare down your shirt for all i care.” paige throws her shirt into a corner of your room, littering her sweaty garments around your room.
“is that was this is about? a guy?”
she rolls her eyes, flopping onto your shared bed. she scrolls through her phone to avoid your gaze because she doesn’t want to say something she regrets. her legs are spread, creating space that in any usual situation you’d gravitate towards.
you stupidly decided to tease paige after finding out the true root of her anger. half-naked, you crawl towards her legs on the bed and seat yourself right on her lap. your hand pushes her phone away for her undivided attention.
you were probably going to regret this later.
“you know what we were talking about?”
she knows she shouldn’t give in just by the look in your eyes, but she does anyway. she’s a sucker for you.
“well he kept asking if i wanted to leave with him. i told him i had a girlfriend but he wouldn’t take no for an answer,” you lean closer, lowering your voice, “you know what he told me paige?”
“what?” she’s near breathless, anger still lingering because this guy seems like a douche.
“he told me he’d fuck me so good if i left with him. said he’d fuck me better than you ever could.”
“fuck off. don’t fucking piss me off.”
“he was cute. maybe-”
“paige!”
she’s rutting into you relentlessly, the same way she has been for the past hour. you’ve been squeezing around her strap like a vice the entire time from one position to the next.
after you teased paige earlier all she saw was red. she knew it wasn’t true, but the fact that you even uttered the words had some insane affect on her. she instantly had you on your back, purple strap heavy between your thighs. ever since then she’d been thrusting into you, never stopping or letting up unless she was finding a new angle.
she’d effortlessly coaxed you through three orgasms already and you were definitely feeling the effects. your thighs shook as she held them flush to her body, eyes glued to your face that was twisted together with pleasure.
you were so fucked out you hardly realized your girlfriend’s hand trailed down to the heat between your legs. her thumb rubbed sloppily against your throbbing clit, your eyes shooting open with a pornographic moan. the feeling was overwhelming and made your body shake even worse because, how many times had she done this?
“oh fuck- paige i can’t..”
“yeah you can baby. want you to cum for me.”
your orgasm feels different this time, sensitivity heightened and you can’t control it. she’s so deep and she’s filling you so good, thrusting hard and with so much purpose.
“bet that guy couldn’t make you feel this way huh?”
you’re nodding at her words because she’s right. no one has ever or could ever make you feel better than she does. she knows it.
paige continues stimulating your already over-sensitive bud, pressing harder and faster to match the pace of her hips. you moan out a high-pitched screech and mumble incoherently as your back arches off the bed so much paige has to push you back down. the pressure on your stomach sends you over the edge, sheets tight in your grasp as you finish.
she soothes your sides by running her hands up and down your body, slowing her thrusts but never stopping. you’re attempting to push your body up the bed but her grasp on you is firm and bruising.
“one more baby.” you’re still delirious from the last orgasm and she’s already speeding up her pace.
fuck her and her cardio.
you finally let go of the sheets, reaching out to push at your girlfriend’s abs. “paige please, i can’t. s’too much p.”
she’s immediately pulling your hands away, pushing them above your head as she leans over to whisper in your ear, “you can take it.”
she’s offended that you even suggested you couldn’t. her large hands find your hips again, pulling your body further down the bed and onto her silicone dick. your mouth fell open with a moan and you didn’t know if it was from the feeling of her splitting you in half or her persistence. probably both.
“tryna push me away,” she groans, “don’t be stupid baby.”
she pulls your legs over her shoulders with urgency as she snaps her hips against your own. the burn is finally catching up with her but she doesn’t even care because all she can focus on is you and the way you’re moaning her name.
you gush around her, cum dripping and soaking your sheets. the shake of your body vibrates against paige and encourages her to thrust impossibly faster, a whine escaping past your lips. she’s too good.
the all-too-familiar feeling forms deep in your abdomen again. you shift your hips, chasing your release as your hips angle down. paige’s last thrust makes you cry out, the bubble of anticipation for your orgasm popping. even paige moans as she stills because she swears she can feel you throbbing around her.
a sigh escapes you when paige pulls out. you feel incredibly empty after being filled for so long, a quiet whimper sounding through the room at the new feeling.
paige slips the strap off quickly. once she does, she resumes her previous position between your legs. she’s being gentle as her hands glide over your skin to massage the ache away. it’s a large contrast to her harsh thrusts only minutes ago.
“you did so good, ready to go again?”
“again?” you’re in disbelief as her legs slot with your own, leaning back ever-so-slightly so her pussy meshes with your own. the feeling makes your legs twitch and you’re already moaning at the barely-there friction.
“you didn’t think that was it, did you?”
₊⊹༉‧₊˚.˚ · .ׂׂૢ·˚ ༘
i hope i did this request justice!!
actually partially spell-checked this time 🤗
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her-favorite · 2 days
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CLANDESTINE II; M. / C. STURNIOLO
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MATT STURNIOLO X F!READER X CHRIS STURNIOLO
warnings: SMUT, utter FILTH, obvi no interaction between matt & chris (duh), soft dom!matt/sub!reader/dom!chris, praising, degrading, reader’s on the pill blah blah, probably more but !
a/n: you guys are the sweetest omg 😭 i can’t thank all of you enough for the love on pt. 1!! Love you guyss!! <3 hopefully this isn’t a let down! also that pic of matt actually has me on my knees omfg
wc: 5,705
tags!: @realqueenofpepsi @mattyblover07 @thepubeburgler @sturnsxplr-25 @sturnthepot @stasiesturn @eden4eva @kidwhyareallthenamestaken for all the people that asked to be tagged but aren’t on here, it’s bc tumblr won’t let me (or there’s a setting you might have to turn on to be tagged?) I’m not ignoring anyone, i promise 😭🫶🏻
SYNOPSIS: You knew it was wrong, nothing could justify it. But you kept going back. Matt knew it was unforgivable to go behind his brothers back like this. But he couldn’t stop. So what happens once Chris finds out?
PT. 1 | PT. 2
-
To say you were sore was an understatement.
After Matt had left and Chris came back, you and your boyfriend quickly fell back into your routine. Contradicting to the other brother’s method, Chris fucked you with all the strength he had, resulting in the headboard of the bed to smash against the bare wall behind it, showcasing to anyone near what you two were doing.
It was the day after that whole situation had happened and you couldn’t get it off of your mind. You knew you should tell Chris, your boyfriend, that his triplet brother had fucked you just minutes before he had made his way home. But no time was right.
As the day went by, you were left alone in the triplets’ house as they went out to film a car video for the upcoming Friday. During that time, you spent it trying to figure out how to tell Chris what had happened while he was gone.
Now looking back, you truly wonder how you got yourself in this situation… again.
“Fuck, you look so pretty with my dick in your mouth.” Matt’s voice rings in your ears, only making you wetter than you were before. He knew just the right things to say to make you desperate for him.
Guiding your head against him, Matt keeps his large hand in your hair. The way you look up at him only makes his stomach tighten, the look of pure lust in your eyes driving him further into pleasure. Your warm tongue glides along him, occasionally striking a vein. Groaning, Matt leans back against his door, closing his eyes as he only pays attention to the sensation you’re making him feel.
Matt knew everything about this was wrong. You’re his brother’s girlfriend. But it just felt so right. He couldn’t get enough of the way you moan, or the way you whined his name, or the way your pussy was made for him. He was enamored with the way you tasted, the way your lips wrapped around his cock, and the way your body looked so fucking pretty on his silk sheets. He knew his underlying feelings for you were eventually going to get in the way of what was going on, but he was already wrapped around your finger; tight enough it could cause you to go numb.
Cutting him out of his thoughts, your fingers suddenly dig into his thighs, eliciting a moan from Matt. His fingers pull at your hair, your mouth vibrating around him as you whine from the sting. His back arches slightly from the feeling, his pink lips opening in silent euphoria.
“Doin’ so good, baby. Makin’ me feel so fucking good.” He praises mindlessly, too caught up in the way you bring him to the edge. Without realizing, his hips thrust forward, a sound escaping your mouth from the sudden action, forcing you to take all of him. A guttural moan leaves Matt’s lips in response, his grasp on your hair tightening.
Hollowing your cheeks, saliva runs down your chin, yet Matt can’t take his eyes off of you. The way you look on your knees for him, those pretty eyes telling him all he needs to know. Breathing heavily, the hand he has in your hair moves slightly to brush a strand behind your ear before wrapping around the back of your neck.
“So fucking pretty.” His voice is deeper than usual, sending a chill down your spine. His words sounded clear despite the pleasure he was feeling. “Fuck, you’re gonna make me cum.” Matt huffs, his chest heaving. Subconsciously, his hand glides into your hair, pulling as the knot inside his stomach tightens. Moaning from the pressure, your lips vibrate around him, eliciting a gasp from the man above you. “Gonna,” a deep groan cuts himself off. “Gonna cum, baby.” His hips thrust forward, catching you off guard as you gag. Matt’s moans become more frequent as his tattooed arm grips your hair, veins protruding from his skin. With one more jolt of his hips, he stills as he moans your name, the band inside of him snapping. Keeping your head there, he makes you swallow it as you keep eye contact with him.
Huffing out a breath, Matt leans back against his door and lets go of your hair. As you pull away, you cough slightly, your throat already becoming sore. A soft chuckle catches your attention as you look back up at him.
“You got something,” Matt smiles as his hand cups your chin, gliding his thumb across your bottom lip, collecting a drop of his cum that had escaped your lips. Opening your lips in return, he guides his thumb forward to rest on your tongue, gathering the drop as your eyes meet his half-lidded ones. You notice his jaw clench before his tongue runs over his top teeth, sucking in his cheeks. Matt knew how much of an affect that had on you, the way his tongue wrapped behind his lips, sucking on his teeth as he looked down at you. That’s why he did it, because it teased you.
“Such a good girl,” he mutters, slowly taking his thumb away, not before dragging your bottom lip down. “On the bed, sweetheart.” He taps the wet part of the pad of his thumb against the side of your lips, then pulls away so you can follow his orders.
Quickly doing so, you scramble up to his bed, sitting back on his soft comforter. Matt’s piercing eyes watch your every move as he picks up the desperation radiating off of you. He’d be lying if he said your neediness didn’t turn him on. Leaning forward, his hands envelop your ankles, slowly but surely making their way up your legs. The look in his eye was intimidating, almost like a predator catching it’s prey. You felt your heart rate increase, your chest rising and falling faster and faster.
His lips bring you out of your reverie, the pink pillows pressing soft kisses against your skin. By now, you could feel yourself throbbing, practically leaking down on his blanket. You were sure he wouldn’t mind.
“What does he do to you, baby?” His words surprise you, your body tensing up slightly. Why was he bringing up your sex life with your boyfriend while he was going to fuck you? Let alone your boyfriend being his own brother. Exhaling shakily, you look down at him as he still makes his way up your body. Before you could answer, he continues, “Is he rough with you? You like to be tossed around?” Matt’s voice grows deeper as he speaks, a curl to his lips as he notices the affect his words are having on you already.
Swallowing dryly, you nod your head, recalling the punishments you’ve gotten from Chris. From spanking you until you couldn’t sit down, to fucking you so hard you couldn’t walk, to leaving you high and dry for a half an hour because you misbehaved. But Matt wasn’t like that. Matt liked to take his time with you, to taste and feel every inch of your skin. To make sure all the pleasure he was feeling was being reciprocated to you. To please you before any of his selfish needs get in the way. He liked the way you obeyed him without question; sure, you’re probably used to it from Chris, but he didn’t like thinking of that. He wanted you to himself, every part of you marked as his.
“But you love the way I take care of you, sweetheart.” Matt continues, almost as if trying to one up your boyfriend. As if he’s trying to make you believe he’s better than Chris. “You moan so pretty for me when I’m inside you.” He says as he never stops his kisses, getting a dangerously close to your inner thighs, occasionally biting down, causing a gasp to leave your lips as he smirks. “You love the way my tongue feels, don’t you? Always taste so good.” Once he finishes his sentence, he leans forward to press a kiss against your clit, a whine escaping your throat. He’s been teasing you the entire time and you’ve already gotten past the desperation of the situation.
Gliding past where you needed him most, Matt’s lips trail up your stomach as they stop at your breasts, centering in on your right with his lips as his hand cups the opposite. Taking your nipple in his lips, his tongue teases the sensitivity making your chest heave. One of your hands snaps up to curl into his hair, tugging the short strands as he groans against your skin. His large palm massages the other, tweaking your nipple every now and then before gently rubbing the pad of his finger over it to soothe the ache.
Leaving one last kiss to your nipple, he travels up higher, reaching your neck as he has to hold himself back from marking your skin. Pressing kisses against it, he licks a stripe upwards as goosebumps appear.
“You love the way I make you feel,” Matt mutters, his lips brushing your neck. Moving up just slightly, his lips meet your ear as he whispers, “Don’t you, ma?” His wording makes your body tense as it reminds you that Chris is the only person that calls you that. Deep down, you knew he did it on purpose, that undeniably sexy smirk never faltering on his lips. His big hands glide down your bare body, feeling every ridge on your hips, down to your thighs as his short nails dig into them.
“Because you’re so desperate for us, hm?” Matt leads on, his lanky fingers dipping between your folds, catching you off guard. Your mouth opens, heavy exhales escaping from you. “Since one of us wasn’t enough,” one of his fingers enters you, eliciting a whine from you. A soft laugh was heard above you, Matt’s eyes never looking away from you. “You needed more.” A second finger joins, stretching you out. A moan leaves you as he moves them just the way you like, your hands reaching out to take hold of something. Mindlessly, your left grasps the sheets as your right takes perch on his bicep. Holding himself up, he has one arm beside your head as your nails dig into his perfect skin.
“You close, angel?” His voice only brought you closer to the edge, that soothing, yet domineering tone flowing through your ears. Nodding your head, you’re breathless as Matt curls his long fingers inside you, hitting that perfect spot. “Then cum for me, Y/N.” It was a demand.
As if your body knew his orders, it obeyed as that band snapped and your legs shook, your orgasm hitting you like a train. Digging your nails even further into his unscathed skin, you mark him, an action that Matt doesn’t take lightly. To him, making your mark on someone means they’re his, and this entire time he’s been trying to hold back from doing so, but now that you have… he wasn’t sure he’d be able to stop himself.
Exhaling harshly, your chest heaves as your thighs calm down, twitching once he slowly removes his fingers from you. Featherlight kisses were pressed against your face, Matt’s pink lips relaxing you further.
“Did so good for me, princess. The best girl, my best girl.” He rambles, his voice quiet as he keeps close to you. You were always so warm after he had his way with you. Your eyes peek open slightly as you swallow dryly, making eye contact with him.
You knew he tended to speak before he thought when you two were together after a session, but his words caught you off guard. His best girl. It left your mind reeling as Chris invaded it, reminding you of what you were doing. How could you do this to him? Not only once, but twice. You have to tell him, to come clean. You knew you were going to lose him, why wouldn’t he break up with you? Fuck.
“Hey, look at me.” Matt’s voice breaks through your anxious thoughts, immediately noticing your change in tone. His left hand reaches up to cup your cheek, moving your head to look at him. “Focus on me, baby. I’m right here.”
Yeah, he is… and where’s your boyfriend?
-
The next few days have been awkward.
You didn’t want to face it, but it’s true. Being Chris’s girlfriend, you’ve basically lived in the triplets’ house for awhile now. So, seeing Matt around every corner, no matter where you go, always made you anxious. An inner thought always screamed at you that anytime either of you interacted, whether you both are just talking or even in the same vicinity, Chris could tell that something was going on. Which, deep down, you knew was unrealistic, but the reasonable part of your brain was always ignored in that moment.
Tonight, all four of you sat on the couch as a movie played. Nick was growing bored of it, occasionally unlocking his phone and scrolling through it; Matt was watching it as his eyes glossed over the screen; Chris was actually paying attention to it and you couldn’t. You and your boyfriend were sitting together, his big hand on your thigh as he brought you close; Nick was by the end of the couch, not paying attention to anything other than the video his phone was playing, and Matt was a few feet away from you, near the corner of the couch, yet he wasn’t far enough away to not realize what Chris was doing.
You knew the situation was fucked up. Everything about it was utterly wrong. Deciding finally tonight was the night you’d tell Chris was difficult. Something about his smile seemed happier than usual, and he was practically bouncing off the walls lately. You knew that if you were to tell him, all of that would dim to nothing, and knowing you’d be the cause of his sadness broke you. But the guilt of still being so close to him while having an affair with his brother was eating you alive.
As the movie got closer to its end and Nick’s attention span fizzled out, he retreated to his room as Matt found purchase to his phone, trying his best not to watch you and Chris. He could feel his blood boil as he watched Chris whisper to you in the corner of his eye, his anger only worsening once he noticed the way you laughed in response.
“Go to my room, ma, I’ll be down in a second.” Chris whispers to you, though it’s loud enough that Matt could hear. To say he was furious was an understatement.
Watching you obey Chris made an irritated exhale leave his nose as his eyes followed your frame make its way down to your boyfriend’s room. Once he heard the door shut, he couldn’t help but spare a glance towards his brother. What Matt didn’t expect was to see Chris already staring at him.
“I know, Matt.”
-
Waiting in Chris’s room felt like torture.
Usually, if he had certain intentions, he’d tell you to strip and wait for him. But, now, you have no clue and the longer he takes, the more nervous you get.
Was he talking to Matt? Did Matt end up telling Chris what was going on? What’s taking so long? Is he gonna break up with you once he comes down here?
Sitting down on the foot of his bed, your mind races as you pick at your finger, trying to figure out what could possibly be going on upstairs. Taking deep breaths, you do your best to try and calm yourself, but your racing heartbeat immediately picks back up once your ear registers footsteps coming down the stairs. Quickly standing up, the door creaks open as your heart begs to be released from its hold inside of your chest.
Chris steps inside, shutting the door behind him before he makes eye contact with you. “Hey, babygirl,” he takes a few steps forward to stand in front of you, wrapping his arms around your waist. On instinct, yours slither around his shoulders, the familiar position easing your nerves just barely. Humming a quiet, “hey,” in response, you wait for him to keep talking.
When he doesn’t, it surprises you. But before you could think of opening your mouth, Chris leans forward to rest his forehead against yours, keeping you close to him. “Y’so pretty, baby.” His voice was low, that tone he only uses whenever he wants to tease you.
“Chris,” a whisper fell from your lips. You weren’t entirely sure what you were going to say, but you already felt that tension inside you, needing more from him and he hasn’t even done anything yet. In the back of your mind, you knew you should tell him - it was the perfect time - but something inside you was telling you different. Let tonight play out, it said. Maybe it’ll be the last time.
“What, ma? What’s wrong?” Chris smirks, knowing that even something that little can get you going for him. His right hand glides up your body, fitting perfectly on your neck. Your lips part as his large hand manhandles you, your left hand reaching forward to rest on his arm. “What, can’t speak?” His eyes squint slightly, testing you. The curl to his lips never falters, only getting off on the way you react to him.
“Poor baby, already so fucking desperate for me.” His words are harsh as he walks towards the end of his bed, bringing you backwards. Pushing you lightly, your back hits his mattress, sinking into the soft blankets. “You were so fucking needy for me,” Chris mutters as he leans down, his nose tickling your neck, his lips grazing your skin. Gliding up to your ear, he whispers, “You had to go get some more from my brother.” His words make your breathing stop, your body tensing. Chris watches you, a laugh escaping his lips as his eyes wander your reaction. “Needy fucking whore. My dick was too good, you needed to try his, too.” His words are aggressive, but the way he says them are neutral, as if he doesn’t care.
Getting up from his spot, Chris stands in front of you, crossing his arms. Leaning up, your hands help you as you try to speak. “Chris, wait—”
“Did I say you could speak?” He snaps, his jaw clenching visibly. You shake your head in response, sealing your lips shut. “Be a good girl and stay right there.” His hand holds your chin while he talks before letting you go and turning from you, walking towards his door. At this point, you weren’t sure if he was genuinely mad or if he was playing his part by being in control of you, like how he is in bed.
You listen to him, though, sitting on his bed and not moving an inch. After a minute or two, the door opens again making your head snap up to the sound. Chris walks back in without shutting it behind him, his gaze sharp as he looks down at you.
“I know what you want, mama.” His hand rests in the bend between the nape of your neck, his fingers gliding through your hair. “Just a slut for it, huh? You need it so bad, baby.” His words are somewhat vague, but a shock shoots through your body once your eyes drift over towards his door.
“You’re so mean to her.” Matt’s voice sounds throughout the room as he shuts the door behind him, taking a couple steps inside. He stands a few feet behind Chris as his eyes land on you, a small smile on his face as he noticed your shocked expression.
“She loves it. Don’t you, baby?” Chris asks you, pulling you out of your surprised state. Nodding, you swallow dryly, going in blind to their unknown plans with you. Chris hums in reply, already knowing everything he needed to know about you and the things you liked. “C’mere.” He takes a step back as he motions towards him, wanting you to get up from his bed.
Following his wishes, your feet make contact with the floor, your eyes drifting between the two men. You were nervous overall, not sure what you should be doing in the moment, though you were sure they didn’t know either.
“Can I take this off, sweetheart?” Matt asks as his palms glide under your shirt. Your eyes lock as his practically melt yours, your head nodding to his question. His large palms travel up your body as they take the soft fabric with them, letting it fall to the floor once Matt takes it from you. His hands quickly find purchase back on your body, large palms gliding over your bare skin, causing goosebumps to form in result.
Throwing off his hoodie, Chris looks over at you two, noticing your lack of shirt. He knew he shouldn’t be okay with his, that’s his girl, but when has he ever been able to say no to you?
Digging his hands underneath your waistband, Matt lets your shorts fall to the ground, kicking them aside once you stepped out of them. Taking a step forward, his lips met yours as he backed you up towards the foot of Chris’s bed. He swallows your moan as his tongue teases your bottom lip, biting down softly to grab your attention. “Lay down, beautiful.” His fingers indent your hips lightly before letting you go as you lie back on the soft mattress again, mimicking your earlier position.
“What are we gonna do with you, huh, ma?” Chris asks as he moves beside Matt, the both of them staring down at you. Their gazes were intense, lust and desire clouding their vision. You knew Chris was rough in bed, and, for the most part, Matt was the opposite, so you were excited to see how their roles will play out.
To think that you’d be here, laying in your boyfriend’s bed, as him and his brother were looking over you, ready to devour your every move. Had someone told you this would happen a week ago, you would’ve laughed in their face. But now, here you are, almost stripped bare as you wait for either of them to make a move.
Chris broke the silence first, leaning forward to hover over you, attaching his lips to yours eagerly. It was messy and hot, tongue and teeth clashing as Chris controlled it. He breaks away once you both remember your need for oxygen, your lips gasping for breath as your boyfriend kisses down your body. He freezes once he makes it around your breasts, slipping his hand underneath you to quickly undo the clasp. Discarding the fabric elsewhere, his large palms envelope your boobs, twisting and pulling on your nipples, only bringing your sensitivity higher. Whining from the rough treatment, you can feel Chris’s smirk against your skin as he travels his way down further, his hands now finding home at your hips.
As he teases the waistband on your panties, you feel the bed dip beside you, your head turning in response. Matt looks down at you, now only clad in his tight red boxers, showing off the big print of what’s inside. Reaching forward, his hand cups your jaw, making you keep eye contact with him.
“Such a needy girl.” He mutters, the tone of his voice sending a chill down your spine. His thumb glides up, dragging the side of your lips as they’re forced into a pouting position. His own curl up as he watches you, your chest heaving as the teasing noticeably gets to you.
“Fuckin’ slut is what she is.” Chris chimes in, nipping at your inner thigh, making you gasp. The both of them chuckle at your involuntary noise. Chris’s lips press a quick kiss to your clothed clit before sneaking his lanky fingers underneath the hem and pulling them down your bare legs. Tossing the fabric aside, he hears your sharp inhale at the cold air hitting your most sensitive parts.
“She just wants some love.” Matt denies, trying to lighten the mood, though, truthfully, he knows how much Chris’s dirty talk gets to you. “Don’t you, baby?” He leans down to press his lips to yours, in sync with Chris as he licks a stripe up your slit. Gasping into Matt’s mouth, you feel both of their smiles in return. Matt hums against you, as if your desperation for the kiss answers his question.
Chris picks up your thighs, setting the deadweights on his shoulders, giving him better access to you. Your thighs tighten around his head almost immediately, the sensation of his warm tongue against you already riling you up. The feeling of the both of them pleasuring you in different ways gets to your head as your climax is brought faster than usual.
As Matt’s lips move against yours, tongue gliding along your swollen bottom lip, Chris sucks harshly on your clit, stimulating you even further. One of your hands reaches up to hang on to the nape of Matt’s neck, bringing him impossibly closer to you as your other one jumps down to grasp into your boyfriend’s hair. Tugging on Chris’s soft strands, he groans against you, the vibration making your back arch as your lips break from Matt’s.
Letting you breath properly, Matt leans down to pepper kisses on your skin, starting at your jaw as he moves down further to your neck. Your fingers never leave his as they get higher in his hair as he gets lower. His left palm slithers up your side as it grabs your breast gently, keeping in mind that they might be sore from Chris’s abuse on them. Massaging the flesh, he relishes in your moans, the devilish sounds sending heat straight to his dick.
The pleasure you’re feeling is beyond overwhelming as each sensitive part of you was being taken care of. A sharp inhale was released from you once you felt Chris dig his nails into the plush skin on your thighs, only bringing you closer to the edge. Incoherent noises left your lips as you were close to begging, that knot inside your stomach becoming impossibly tighter by the second.
“Chris!” His name left your lips as his tongue entered you, long fingers drawing circles against your clit. Your back arched as your thighs shook, trapping Chris’s head between them. Surprising you, a light nip was made at your neck, Matt’s teeth grazing against your skin.
By now, Matt was past the point of being cautious. Given his situation, he was going to take advantage of it, and he was sure Chris knew that. Marking you was one thing he knew he shouldn’t do, but now? He needs to. Sucking on your skin, biting and licking the soft area, his ears pick up every whimper and whine that your lips make in response. Pulling back just barely, Matt couldn’t get enough of the way you looked marked up by him. It was only turning him on more.
“You close, baby?” Chris asks, his fingers replacing his tongue as they reach parts inside of you your fingers can’t even graze. Nodding in response, your chest heaves as your eyebrows furrow in pleasure. “Words, Y/N. You know this.” He curls them, eliciting a sharp cry from you.
“Yes! Fuck, I’m so close, Chris!” You moan out, your eyes shutting tightly as all the words you were trying to say become mush. You felt Matt’s soft chuckle against your hot skin, the extra vibration only lighting your skin up further. “Please, please let me cum. Chris, fuck—” your words jumble together, though, through your foggy mind, you knew Chris wouldn’t let you without you asking first.
“Cum for me, ma.” His permission was all you needed as your orgasm makes you see stars, both of your hands gripping harshly on both of their hair.
“Doing so good, baby. Such a good girl.” Matt whispers against your skin, his sweet kisses never faltering as he makes his way to your collarbones. His praise only makes you wetter, even after you calm down from the intense feeling. Exhaling heavily, your chest rises and falls quickly, still recovering from the sensation.
Once Chris takes away his fingers, he sets your legs back down, standing up to look down at you. He rids himself of his shirt and pants, also only left in his tight black boxers. “On all fours, babygirl.” He taps your thigh as he speaks.
Following his directions, Matt gets up as well, seeming to have a silent conversation with Chris as you fix your position. Laying sideways on the bed now - per Chris’s request - Matt stands behind you as your boyfriend is in front. Matt’s hands glide steadily over your skin, up your thighs then to your hips, grabbing them as he brings himself closer to you. Chris moves his hand forward to cup the bottom of your chin, forcing you to look up at him.
“You think you can take two dicks, ma?” He asks rhetorically, because either way, he knew you were gonna take them. Nodding to his question, Chris hums as he spares a glance to the man behind you, as if giving him the go-ahead. Matt smirks down at you, even though you can’t see him, as his nails dig into your skin, hips moving towards you. His tip rubs along your wetness, gathering it as your breathing picks up again. You’ve never had Matt fuck you from this angle before, but every time Chris does it, he makes you see stars. You were more than sure Matt could make you feel just as good.
“You ready, sweetheart?” Matt’s voice rings through your ears, steadying your mind. Something about his tone, in the moment, seemed more grounding than usual. The difference between the roughness from Chris and how gentle Matt is, sends your body alight.
“Yes, Matt.” Responding this time, you knew it’d make Chris proud. Speaking of, Chris’s hand travels into your hair, bringing your attention back to him. Brushing a strand back, the smirk on his face makes you even needier, if that was even possible. “Please.”
“Good girl.” Matt praises your politeness, thrusting his hips forward as his tip enters you, already stretching you out. Your lips part in result, still not used to his size, no matter if it were Matt or Chris. Seating himself inside you, he lets you breathe, getting used to the feeling of it all.
“Keep that mouth open, baby.” Chris breaks you out of your daze, his fingers tightening in your hair suddenly. As soon as Matt pulled back from you, he took a second before thrusting forward, the exact same time as Chris moved his, sealing your lips around his dick. You hadn’t even realized when Chris had gotten rid of his boxers, too caught up in the sensation of having Matt inside you. “Fuck, always take it so well.” Chris groans as he keeps eye contact with you, feeling your warm tongue glide along him.
“Feel so fucking good, sweetheart — shit!” Matt rambles before moaning, one of his hands moving along your body to grab your ass. He squeezes lightly, not enough to hurt, but enough to invoke a sound from you. Skin slapping echoes through the room, Matt’s hips hitting against your ass, his blue eyes watching your every move.
With each of Matt’s thrusts, you’re pushing deeper onto Chris, his tip hitting the back of your throat. Groaning from how far down he is, Chris’s hand stays in your hair as the other slides down underneath you, gripping onto your breast. Moaning against him, his fingers tweak your sore nipple as you clench tightly around Matt. A guttural groan leaves the both of them, the vibration catching Chris off guard and your tightening around Matt bringing him closer to his climax.
“Doin’ so good, angel. Feel so good wrapped around me like this.” Matt says, his hips picking up the pace as he feels you get closer to the edge, wanting you to release before he can. Whining from his words, your eyes tear up from the exploitation of your body, so deep into the pleasure of it all.
“Aw, are you crying? Can barely handle it, huh?” Chris mocks as his tone sounds sympathetic, but his expression says otherwise. “Take it, slut. I know you can. Begging for both of our dicks, like the whore you are.” His words are aggressive, but they lead you on, your thighs tensing as you’re brought closer and closer to your orgasm. The tears fall down your cheeks anyway. “Fuck, just like that, baby. So close.” Chris exhales, fingers grasping your hair harder as his other hand squeezes your breast, that feeling inside his stomach releasing. Groaning from the pleasure, you feel him let go, swallowing what gathered in your mouth.
Once he pulled out of your mouth, he lets his other hand fall as his thumb picked up some that dripped from your lips, pushing it inside your mouth to clean it off. Moaning around his finger, you feel yourself get impossibly closer to finishing, your nails digging into the soft blanket underneath you.
“You gonna cum, sweetheart?” Matt’s voice sounds, your head nodding as your left breathless. “C’mon, angel — fuck,” he cuts himself off with a low groan, before continuing. “Cum for me.” With a particular deep thrust, it hits that perfect spot inside you to make your legs shake as you cry out. Moaning his name, your head rests against Chris’s abdomen, his hand coming up to thread through your hair. With a shaky groan from Matt, he stills as he cums, the feeling of you throbbing around him becoming too intense.
Exhaling softly, your body’s spent as it hits the soft mattress, more tired than ever. Without realizing, Matt and Chris join you, one of their hands going for your thigh and the other for your hair.
“Holy shit.”
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Only His Sweetheart | One Shot
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Summary: After the summer break is over, you start to notice some new faces on campus this year when you didn’t expect to see frat boy Oscar Piastri being around you more lately.
Pairing: fratboy! Oscar Piastri x nerd! Female Reader
Warnings: cursed words
Author note: My first time writing about Oscar. @harrysfolklore made me do it lol jk 😂 Enjoy reading!
“Fuck!” You heard someone say behind you.
You were still looking at the test you got back from your professor. You can’t believe you passed his test even though his test was hard last semester. You were proud of yourself that studying was starting to pay off.
The summer break you wanted to relax and keep your mind occupied by studying and relearning about what your professors taught you in biology class.
“For those of who didn’t pass. I suggest you find a tutor and don’t even think about failing this semester or you being dropped from my class this year.” The Professor told everyone.
You got up from your seat and started to stuff your books into your backpack. “You failed again, Oscar?” Another voice said.
“Shut up, Charles.” The guy voice had a heavy accent.
You closed your backpack and sled it onto your shoulder. You almost walked out the class when Professor Rowan called out to you. “Y/N.” You paused for a second and turned to look at him. “Yes?”
“Great work on the test.” He says.
You nodded and turned to leave, heading directly down the hallway. You realized some of your classmates still look the same and haven't changed a bit over the summer.
Placing your backpack on the table within the library, you proceeded to a genre and checked out the books on the shelf. You love coming to the library when you have no class for the day.
As you take a book off the shelf and turn it to read the back, you hear a voice behind you. “G’Day.” Glancing over your shoulder, you noticed one of the fraternity boys. “Can I help you?”
He exhales and clears his throat. “Are you Y/N? I heard Professor Rowan say your name.”
You nodded. “Yeah, why?” You were just curious because barely any guys in this school talked to you.
“Well.” He scratched the back of his neck. “I was wondering if you can tutor me in biology.”
You raised an eyebrow. “And you are?” Deep down you knew exactly who he is.
“I’m Oscar Piastri.” He extended his hand and you glanced down at his hand before glancing at his face.
You didn’t bother to shake his hand. You was not going to greet a person who already thinks the world revolves around them.
“No.” You said, honestly.
For a moment, he had a frown on his face but his expression turned into disappointment. “Why?” He didn’t think you would turn him down so quickly.
You let out a fake laugh. “Have you met yourself? You frat boys don’t take shit serious about anything.” You walked passed him returning to your empty table, pulled out the chair and sat down with the book in your hand.
Oscar Piastri is always the talk on campus. Girls love him even when they want something more with him. You heard rumors about how he treats the girls and how he is with his frat boy friends.
You don’t want nothing to do with him
“Y/N.” He pulls out the chair across from you and sat down placing his green backpack on the table. “Sweetheart, I need this or I will be off the baseball team.”
You opened the book flipping to the third page. “That’s not my problem.”
Oscar was kind of shocked the way you were being right now. He never had a girl decline him ever. Normally girls would want to be around him twenty four seven.
He sighs, leaning back in his chair. “Can you at least tell me how–” You interrupted him by not showing how annoyed you felt. “Studying is the key, that's how I pass. You should try it.”
You was still fixated on the book. You was getting annoyed because nobody ever interrupted your reading time at all. You actually wish you could punch him in the face.
“Sweetheart.” He repeated that nickname one more time. “Please.” His voice was soft, barely a whisper.
You let out a frustrated sigh. “Oh my fucking god!” You mumbles, closing your book while your gaze meets his. “If I tutor you, you have to be all in and serious.”
“Ok.” He replied with a smile.
You tell him. “Just let me know what your schedule is like and we will take it from there.” You honestly didn’t want to tutor him but at the same time you only gave in so he shut up for the most part and hopefully leaves you alone.
He takes his phone out of his pocket and slides his phone across the table toward you. “Give me your number and I’ll let you know.” You nodded, taking his phone, putting your number in for him.
“Only text me about tutoring, nothing else.” You gave him back his phone.
A slight smirk showed up on his lips. “Got it!” You rolled your eyes as you heard your phone buzzing in your pocket. You took your phone out of your pocket and saw an unknown number but you already knew it was him.
You added his name into your contacts when a girl sat down on his lap. “Baby, I was looking all for you.” She gave him a kiss on the cheeks twice.
“Calla.” Oscar pushed her off of him gently. “I’m in the middle of a conversation with someone here.
She scoffs as her eyes dart at you. “Excuse me? Who are you?”
Here we fucking go
You placed the book on the table while taking your backpack off the table. “I’ll see you around, Oscar.”
Another bullshit jealous girl you thought to yourself
You sling your backpack over your shoulder as she blocked your path for a second. “You didn’t answer my question.” She said loudly.
“Calla, leave her alone.” Oscar spoke up. “Always trying to start some shit.”
You pushed past her making your way out of the library thinking Oscar was definitely not going to leave you alone anytime soon. You were fucked.
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wakeup01 · 1 day
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Theft Of A Bro
Uffh. Yeah, that’s good. Just like I thought…tight. We’ll see how long that lasts. No need to talk bro, I know what you want to say. You’re sorry for reacting that way, that me being gay shouldn’t have changed anything. That you shouldn’t have used that slur, or called me a bitch.
Hindsight is 20/20 though, especially when you’re getting fucked by a bro who’s stealing your muscles. Dude, don’t look away. Look me in the eyes, I want you to watch your legs dangle hopelessly above you as I take your masculinity. Take the body you worked so hard for. And I want to see your expression when you begin to love it.
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I can already see your arms deflating down there, becoming dainty twigs. You won’t be able to lift a thing with those. That’s okay bro, you can give that bulk to me. I’ll put it to good use. Fuck. See them balloon, so fucking good man. Rrrrww! My biceps feel so much stronger, check out these guns. Check out YOUR guns on my body. Haha. What? Come on bro, you can forgive me for a bit of flexing. Okay maybe a lot of flexing, but I can’t help it. You were always such a egocentric showoff - puffing out your chest like a territorial beast. A textbook, self obsessed fuckboy, now I understand why.
And just look at my expanding pecs. So fucking thick and juicy. Bouncing in time with my th—thrusts! Those used to be yours. You always hated how guys used to eye them up, but now you’ll be the one salivating at them. No need to try and deny it my dude, soon enough your body will have new…needs. Wow bro, you’re already looking real flat down there. Those endless hours spent at the gym to boost your fragile ego, only for me to steal it within seconds. All that definition just fading into your tiny, slimming stomach. Those grab-able hips. Fuck, me on the other hand, I’ve never felt stronger. You could break rocks on here! I’ll take good care of these abs, they look better on me anyway.
Aww, your square jaw is rounding out to a cute little pouty face. Squirm all you want. You look so adorable when trying to seem angry bro. Hard to take you seriously when you’re blushing so intensely. You did always tease my boyish features and now my head is like chiselled marble. And you? That button nose and those freckles, guys are just gonna love you. Say goodbye to being a manly jock. Hello twinky boitoi! I think your waist is now thinner than your girlfriend… or is that ex girlfriend now? That’s a body designed to be fucked brah. So just let me fuck it. Take it like a BITCH! Like the BITCH you thought I was.
Uff. I can feel my cock expanding inside you. The veins pulsing, flowing with blood. Can you feel it too bitch? Yeah, by your expression I know you can. Stretching your hole wide, filling you to the limit. Feels good, doesn’t it. Don’t look now but your dick is shrinking. I’m stealing all that length, all that girth; pushing mine deeper and deeper inside you. Pounding that prostate. There you go. A tiny nub. My churning balls are dropping lower and swelling as yours shrivel up. Mmmff. Fuck that’s sick bro.
Yeah, it’s okay to moan. Your breathy voice getting higher and higher, as mine gets deeper. Don’t be embarrassed. It’s normal for slutty bitches in heat like you. It’s in your nature. Especially when in the presence of an alpha god like me. Whew, my pits are sweating like mad, just smell that intense musk. Smells just like you used to, bet that fact makes you real hard. Smelling your scent dripping from another man as it’s stolen from you.. Sniff and moan. Sniff, moan and give everything to me.
Holy shit, even your skinny legs are hairless now bro. Just like the rest of your smooth, svelte physique. How does it feel? How does it feel to be the ideal gay bottom slut, the very thing you abhorred.
Why so quiet broski? Oh that’s right, we’re trading that pigheaded ego for an eagerness to please. You had enough confidence to share, so I’m taking it. Taking all of it. Fuck. Yes. Your outspoken nature is draining into me, leaving a timid little mouse in it’s place. A stark difference from that rude, puffed-up dick you prided yourself on being. Even now I bet part of you wants to talk back, be a brat. Hm, but that shy smile betrays what you really are. A well behaved boy who knows his manners. Isn’t that fucking right? Heh, good boy.
Look at me and see what you used to be. Marvel at me, marvel at what you’ve lost. Starstruck at your own well deserved comeuppance. Feel your nub twitch at the sight of the perfect man fucking your jock-hood into nothingness. That strength being sapped away. It makes you feel so small and weak. But you can’t tear your eyes away.
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Your head? Sorry bro, I got bored of being the dumb one, so yeah, I’m taking your smarts too. Even if you did waste it and let your cock make most of the decisions. Maybe if you hadn’t held it over me, looked down at me. Well…who’s looking down now? Don’t worry, being air-headed has it’s benefits. That empty look in your eyes, the open drooling mouth. Blissful ignorance. The cute way you’ll get confused at the simplest of things. The ‘ummms’ and ‘huhs’ as you bite your lip and push out your rear. Talking like the complete basic bitch gay you once hated. The constant state of mind melting hornyiness. Dumb as a rock. A complete ditz. You’ll get by doing ‘favours’.
I’m not a jackass though. Not like you were. It’s only fair you get something of mine bro, you can have what’s left of my body fat. Unf. Straight to your rear. Let it plump up your butt to a perfect round bubble. A wobbly shelf. A big bouncy booty. Woof. Yeah just like that. The perfect entrance to your endlessly usable fuck hole. Damn, it’s tight. Let’s conquer it.
Bruh, your masculinity is truly delicious, surrender the rest up to me. To my new hulking, godlike form. Purge every trace of manliness from your puny effeminate body with abject glee. Lisp, smile and giggle like a silly little girl. Like the Femboy you were destined to become.
Like a BITCH.
Say again? Bthweed? Oh, you want me to BREED you. Way ahead of you bro. When I cum with my monster cock, your pretty little head will become stuffed with thick, cummy cotton candy. And bro, it’s never gonna clear up again. I have a new adorable outfit already picked out for you. Thigh high socks, booty shorts, a tiny thong and a nice thick collar with your name on the tag. BITCH.
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I’m gonna enjoy parading you out in front of all our fraternity bros. You’ll pretend to be all timid and ashamed but I’ll know you’re actually loving the sense of humiliation. Loving your new place as my emasculated gay fucktoy. If you beg enough I might even let the rest of the frat borrow you. I’ll be sure to let ‘your’ girl know that you were a good hole after being passed around. Maybe she’ll even give you tips, you’ll be besties in no time.
Hm? That’s ‘thank you sir’ to you. That’s better. Let’s be clear, we’re not ‘bros’ anymore. I’m a fuckmachine and you’re a glorified fleshlight. We need to make sure you don’t forget your role. A simple tag will suffice. I’ll even let you choose where your ‘BITCH’ tattoo goes. Forehead or rear, it’s up to you. Yeah boi, I think it’ll look good there too.
Now open wide BITCH and be ready to swallow. I’m about to fucking blow.
———-
Whew! That was a good fuck. Clean up boy, the other bros will be here soon and I…woah. Damn, I feel lightheaded. It’s like my brain is overstuffed. With…stuff. And my cock, uughhh. It won’t soften. Maybe I took a bit too much from you, but fuck, I couldn’t help myself. You deserved it after all. But bruh, I need to lift! Huhuh! Oh shit. I don’t want to be exactly like you were! But dude. Like bruh! My head! Gotta lift! Gotta flex! Gotta get to the gym and be the blockheaded fuckboy muscle jock this body deserves!
Pass me your old jockstrap, yerhh, my huge cock gonna do the thinking for the both of us brooo!
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sanemi x f!reader. isekai au, established relationship, mostly fluff and character study. | wc 1.3k, divider thanks to @cafekitsune
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Gentle communication has never been Sanemi’s strong suit.
He’s moved through his life as wild and blusterous as the winds he wields to keep the world safe, a flurry of carelessly running off at the mouth and leaving destruction behind him if it suited him best. At least until he met you.
Brash is the kind word you’ve chosen to describe him or at least that’s what he overheard you discussing with Mitsuri shortly after he realized his feelings for you were mutual, after the two of you had engaged in relatively wordless physical passion more than once. He didn’t know what the word meant (frankly, he isn’t sure if she did either although she never mentioned it) and he asked you, pointedly, to explain yourself.
“What the fuck does brash mean?”
The look on your face, wide eyes and slightly downturned corners of your lips, caught him off guard even more so than you found yourself. He watched you through narrowed violet eyes while you considered the way to phrase the explanation, a little regretful about his naturally commanding and harsh tone though he could not, and cannot, change it about himself. For a period of time, you looked terrified of him every time you glanced at him and while he felt grateful that was no longer the case, old fears crept in when you opened your mouth to speak, eyes still wide.
“Are you upset with me?” You asked, glancing toward the ground for a moment and then back at his face - that scarred, beautiful face - concerned that your choice of words offended him.
“No.” He answered quickly, reaching out to rub his thumb along the soft skin of the inside of your wrist, something that became a habit after the two of you began sleeping together. His shoulders slumped forward, he inhaled deeply and lowered his voice. “I just want to know.”
Smiling at the glimpse of the man beneath the surface, you leaned in toward him to close the surrounding world off to just the two of you.
“It means that you aren’t afraid to speak your mind and to assert yourself. It’s not a bad thing, you just get to the point quicker than other people might.”
He could tell you were beating around the bush, a little trait of yours he noticed more and more over the time that passed, and his face fell into a scowl despite his thumb still pressing against your skin.
“So you’re saying I’m an asshole?”
You frowned back at him, shaking your head.
“No, I think you just forget about the subtleties of conversation. Facial expressions, tone of voice, language,” you raised your eyebrows at him, pursing your lips to punctuate the last point. “Little things matter, Sanemi. I can’t tell you why but they do.”
Tilting his head to the side, he lacked the grace to hide his confusion. You glanced up at him and trailed your free hand up his arm, reaching until you cupped his chin and cheek in your palm.
“Why? Why can’t people just say what they mean?” You giggled and patted his face, shaking your head. “I don’t have an answer for that but what I can promise you is that I’ll always figure out what you mean even if you say it a little roughly.”
He smiled down at you, slight enough that anyone else would mistake it for a grimace, but you knew better. Emotions have never come easy for Sanemi and you knew that long before getting involved with him bearing in mind that he didn’t speak to you for weeks except to bark orders or demand you cover yourself up in the revealing Slayer uniform you were given upon your appearance in his world.
Even back then, you’d come a long way with one another in a short time. You sighed and dropped your hand from his face, sparing him the embarrassment of being caught mid embrace with you lest someone approached.
“I never mean to be mean to you,” he admitted, eyes glued toward his hand still resting on your arm. “I don’t know how else to tell you what I’m trying to say. All this shit is just…different for me.”
Nodding, you reassured him with a half smile.
“I know and I always pick up on what you really mean anyway.”
The small tells have always said more than he thinks. Twitching fingers, especially the ones he has confided in you he has less feeling in, resting against your arm. Low chuckles in his throat, so brief you believe you imagined them. His lips roughly pressing against your hairline, your cheek, your throat in the darkness of your room.
───・・✦・・───
Those small signs have certainly come in handy over the time the two of you have spent together. The days of miscommunication aren’t long passed, they still linger in the back of your mind when his jaw is slackened and he looks like he may open his mouth to say anything and leave you to play damage control, but you have figured out the little tells.
The crease between his eyebrows deepens and he grips his teacup a little too tightly while kneeling in front of the table at his brothers’ home. You wordlessly sip from your own cup but glance over at Sanemi, raising your left eyebrow to give him the silent signal that you are checking on him.
Are you ready to go?
So many words contained in a simple gesture.
Please.
He nods once, indistinct enough that Genya and his wife who are lost in their own conversation do not look away from one another. Cup placed gently back on the table in front of him, he leans upward and folds his arms over his chest, allowing you to do what you do best. Talk.
“I think we’re about to head home.”
Genya and his wife rise and smile at the two of you, exchanging goodbyes and thanking you for visiting them and their ever growing family. Sanemi’s heart still occasionally pumps a few beats harder when he takes the time to consider how thoughtfully you approach him, patiently allowing him to clarify himself when most would just assume he’s impolite and leave it at that.
“Thank you,” he finally says when the two of you have exited out of the gate separating Genya’s home and the road, stepping down the path headed toward your own that is closer than it seems on a dusk summer evening.
“Of course.” You butt your shoulder against his playfully, fiddling with the inside of your sleeves. “I know you better than you think.”
Sanemi chuckles, sliding his arm around your waist and pulling you against his side. He’s never been one for overt displays of affection but it’s just the two of you, the crickets, and the earliest appearing stars tonight. There’s no harm in kissing the crown of your head and nuzzling his face into it while your footsteps fall into sync.
“You do,” he agrees, kissing your head. “You’ve tried a hell of a lot harder at the very least.”
This makes you laugh, grinning up at him and wrapping your arms around his waist in return.
“Only because I like you.”
He looks down, brows raised, feigning that same angry look he used to wear before he learned to relax and roll with the punches - assisted by you, of course.
“You only like me?”
Giggling, you shrug, pressing your head into his chest so he can rest his chin on top of it.
“Okay, okay, I guess I love you or something, too.” He chuckles and you feel it rumble beneath your ear, cheeks warming his breath gently ruffles the hair on top of your head.
“That’s better. Say what you mean when you’re talkin’ to me.”
There’s no derision in his words. No anger or frustration, nothing to make you jump or wonder what you’ve done wrong. You glance up at him to find him looking down at you rather than the path ahead, smiling. He’ll save his “I love you” for later, in another way, something you’ve come to appreciate about him since the days when you barely knew each other and were trying to figure it out.
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percervall · 2 days
Text
it's a bad idea (fuck it, it's fine) — part 2
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Summary: your housemates give you an offer you can't refuse. What's the worst that could happen? Pairing: Jenson Button x fem!reader, Fernando Alonso x fem!reader, Sebastian Vettel x fem!reader, Mark Webber x fem!reader Warnings: discussions around consent Word count: 827
Part 2 of the Fuck It series
Pushing the plate away from you, you lean back in the chair as you rest the coffee mug on the knee that’s pulled up to your chest. You’re lucky that Fernando is also more of a coffee person and quickly learnt just how you like yours once you moved in. Sometimes you still wonder how on God’s green earth you ended up being roommates with some of motorsports finest. 
Looking around the table, you can’t help but smile as they tease each other about something that happened during the last race. Jenson laughs at Fernando’s misfortune although he is quick to sympathise seeing as they’re in the same boat with regards to their cars being nowhere near Mercedes or even Sebastian’s Ferrari. For as long as you’ve known him, Jenson has always been easy going. His teasing and generally positive attitude is what led to the two of you becoming friends in the first place. And because of that friendship, you became a lot closer to Fernando as well when he rejoined McLaren. The two of them had an easy partnership, both on and off the track, and whenever you joined a race, Jenson made sure to include you in their conversations. Somehow being friends with both of them also meant you got to know Mark a lot better, and in turn Sebastian as well. The Aussie had retired from the sport well before you met Jenson, but he remained a constant in the paddock with his punditry job for Channel4. And from what you were told, the German driver had mellowed out since his RedBull days. The four of them seem to have such a deep understanding of each other, they work together seamlessly. Apparently even more so than you had expected.
And therein also lies the problem. Because while sharing seems to be somewhat normal for them, it makes you wonder where that leaves you in this arrangement. Would it always be like this morning, where they’re all involved in one way or another? How can you make sure it’s equal? Would they take turns? The thought alone has you swallowing thickly as your mind whirls with fantasies. 
“Are you okay, doll?” Jenson’s voice cuts through your thoughts.
“Yeah, yeah. Just-.. Just thinking,” you reply, taking another sip from your now luke-warm coffee. The men share a look that you decide to ignore as you down what’s left of your coffee.
“I don’t regret this morning,” you say, worried they will misinterpret your hesitancy.
“But?” Sebastian fills in for you.
“But it leaves me with. Questions,” you add, not making eye contact. 
“You can ask us anything, sweetheart,” Mark says gently and Jenson gives your knee a squeeze. Taking a moment to gather your thoughts you look out of the window.
“I guess the biggest question I have is how will this work? If we’re really gonna do this, if I’m gonna-.. Will it always be one on one or-.. Or will everyone be involved?” Something like desire swoops low in your stomach as you voice the latter part of the question and you can feel your cheeks heat up. 
“That is very much up to you, sweetheart,” Mark says, as the other three nod in agreement.
“We should have some sort of system, like to check if you’re okay with whatever will happen,” Sebastian offers, “do you have a safe word already?”
“A safe word? I-.. No, my ex wasn’t one for anything other than missionary and the occasional oral,” you confess, stomach in knots at the implications of maybe having to use a safe word. 
“I use traffic light system, very easy to follow and understand,” Fernando comments. Your imagination runs wild with all the possible scenarios in which Fernando would use this system.
“Hey, it’s just a way to make sure it’s fun and pleasurable for everyone,” Jenson says quietly, picking up on the way your head is going about a mile a minute. You nod, taking a deep breath. The longer you think about it, the more sense it makes. Having this in place will make sure, like Jenson said, that everyone is having a good time. You had just never considered that you are allowed to check in and see whether you’re okay with what’s about to happen. While it never felt like you didn’t have a choice in your previous relationship, consent was not something that was actively discussed; It was just always assumed. And in hindsight you maybe let him get away with blurring more boundaries than you had realised. 
“Yeah. Yeah, that makes sense,” you say, relaxing back into the chair. 
“Like Mark said, whatever we do, it’s up to you,” Sebastian reiterates. You nod in understanding once more, the knot in your stomach untangling slowly. You had trusted them enough to be roommates for the last year and a half without them overstepping a boundary or taking advantage of you. They care, you think, they’re not him. Fernando presses a kiss to your temple as he pours you another cup.
“It’ll be fun, nena,” he says with a wicked glint in his eyes, and the implications have you clenching your thighs together. Something tells you Fernando could very well be right. 
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A smaller part to establish the relationship between the five of them a little bit more and to set things up for what's to come 👀
Feel free to let me know what you think (or any ideas you have for this series), your comments, tags, and likes means the world to me 💜
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taglist: @2pagenumb @alishamai @anotherblackreader @Barbare2 @blackcat-mors13 @cassielikesreading @champomiel  @dannyramirezwife @darkwaterrose @brklynlewis @the-depressed-fellow @emlynblack @forza55 @heyheyheyggg @hiireadstuff @honkyscats @hrts4scarr @jeffs77 @jaimeleannavanlloman @Leaderofthebadbitchbrigade @lightdragonrayne  @mehrmonga @prttypqrtts @raizelchrysanderoctavius @ruledbyproblematique @scarlett11xo @skatingiswalkingincursive @tallrock35 @thatsadsmallchild @szobosz @vinvantae @whoreforeveryon @woozarts @zagreus
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reidrum · 1 day
Text
two millimeters | s.r
a/n: this was literally born bc i saw reid lying on the couch in the jet at the end of demons and thought ‘i would literally sit against that wall to watch over him on the way back’ so i wrote it
summary: spencer gets hurt and you’re not leaving his side
cw: season 9 finale spoilers for angels & demons, cm violence, hurt/comfort, unestablished relationship
wc: 0.6k
___________________________________________
two millimeters to the right, and it would’ve hit his carotid.
the sentence replays in your head like a cursed mantra, rendering your other senses useless. you couldn’t hear the doctor say you could see him now, or feel penny tug your arm towards the room. and you certainly couldn’t believe your eyes when you saw spencer reid in a hospital bed, hooked up to machines and iv drips, with a big fucking gauze dressage on the side of his neck.
you knew your line of work was dangerous, being a federal agent who hunts down serial killers should be enough to prove that. but it never surprised you seeing the panic that overtook all of you when one of your own was hurt.
the pure terror you felt in this moment though, was something without parallel.
two millimeters. two millimeters. two millimeters.
you’re not even sure how it happened. they were on the way to tell the preacher he was innocent, and instead he opens fire on federal agents? it was a cruel twist of fate, spencer doing what he could to protect his people and pushing blake out of the way but getting hit himself. it wasn’t anyone’s fault either, the preacher had military grade machine guns, and spencer would have done what he did for anyone. you made sure to tell blake that.
but your spencer was hurt. and all you wanted to do was take away his pain somehow, and toss it in a river to never be seen again.
two millimeters. two millimeters. two millimeters.
“hey,” you hear a voice pull you out of your head. looking up you’re met with tired soft brown eyes lying down on the jet’s couch, “i’m okay, honey. please go sit on a chair.”
if spencer had all his strength he would lecture you on the dangers of not being properly restrained on an aircraft and the statistics of plane related injuries. but that was the problem, he didn’t have all his strength. and you were not going to let him out of your sight.
which is why you are sitting on the floor of the jet, perched in front of the couch where spencer laid, resting your head on the cushion his head was on, body leaning against couch’s frame. and you planned to stay right there until you landed back in quantico.
“looks like this flight is overbooked,” your section unit chief teased upon seeing you on the ground, “hopefully the brass sees our good work and gives us a bigger jet next year.”
morgan, hotch, even jj offered you their seats to at least get some rest, something you hadn’t had in days.
“i’m fine right here.” you spoke softly.
jj and penny looked at you in concern, but knew you wouldn’t be swayed to move anyway. your stubbornness always acted as a curse and a blessing.
spencer moved his hand to graze your cheek gently, “the doctors fixed me up really good, i promise i’m okay.”
you move your hand to rest on top of his, slowly rubbing your thumb into the curve of his palm, “and i promise i’m okay right here. i’m not moving.”
two millimeters. two millimeters. two millimeters.
two millimeters would haunt you for many years to come, but maybe right now you could use it to measure how much closer you can get to spencer till there’s only two millimeters between you.
spencer knew this was a war he was not winning, and let his hand intertwine with yours. if you weren’t so close to him you might’ve missed the faintest “thank you” escape from his lips. the jet takes off and the two of you are lulled to sleep almost immediately. the rest of the team unspokenly watched over you both, making sure you weren’t rattling around or spencer rolling around too much. and penny couldn’t help but take a few pics to show you later.
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cosmicpearlz · 2 days
Text
my love is mine, all mine (pt 2)
summary: more glimpses of your relationship with jude!
pairing: jude bellingham x reader
a/n: i’m having too much fun writing these scenarios lol
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~one~
you rarely ever get into arguments with jude but when it does happen, it’s terrible on everyone’s part. this particular moment was about him not spending enough time with you.
“so you’re saying i can’t hangout with my friends? because that’s what it’s sounding like.”
“jude, that’s not what i’m saying! i’m just saying that it would be nice to have a day with just us. i feel like i’m left on a back burner right now.”
“we do hangout. i mean, i’m here right now but you wanna spend the time arguing!”
“tell me the last time we had a day to ourselves! please enlighten me,” you were beyond frustrated and your head was hurting from all the yelling.
“stop being so fucking clingy. i see you at home every night! we don’t need to be together 24/7.”
you felt your heart throbbing from the pain of hearing those words. is it really such a crime to want quality time with someone you love? between his training sessions and your job, there hasn’t been much alone time.
“okay. my apologies for wanting my boyfriend here with me. i won’t ask again,” you took a step back, looking down to possibly stop the tears. it didn’t work. the more you thought about it, the more it hurt.
jude instantly regretted saying that. he understood completely where you were coming from but the stubbornness in him clouded his judgement.
“baby, i’m-“
“i don’t wanna talk to you jude.”
-
it’s been hours since he last saw you. jude already made the guest room into his bed for the night and found himself restless. he wouldn’t admit it to anyone else but he couldn’t sleep without you near. even if you guys weren’t cuddling, at least his hand could be on you in some way. so he tossed and turned until he had enough.
jude makes his way to the room door, raising his hand to knock when the door swings open. it startles the both of you. leaving you to stare at each other in silence. jude noticed the dry tear streaks that laid on the apple of your cheeks. it made him feel worse.
“you really hurt-“
“i’m sorry bab-“
speaking at the same time wasn’t uncommon for you two, causing the both of you to let out a breathy laugh.
“you can go first honey,” his light whisper fell into the air as if he were too scared to talk any louder.
“jude, you really hurt my feelings earlier. i just wanted to spend time with you and you made it seem like i was asking for a million dollars or something bigger. i didn’t feel heard during our conversation but unfortunately i can’t sleep without you. so i was coming to drag you to bed even though i’m still very mad at you.”
“baby i’m sorry. i’m so sorry for hurting your feelings. i want you to know that i don’t mean it. hell, everyone knows i’m the clingy one! you’re the love of my life and i would spend days mending whatever hurt i caused,” his hands came to rest on your cheeks, fingers softly swiping at the dry tear stains.
“can we go to bed now? i’m exhausted and we can finish talking in the morning,” jude nods in response to you and kisses your nose.
“yeah, let’s go to bed m’love.”
~two~
“hey babe!”
jude looks up from his ipad upon hearing your voice through the phone. he was in germany for match and of course, he asked you to go with him. saying something along the lines of being his good luck charm. you couldn’t originally get the off time from your job.
“i miss you so much.”
“jude, baby you’ve been gone for like two days.”
“and your point is?”
“okay, whatever you say. anyways, i got a package for ya! just open the door.”
the boy failed to realize how close your face was in the camera and how you whispered. you had surprised him by coming to germany, being that your boss changed her mind and let you go. it wasn’t like you asked for off time a lot anyways.
“what?”
“can you open the door baby?”
jude jumps off the bed and practically leaps to the door. swinging it open to find you with a toothy smile. he rushes to hug you, bending down to your hight and pulling you into his arms.
“you said you couldn’t come!”
“surprise! my boss decided to let me take the time off last minute. i found the first flight here.”
“how’d you get to the hotel? i would’ve picked you up.”
“it wouldn’t have been a surprise then.”
he detaches himself from you to grab your bag, then grabbing your hand, walking you inside. you take a seat on the couch that was sitting in the room and smiled as your boyfriend put your bag next to his.
“i can’t believe you’re here.”
“well believe it,” jude sat next to you and began pressing kisses into whatever inch of skin he could get to.
“babe relax,” you say, in between giggles as he continued his work down to your neck. only getting off you when you pushed his shoulder back.
“i just missed you.”
“it’s been two days!”
“so what.”
~three~
you’ve become familiar with jude being your passenger princess. you never minded, it was just nice having someone to drive with. so, you took him on another one of your side quests. thrifting.
“i hope i find something good this time. last time we went, it was a bunch of bullshit.”
“i’m kinda hoping i see something i like,” you gasp into response to him, quickly looking at him and then looking back at the road.
“woah, thee jude bellingham is interested in thrifting?”
“oh come off it.”
“i’m just saying! i literally never heard you say anything like that. just making sure my ears heard correctly,” you give him a teasing smile.
“i will jump into oncoming traffic.”
“no you won’t.”
“i swear i will.”
“i’m calling your bluff.”
the silence in the car became loud as you both tested one another.
“no i won’t.”
“ha! i knew it.”
“whatever, drive faster loser. all the good stuff are gonna be gone.”
~four~
you wake up finding the bed empty. jude’s side is made up, totally not uncommon. you figured he was at training and got out of bed to get something to eat. as you walked to the kitchen, you find your boyfriend with his bare back towards you.
“good morning darling,” he turns his head to face you with a small smile.
“good morning. what’s all this?”
“i wanted to cook for you! training was canceled today because of a family emergency. i was gonna surprise you in bed but of course you had to wake up early.”
“that’s very sweet of you,” you make your way towards him and wrap your arms around his waist. pressing your front into his back, hugging him as tight as you could. you leaned up to kiss the back of his shoulder blade before stepping away.
“let’s spend the day inside.”
“are you sure jude? i know today is my off day but you don’t have to stay in with me.”
“i want to.”
jude plates the food and sits it on the dining room table. you follow close behind and go to grab your chair. instead, jude pulls out your chair for you. pushing you in before pressing a kiss to the top of your head. sitting down next to you, you both began to eat. a comfortable silence fills the room as you both ate. his free hand resting on your thigh, caressing the skin beneath his fingers.
“i love you so much. thank you for this.”
“you shouldn’t have to thank me. i’m your boyfriend, it’s a job of mine to make sure you’re feeling loved at all times.”
“trust me, i feel all the love right now.”
“it still wouldn’t be enough to express how much i truly am in love with you darling.”
“don’t get sappy on me bellingham,” you teased, watching his face attempt to hide a smile.
“oh we wouldn’t want that,” he plays along and kisses your cheek, making you both laugh in the process.
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steddiecameraroll · 18 hours
Text
I Want to Know What Love Is
ao3
Steve doesn’t know when it’ll stop hurting. Everyone says time heals all wounds. But it’s been three years and that feels like more than enough time for the Eddie-shaped wound to heal.
Why does it still hurt?
“Steve?” Robin’s quiet when she peers around the corner.
Steve’s sitting alone on their couch in the middle of the night, staring at the blank television screen, with tears slipping down his cheeks.
“You ok?” Robin slides in beside him, immediately wrapping her arms around him and tugging him in close.
“I don’t know what’s wrong.” He wipes the back of his hand across his cheek, and then hugs her closer. “I’m just feeling lonely, I guess.”
“You got me,” she tries to sound upbeat.
“I know,” he pats her arm. “Thank you.”
They sit together in silence, rocking in each other's arms. The darkness feels like a vice around Steve’s heart, squeezing him until he can’t breathe.
“I miss him,” he murmurs.
“I know,” she presses a kiss to his head. “You could probably call him. You know he’s not asleep.”
“I know but it’s not the same.”
“I’m sorry, bud.”
“I think I should’ve gone with him.”
He’s regretted letting Eddie leave for the west coast without him, pretty much from day one. But that guilt, fear, and obligation of protecting everyone still in Hawkins was too strong to let him tag along.
“You could still go.” Robin nudges his shoulder.
“He doesn’t miss me like I miss him. He’s probably fucking all kinds of groupies. Y’know, people can’t resist a rockstar.”
“Steve,” her tone is soft but sad. “Don’t do this to yourself. First, they’re not rockstars. Eddie has a day job. Second, you know he misses you. I can always hear him through the phone when he calls. The way he says your name. That man is still crazy about you.” She runs her fingers through his hair softly. “Call him.”
Steve sighs but doesn’t respond. He wants to believe her, but also can’t withstand getting his hopes up only to be devastated later.
He just needs more time.
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“Eddie?”
Eddie’s pulled from his thoughts when his coworker Dale waves him down.
“Sup, man?” Eddie leans his arms along the bar, ducking his head under the hanging martini glasses.
“You think you can take my shift tomorrow? Rach has to go to the hospital. Her mom’s in for something with her heart. I gotta watch the kids.”
“Yeah, man. No problem.”
“Fuck, you’re the best. Oh my god that’s such a relief. Thanks. I’ll owe you one.”
“No problem. Hope everything is ok.” Eddie’s heart always tugs a little bit when he hears someone’s mom is sick.
“Sounds like it. They’re just keeping her to make sure.”
“Good, don’t worry about tomorrow. I got it.” Eddie slaps his palm on the shiny bar top and slides down to a new patron at the last stool. He sets a napkin in front of the man. “What can I get ya?”
It’s a quiet night in the bar. Slower than molasses quiet. He hates nights like this. Not only does it hit his pockets it gives him enough time to think. And time to think is bad for Eddie’s mental health.
He’s been in California for three years now and he’s not anywhere closer to making it big than when he showed up. The guys are getting over it. Tired of burning the candle at both ends and hearing ‘no’ at every single turn.
Plus…
He’s fucking lonely.
He has been trying so hard to get over Steve. When he first got to L.A. he was able to distract himself with a new place, a new job, a new dream, new surroundings everything, but that fizzled away quickly.
He’s avoiding the party scene. There’s a lot harder drugs being passed around than in Hawkins. And thanks to his dear old pops, he’s learned stay away from that shit. He doesn’t want to be a washed up rockstar before he even becomes a rockstar.
He pours the new customer a beer then goes back to organizing the receipts. His thumb is tapping mindlessly along to the music pumping from the jukebox, when the tune changes and he feels it in his heart.
I wanna know what love is
I want you to show me
I wanna feel what love is
I know you can show me
Fucking, Foreigner. This song always reminds him of Steve and that night he, Steve, Robin, Nancy, Jonathan, and Argyle went out to the Robinson’s farm. A few six packs, some California Grade-A purple palm tree delight, and drunken karaoke style singing under the stars.
Steve was hanging off Eddie. His arm slung around Eddie’s neck while he sung his heart out into his beer can. Eddie couldn’t pull his eyes off the man. They hadn’t kissed yet. Hadn’t even acknowledged what was happening between them.
But under the August night sky of finally saved Hawkins, Indiana, Eddie Munson fell in love with Steve Harrington.
“You ok, man?” Dale suddenly appears to Eddie’s left, and Eddie has to clear his throat to hide the emotions trying to crawl up his throat.
“Mhm, I’m good. Fucking hate this song.” Eddie keeps his eyes pointed down because it would be painfully obvious he was lying otherwise.
Dale chuckles. “Yeah, hear that. Rach loves it. She belts it out whenever it comes on the radio and she’s in the kitchen.”
Eddie’s heart aches a little more at the idea that maybe Steve would do the same thing.
The phone behind the bar rings and Eddie jumps to grab it.
“Mickey’s.”
“Eddie?”
His heart drops to his feet because how could he know Eddie was thinking about him?
“Steve? Are you ok?” Eddie’s ears are pounding as he waits.
“I don’t know.” Steve sounds too sad for Eddie’s heart.
“Hold on, ok? I’m gonna take my break and pick you up back in the office. Ok? Just give me two minutes.”
“Ok,” Steve whispers.
Eddie presses the hold button and asks Dale to watch the bar, then races to the back room. His fingers fumble to pick up the phone as he drops into the ancient office chair.
“Stevie? What’s wrong?” Eddie’s heart is racing.
“Nothin’, really. I was- I was thinking about you. Robin said I should call.”
“I’m glad you did,” Eddie’s fingers wind through the phone cord anxiously. “Y’know what was playing on the jukebox? Just now?”
“What?” Steve’s voice sounds soft and fluffy.
“I wanna know what love iiiiiissss,” Eddie sings softly down the line. He hears Steve chuckle and it pushes him to keep singing. “I want you to show meeeeee.”
Eddie hears Steve take a shaky breath. “Eddie?”
“Yeah?”
“I miss you.”
Eddie can’t stop himself from smiling. “I miss you, too.”
“No-no you don’t understand.”
“What?”
“I miss you. I miss your smile. I miss your laugh. I miss poking your dimples. I fucking miss you. I should’ve gone with. I’m so stupid. I should’ve gone with you. And it’s too late and I miss you so fucking much. I’m sorry. Shit,” Steve clears his throat. “I shouldn’t have called you. I’m sorry. I’m a fucking mess. I’m sorry. I’m gonna go. Sorry for calling you at work.”
“Steve? Don’t hang up. Please. Don’t hang up.” Eddie rushes out. “Listen to me, don’t hang up.”
“Ok.”
“Stevie? Baby?” Eddie hears Steve whine at the pet name. “I miss you, too. I do. I miss the smell of your hairspray, and the way you crinkle your nose in the morning when your alarm goes off. I miss you and Robin giving me a hard time about my smoking. I hate it here, baby. Fucking California sucks. I miss the stars. But I miss you more. Don’t come out here. I wanna come home.”
He’s been thinking about it for months, waiting for his sign. If Steve calling him out of the blue, while Foreigner is playing on the jukebox, and tells him how much he’s missed him isn’t a clear sign then nothing will be.
“I love you, Steve. I never stopped loving you. I’m glad you didn’t come out here. You’d hate it and probably hate me because of it.” Eddie drags a knuckle under his eye.
“I love you, too. But I don’t want you to give up on your dreams. What about the band? What about The Garden?”
“They hate it here too. Gareth is a week away from quitting. I can feel it. Jeff has a girlfriend and a really good job that he’s not going to give up. It’s over. We tried. Music is different now. New decade means new sound. I wanna come home.” He takes a deep inhale and feels a million pounds lighter. “Fuck, I’d come home right now if I could. Sneak into your place and snuggle under your covers.”
“Yeah?” Eddie can hear Steve’s smile.
“Yep, scoop you up into my arms and kiss every single beauty mark across your skin. Fuck, I miss biting those two on your neck. Are they still there? Do they miss me?”
“You’re ridiculous. Yes they’re still there.”
“And??” Eddie leans forward in his chair.
“Yes they miss you,” Steve says quietly like he’s trying to hide his face.
“I knew it,” Eddie groans. “Tell them I’m gonna be home soon, ok? I gotta get back to work, baby. I’m gonna call you tomorrow and we can talk about it.”
“Ok,” Steve hums. “I love you.”
“Love you, too.” Eddie’s cheeks are hurting. He can’t stop smiling. “God, I love you. Fuck, that feels good to say. I love you, Steve Harrington. I fucking love you. Ok, I gotta hang up. Tomorrow. I’ll call you tomorrow. Ok?”
“Yeah. I love you, Eddie Munson. Night.”
“Bye, baby.”
Eddie slowly lowers the phone down before jumping to his feet and punching happily into the air. He spins around a few times before trying to collect himself and heading back to the bar.
Dale raises an eyebrow at him. “Everything good?”
“Yep, great. Everything’s fucking great.” He slaps the man on the shoulder and beams brightly at him. “You know what? We should play Foreigner again.”
Eddie bounces around the bar and giddily drops change into the machine. He punches in the corresponding buttons, leans against the device and waits for the music to fill the air. Dale watches amusingly from across the almost empty bar when Eddie starts to shimmy his shoulders to the music.
I've gotta take a little time
A little time to think things over
Eddie can’t help himself and sings along. His chest is filled with too much joy to hold it back.
I better read between the lines
In case I need it when I'm older
“Dude? What are you doing?” Dale yells across the room.
“I’m fucking singing, man. Someone still loves me back home. I’m fucking singing.”
Dale rolls his eyes fondly, shakes his head, and turns back to the bar.
Eddie doesn’t care.
He’s going home.
Steve still loves him.
He’s going home.
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coffee? ☕️🍩💕
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marvelsmylife · 1 day
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Forgotten
Pairing: Rhysand x reader
“You broke my heart, and you weren’t even there to witness it”
Plot: Rhysand has put you, his mate, on the back burner while fulfilling his duties as the high lord of the night court. He doesn’t realize he’s losing you until he misses an important event again . . . Your birthday. Will he be able to make up for it, or will you end things with the male who promised to give you the stars when you first got together?
a/n This is the first in my small drabble series centered around quotes from Ana Huang's books. Next up is Cassian.
Masterlist
Request
Ana Huang Quote Drabble Masterlist
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Tonight was the last straw for you. What was supposed to be a night of celebrating your birthday was nothing but disappointment. All because Rhysand forgot your birthday again.
After cutting your birthday dinner short out of embarrassment that your mate wasn’t there. You made your way to his office where he was elbow deep in paperwork that he didn’t hear you walk in. “You forgot my birthday, again,” you blurted out and got your mate's attention for a few seconds before focusing on the papers in front of him.
“I’m sorry darling, I’ve been so busy with work,” Rhysand replied, “I’ll make it up to you tomorrow if you wish.”
You couldn’t handle Rhysand’s excuses anymore and finally said, “You don’t get it, Rhys. I’ve been by your side day in and day out for the past three hundred years, but you couldn’t bother to remember my birthday? The sad thing is that this isn’t even the first time you’ve forgotten my birthday.” You paused for a few seconds because you felt yourself choking up, “You broke my heart, and you weren’t even there to witness it.”
Rhysand’s breath stilled at your words, not realizing he’d been causing you pain for decades. “Why didn’t you say anything sooner?” Rhysand asked as he stood up and started making his way towards you.
“I did,” you paused and looked into your mate's eyes, “you just never listened when I told you.”
Rhysand started to think back at the interactions you've shared in the last few years and realized you were right. You’ve vocalized your unhappiness, and he ignored you. “I’ve turned into my father,” Rhysand whispered before looking back at you, “y/n, I’m sorry-”
“Don’t,” you placed your hand on Rhysand’s chest, preventing him from getting close to you, “I need space. I contacted Viviane, and she and Kallias have opened their home to me, and I’m going to go.��
Rhysand wanted to protest your decision to leave. He needed you by his side, but looking into your eyes, he knew you needed this. “Just promise me you’ll come home.”
“We’ll see,” you whispered before leaving to pack your stuff for your departure.
Mor, Amren, Cassian, and Azriel appeared in Rhysand’s office the second you were gone with scowls on their faces. “Don’t start; I already feel shitty that I’ve neglected her for so long,” Rhysand rubbed his hands over his face.
“No, you don’t get to make that demand,” Amren growled.
“Go get her back,” Azriel demanded and was about to lunge at Rhysand but was quickly stopped by Cassian, “Go get our high lady back ! ! !”
Rhysand wanted nothing more than to do what Azriel requested, but he knew you would resent him even more if he did. “I can’t.”
“Can’t? Or won’t?” Mor crossed her arms and glared at her cousin, “I have warned you a thousand times to prioritize your mate, and you ignored me every time. Now, look at what you did. You drove her away.”
Unable to handle his friends ganging up on him, Rhysand disappeared to his room, where he noticed you had taken all your belongings. “Fuck,” Rhysand cursed at the realization of how badly he neglected you and wondered if he would be able to fix your broken relationship.
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igotanidea · 17 hours
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The great birthday mess up : Damian Wayne x Reader
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Request: Yes! Reader planning a surprise party for Dami and him thining she's going to break up with him so he does it first.
Thank you anon! ;) made some changes to the requests hope you'll like it either way :)
***
„I don’t understand…” the words coming out of Damian’s mouth was the perfect example that hearing and getting were two completely different things.
“What’s there to not understand Y/N?. I’m breaking up with you. Sounds pretty simple even for your little brain.” He shrugged and turned to the window in their shared apartment so she wouldn’t see the strain on his face and clenched fists.
“But-“
“Please don’t go all whiny on me now. Just take my decision with dignity.
“I don’t understand—” she said again, as if that was the only sentence she could say in shock coursing in every cell in her body.
“Of course you don’t.” the tone he was giving her was ruthless, unlike the rapid beat of his heart calling her name with all the emotional power it could gather.
“Don’t you love me anymore?” as pathetic as it was, she almost downgraded herself to begging for an explanation with that sentence
“I’m just breaking up with you! Now will you leave me alone? I really do not want to see your face anymore.”
Well that was true, cause seeing her sad face was making his resolve crumble.
And It hurt. It hurt to tell her all those mean things.
Especially because Damian did not even wantto act like an asshole.
He did love her like a fool, he used to laugh at. If anything, he could just fall at her feet (as long as no one  saw) and beg to forgive him.
But he couldn’t.
He couldn’t because she was the one who stopped loving him first.
***
Three weeks ago, “command center” at Wayne Manor.
“Ok, people, listen up! We’re on a mission of-“
“Is she for real?” Tim whispered turning to Dick who was holding back a laugh. If the boys knew that Y/N would take planning Damian’s 24th birthday in such a serious manner, almost putting on a war paint, one of them would bring a fancy camera to memorize it.
Instead it was only Jason taking photo after photo of the girl-in-command in her makeshift uniform and with indicator in hand.
“Get it off my face Todd!” she cried out trying to shove him off, but failing at dealing with the brick Jason was.
“Not a chance. You look ridiculous. And all that for the demon’s spawn? My god! He doesn’t deserve you.”
“Careful or I’ll think you’re telling me a compliment.”
“Compliment? No, no. It’s merely an observation of your poor choice in men. Both your boyfriend and those gathered here…”
“HEY!” Dick reacted almost immediately. No way he was going to let anyone, even his adoptive brother shit-talk him “I beg your pardon! I believe Y/N has an exquisite taste in men!”
“Just because you are here?” Jason mocked, giving Dick a smirk.
“Oh-my-god….” Y/N rolled her eyes throwing hands in the air “Could you please stop that…? I got a whole presentation about ideas for the party and –”
“A presentation?” While Dick and Jason did not give the girl any attention, at the mention of possible slides Tim became awfully animated. “What kind of slides? How many?”
“Oh-my-god…” She muttered again, this time covering face with hands gathering herself “God give me patience for those man-children.” One deep inhale and exhale on her part and she was ready to proceed. “SHUT UP!!” she yelled at the top of her lungs “SHUT UP ALL OF YOU!”
None of the men has ever seen her like that. Reddened on the face with fury in eyes and clenched fists. Clearly just a thought of Damian was making her spin out of control.
“Y/N--?”
“I’m about to tell you how it’s going to go from now on.” She hissed with an unobjectionable tone. “First, you’re going to sit on your pretty asses.” her gaze travelled to Dick knowing the attention in this particular moment will make him listen “Second, you’re going to stop throwing veiled insults.”
“But-“ Jason tried to chime in and object.
“I don’t fucking care if your inner Chandler Bing is coming to voice, you shut it or I will.”
“I’m not scared of you Y/N. You are just a –”
In a blink of an eye she was next to him, with one finger on his neck.
“You got about 100 vascular plexus in your body and so it happens I know how to put pressure on all of them.” She hissed before pulling back and taking on an innocent look “now, will you keep quiet, Jason?”
“I’m still not scared…” he muttered leaning on the doorframe with a frown and pout of a kicked puppy.
“Thank you very much. As for the plan, thirdly, you’ll stop asking me about my PowerPoint thing and actually watch it.”
“I’ve been dying to watch it the whole time!”
“ Shut up Tim!” came from three pair of mouths.
“Hey! Why am I being the only one yelled at by everyone? It’s harassment! Not fair!”
Y/N exhaled deeply, making a mental note to herself to never get those boys in men bodies in one room ever again and started explaining the details of her surprise party. Clearly, even despite knowing Damian’s family for a while she did not expect it would be this hard to get boys to cooperate.
However, per aspera ad astra, she managed to present her idea of a gift, the attractions and all the surprise party.
Obliging the boys under the  pain of sudden and unexpected death, or at least mutilation, to keep their mouths shut.  And since she was the girlfriend of a teenage assassin – this time no one dared to say a word.
***
Obviously the surprise party included working on it undercover. Therefore Y/N was spending more time with Jason, Dick and Tim to the detriment of her hours with Damian. Sneaking around. Dismissing or getting off lightly of answering his questions.
And he got suspicious, it was Damian Wayne Al-Ghul after all.
The young boy, spend hours and days fighting his natural urge to follow her when she was walking out the apartment with no explanation. Tie her to the chair, light the lamp in her face and force the information out of her.
But she was his girlfriend, not a villain.
So, getting too much into his head he came out to one plausible explanation – she was slowly letting him down. Not cutting the tie right away, because that was not who she was, but discouraging him.
“You’re going out again?” he asked, capably hiding the disappointment seeing her putting on shoes and jacket.  Quickly he put the bouquet of flowers he bought for her behind his back, almost crushing the innocent buds, while simultaneously wondering if calling off reservation at her fav restaurant for the fourth time this month would get him kicked out of the VIP list. “I thought we could have a night out and—“
“Sorry, babe.” She smiled apologetically pecking his lips, grabbing the bag and already one foot out the door. “I gotta go do this thing that I told you about!”
“What thing---”
“Don’t wait for me, I’ll be back late. See you around buddy!”
Buddy?!
Did she just--? Holy fucking shit. Now Damian was sure, she stopped loving him.
And since he couldn���t watch her walk out his life like that, it was him, who was going to walk out of hers.
***
She run.
She run as fast as she could, hoping that if by some miracle she got into Flash’s speed the last fifteen minutes conversation with Damian would just turn out to be a dream. Or maybe she’ll find herself back in time, making sure it never happened in the first place.
What did she ever do to him to be treated like that?
Working her ass off to prepare a party? Using all her abilities to get people to help? Miraculously finding Damian’s friends from the past and even getting Jon to attend?
Fuck this shit! Fuck the life!
And out of all day’s in year he choose his own birthday to break up with her!
Fucking piece of shit, demon’s spawn, undeserving of a single second of the last 6 years she gave him.
Jason was fucking right as tragic as it sounded.
She burst into the Wayne Manor, where the boys were hanging the last decorations and immediately started ripping the garlands off and throwing tableware off the table.
“Y/N!!” Dick jumped off the ladder and rushed her direction, but it was Jason who reached her first. Almost tackling her to the floor, fighting against the rage of nails, teeth and screams coming out of her mouth.
“Stop it!”
“LET FUCKING GO OFF ME! THIS PARTY AIN;T HAPPENING UNLESS IT’S OVER MY DEAD BODY!”
“Better be careful with those words, cause in this family you get more than one chance at life.” Jason chuckled
“LET FUCKING GO!” she was struggling against his iron grip while Dick and Tim kneeled next to them
“No.” Jason responded calmly. “No, I’m not letting go off you.”
“None of us do, Y/N.” Tim added, moving a little bit closer, careful to not get a shoe in his face or something like that.
“What happened?” Dick asked calmly “come on, it can’t be that bad…”
“He broke up with me…” she sobbed. Not angry or furious anymore, but fully immersing in sadness. “Damian broke up with me…”
“HE WHAT?!” Dick yelled almost ready to start ripping off the decorations himself, successfully held back by Tim slapping him in the back of his head.
“She just told you. Can’t you see how shaken she is. And your making her say it again just for the sake of it? Get yourself together, Dick.”
“Sorry…”
“I don’t know what happened! I tried to talk and—”
“Talking to Damian about feelings, huh! Great idea Y/N.”
“GRAYSON!” Tim yelled slapping him again.
 “Sorry…”
“I hate to break it to you guys, but it seems like the man of the day has just arrived.” Tim moved to the window where he saw the reflection of the car lights.
“WHAT!?”
“Don’t yell at me! Bruce brought him! It was your plan Y/N!!”
“Oh so one time Bruce could be late he’s actually on time?!”
“Again-stop yelling at me!”
“He cannot see me here! Not like this! Not crying cause he’s going to think that I –“
“HAPPY BIRTHDAY DAMIAN!
“—care….”
The ending of the sentence was not supposed to escape her mouth, but not caring about her intentions it did. Maybe it was the shock of Bruce entering Wayne Manor with his youngest son, almost convinced the surprise party was already prepared and they could celebrate.
Instead the two were met with four people, caught like deer in the headlights, crying y/n, Jason on the floor holding her for comfort, enraged Dick and a little scared Tim without a plan.
As far away from their usual selves as possible.
“Are we too early or—” Bruce started, but before he could finish the sentence, the nearby ladder started to totter, hooking over the poorly hanged b-day banner and –
“NO!!” Dick yelled and rushed towards it, but tripping over Jason’s leg, fighting desperately to gain back balance and stepping on Y/N’s hand in the process. She yelled and it scared Tim who took a step back, crashing into Dick. Seeing all that Jason rushed to his feet trying to catch the material that was already falling down, dangerously close to the table and the candlestick. In the commotion no one noticed Alfred the cat, who obliviously entered the room, only to almost be flattened.
As the poor animal rushed to Y/N’s side, making her reach arms to give cat some resemblance of shelter, Dick finally managed to grab the banner.
“I got it! YES! Once more I am the one to save the day and--- AH!” he slipped on the floor cause clearly Alfred the cat left a remnants of his fear there, sliding all the way up to the table.
“NO!” Y/N yelled trying to save any of the dish that was already flying to her face.
“NO!” Jason cried out trying to snatch the decoration, getting tangled in it.
“NO!” Tim shrieked as the candled set the tablecloth on fire, that quickly spread to the leg of his trousers. And as the stimuli activated already downloaded plan in his brain, he reached for the extinguisher, profusely spraying everything (and everyone) with white powder.
Disaster.
Y/N, Dick, Jason and Tim were now all on the floor. Dirty, injured and/or humiliated, turned into giant, living, walking snowmen all on Bruce and Damian’s eyes.
“Not again….” Bruce whined.
“Happy birthday Damian!”
“SHUT UP GRAYSON!” the rest of three organizers yelled getting off the floor feeling worse than ever.
“What is all this?” Damian asked with a slight frown. “Or rather… what was all of this.”
“This is your—” Dick started
“AHHHHH!”
“Y/N, we know you are frustrated but please try to calm down—”
“This was supposed to be your stupid birthday party you idiot!” she yelled stumping towards Damian “Hear me?” he poke a finger into his chest. “Your. Stupid. Birthday. Party.”
“My- my what?” Damian stuttered grabbing her wrist only now realizing what day it was. Honestly after the morning break up with Y/N he couldn’t care less about the clock or calendar.
“Your—”
“Wait, wait. Hold back. Is this why you were acting so suspicious?”
“sus-suspicious? Is that what you thought?” her eyes grew wide once more and the steam to hit him blew off instantly
“You were just planning and preparing a party?” Damian asked realizing how much of an idiot he was.
“Yes”!
“So you didn’t stop loving me?” the hint of hope showed up in his eyes
“So you did not stop loving me?” Y/N repeated.
“How could I ever—”
She never gave him a chance to finish that sentence pressing her lips to his, not caring who was watching. And if anyone dared to tease, Damian’s katana would be used for something. And the knowledge of locations of nerve plexuses in the human body.
“Um….” Tim muttered feeling a little awkward in the situation. “Should we--?”
“Mhm. We should.” Dick agreed and noiselessly, like silently as befits a vigilante they fled the room.
***
Meanwhile, Damian and Y/n were sitting on the window sill amongst the mess of a b-day party.
“I’m sorry it didn’t work out the way I planned—” she sighed.
“You kidding? It was the best thing ever.”
“Because you got the gift in clearing the misunderstanding between us?” she smiled and interlaced their fingers.
“no! because of watching my brothers making fools out of themselves.”
“Damian!” she patted his head.
“OUCH! Ok, fine! Fine! It was because I got you back!”
“This was forced, such confession doesn’t count!” she feigned offence.
“Well technically, we never really broke up, so I couldn’t get you back.”
“Well, technically-“ she tried to find a smart way of the situation, but he cut her off.
“Well, non-technically, you got cake in your hair. And on your face And in your lips. And I haven’t even tried that treat. So how about we stop talking so I could get a chance at it?”
He liked the cake.
A lot.
@keidylovestacos @nocturnal-onlooker - I'm taking the liberty of tagging you guys :)
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skzdust · 3 days
Note
can i request academic rival! felix × afab reader ?? theyre super competitive ( enemies to lovers) and felix just has to fuck it into reader that he is BETTER
I LOVE this idea! And now I kind of want to turn it into something longer lol
Thanks for the request!!
---
You're Better
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This is smut. MINORS DNI.
Summary: You and Felix are rivals, but you've been placed on a project together. Felix proposes a challenge to see which of you gets to lead the project.
Pairing: Academic rival!Felix x afab reader
Includes: rivalry, penetrative sex, rivals with feelings, enemies to lovers, unprotected sex (please use condoms and pee after sex!)
Word count: 1.4k
Reblogs, likes, comments all appreciated!! Thank you for reading!!
Requests are OPEN!
Masterlist
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The library study rooms were supposed to stay peaceful and quiet, and when you were working alone or with almost anyone else, they were.
But not with Felix.
“You’re impossible.” You scoffed. “You know, yours doesn’t make sense either.”
You knew the piece of the project he’d put together was brilliant, maybe better than yours, although you’d never admit it. But after he’d torn your piece to shreds, nitpicking every subpar word choice and questionable rhetorical decision, you had some anger towards him.
“It’s great, you know that.” He crossed his arms, leaning back in his seat, wearing a cocky grin. “Just because you’re not as good at this as I am doesn’t mean you have to be bitter.”
“I’m not being bitter. And you are not better than me at this, stop acting all superior.”
“I am better than you.” He laughed, a sound that sent butterflies though your whole body. “I’m gonna get you to admit it one day.”
“Never.” You said firmly.
It was quiet for a moment.
“I have a proposition.” Felix said abruptly.
“Oh?”
“If I can get you to admit I’m better by the time we leave this room, I get complete control over the project. And if you don’t, you get complete control over the project.”
You laughed. “Done.”
He leaned over the table to you. “You’re gonna regret that.”
You grinned. “Make me.”
His hand found yours, his thumb brushing across your knuckles. “I bet I can.”
Your eyes stayed on the motion of his fingers, the sensation of his skin on yours electric. “And what methods do you plan to use?”
His hand stilled. “Can I kiss you?”
You almost fell out of your chair. “Kiss me? I mean, yes, absolutely, please, but you want to kiss me?” You babbled.
“I mean… I’d be lying if I said no.”
“That is the definition of ‘yes’.”
“Smart aleck.”
“Says you.”
In lieu of a response, Felix’s fingers laced with yours, and he pushed you into a kiss.
You hadn’t kissed many people, but you knew this was different. Felix kissed you like he hated you, pushing you, his teeth scraping at your lower lip. He pulled sounds out of you that were, quite frankly, embarrassing, but you didn’t care, lost in him. Your spark of animosity was transforming into a smoldering flame, and you were dry wood, ready to burn.
Except you were wet; you were very wet.
Felix abruptly pulled away from you, and you whined in confusion. “Where are you going?”
He stood up, pulling you up by your hand, and pushed you up against the wall. “I’m not goin’ anywhere.” He whispered in your ear before kissing you again, his body pressing against yours, still holding your hand.
You could feel him growing hard against your leg as he kissed you. His other hand captured your other hand, pinning it to the wall by your head.
“Fuck.” He panted as he pulled away. “This is a bad idea.”
“Yeah.” You whispered back. “But don’t stop.”
“Oh, I’m not gonna stop.” His lips met yours again, and you moaned into his mouth. His hips pushed into you, and you got a little louder, fighting the urge to ask him—beg him, if need be—to fuck you.
His hands found their way down to your waist. “Can I touch you here?”
“Mhm.” You whimpered. “Please.”
“Look at you, begging so pretty.” His hands moved across your lower stomach and back under your shirt.
“God, Felix. Can you go lower?”
“Lower?” His hands cautiously found your hips. You involuntarily pushed into him, and he let out a low moan. “Fuck.”
“More.” You whispered, closing your eyes.
“More?” Felix’s fingers traced patterns on your thighs, and you let your legs open a bit, sliding down on the wall.
“Fuck me.” You whispered, barely audibly.
“You want me to fuck you?” Felix asked softly.
“Yeah.” You opened your eyes, looking into his. “If you’re… I don’t want to push you.”
“God, I’ve wanted to for… since I met you.” He whispered, and was that… affection in his eyes?
“Then do it.” You swallowed. “I really want you to do it.”
Your biggest rival fucking you in a library study room… it was objectively a very bad idea. But you didn’t care. You wanted him.
He looked at you intently. “Okay. I will. But let me know if you want me to stop, and I will, no questions asked.”
You nodded. “Okay.”
He checked that the blinds to the room’s windows were shut and that the door was locked, and walked back over to you, still leaning against the wall.
“Okay, baby, take off your pants, and we’ll start.” His voice was low, dripping with desire.
You couldn’t get them off fast enough.
He let out a low whistle looking at you. “Fuck, baby, you’re so pretty.”
Another thrill went through you. “I’m ready for you, Felix.”
He smirked. “I’ll fuck you if you admit I’m better.”
“Oh, that’s cheating. My pants are already off.”
“We didn’t discuss this when we made our deal, therefore, it’s fair game.”
“Dick.” You muttered, rolling your eyes. “You’re better.”
His smirk grew. “I’ll take it, for now.” He unzipped his own pants and pulled out his cock, already hard. You swallowed, eyes glued to it.
He spread your legs a little wider, lining up with your entrance. “Ready?”
“Yeah.” You breathed.
He slowly pushed into you. It felt like the breath was pushed from your lungs with each motion of his hips. The stretch was slightly painful, but the pleasure was enough that you didn’t even care.
Once he was fully inside you, Felix groaned. “Fuck, baby, you’re so tight. So good.” He pushed you a bit tighter against the wall and picked up your legs, wrapping them around his waist.
“Godddddd.” You drew out the sound, feeling him move inside you as you as he adjusted your position. “Fuck me, Felix.”
“Admit I’m better, like you mean it this time.”
“Fuck you.” You rolled your eyes.
Felix thrust into you harshly, and your eyes rolled back as you let out a noise. “Like I said, like you mean it.”
“You’re better,” You moaned, and he began to fuck you, slowly.
“More.”
“You’re the better student, you’re smarter than me, you’re gonna fuck me dumb, Felix.”
He picked up the pace as you spoke, so you kept talking, trying to provoke him into going faster and faster.
“You’re better, you’re better, you’re fucking all the thoughts out of my head, Felix, you feel so good inside me,” You panted. “Fuck, Felix, keep going.”
“That’s it, baby, I’m gonna do exactly that, I’m gonna fuck all the thoughts out of that pretty head.” He suddenly kissed you with the same harshness with which he fucked you. As he pulled away, he murmured against your lips, “I’d fuck the words outta your mouth, too, if you’ll let me.”
You moaned. “Fuck. Next time.”
“Next time?”
“Next time.”
“Fuck, baby.” He whispered, fucking you faster. “Maybe I should fuck you against the window, make you scream that I’m better. Make sure everyone hears, everyone knows.”
“You have some kind of god complex.”
“Yep.”
He kept fucking you and you kept mumbling his praises so he’d keep going quickly, and it didn’t take long for you to know you were approaching your climax.
“Felix, I’m gonna come.” You panted.
His hips stuttered. “Fuck, baby, I’m gonna come, too.”
You drew closer and closer to the cliff’s edge, and as he pushed up into you in a hard thrust, you fell over, your eyelids fluttering as you came.
And then you were full, you were so full, as Felix came, too, grunting as he kept himself to the hilt inside you.
A few moments later, he lowered your legs to the floor and gently pulled out. Your knees buckled almost immediately, and he caught you, helping you to one of the chairs in the room.
“God, Felix, that was… good.” You pushed your hair out of your flushed face, looking up at him.
“You admitted it.” He smiled, zipping up his pants. “That I’m better.”
“Was that all it meant to you?” You grinned, mostly joking.
“No.” He said softly.
“Oh.” You tilted your head.
He suddenly looked away. “Y/n… do you want to go on a date?”
“A date?” Your smile softened. “Yeah, I’d like that.”
“Okay.” He looked back at you. “But I still get to be in charge of the project.”
You sighed. “We did make a deal.”
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Text
wasted (leehan x fem reader) pt 2
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paring: leehan x fem reader genre: smut, fluff, angst, fuckboy!leehan word count: 8k summary: tumbling into bed with Leehan isn’t so uncomplicated when you’re forced to set parameters around your relationship. warnings: explicit sex scenes, oral (female receiving), more butt action but nothing crazy read the fic on AO3 should you please by clicking HERE.
“So. You and Leehan?” questions Jaehyun as you now find yourselves alone, walking back to campus with your borrowed textbook now in tow.
You shrug, feeling like there’s nothing to tell as you process the now mere second interaction with the aforementioned stranger. “It’s nothing. We just hooked up at a party once.”
When you went to that house party a few weeks ago with your roomate, looking for an excuse to get drunk, sex was not on your mind at all. Still, it happened, and it was satisfying, but you truthfully spared no additional thought to that night in the aftermath, outside of a few occasional ripples up your body anytime a particular flashback popped into your mind.
“Are you, like, into him?” asked Jaehyun, who you were sure was asking so that he could know if there was any expectation on your end for him to play matchmaker. Or, maybe he wanted to warn you first, tell you about all of the strange things Leehan does as a roommate that would make your skin crawl. Either way, you weren’t interested, not even sure how deep your attraction to Leehan went or even if you’d see him again before you could think about any further action.
“He’s a little strange,” you reply, “But I’m attracted to him.” Not to mention how good of a fuck he was, you think to yourself, withholding such candor from Jaehyun who you’re sure has heard enough.
“Well,” said Jaehyun, opening the door for you as you reached the building of your morning class, “If you want to see him again, me, him, and a couple of our neighbors are driving out to the countryside to see the lunar eclipse this weekend. It’s supposed to be super pretty out there. Plus, I know you wanted me to tell you if me and friends were ever going out, and well, this is about as exciting as it gets.”
You contemplate the invitation with earnest, thinking through your homework load and wondering whether or not you can afford a weekend spent off-campus. 
In your pursuit to try and make friends as you settled into this new campus community, you’ve been hopefully awaiting Jaehyun to inform you of any activities he and his friends were partaking in. 
Leehan’s presence wouldn’t necessarily be a bonus, but it also wouldn’t be a detractor either. Maybe Leehan takes the one in one-night stand seriously. Maybe, he won’t be interested in interacting with you at all.
Or maybe, you’d have the chance to get to know the person who thus far has brought an unprecedented amount of excitement to your life. 
“What time are you leaving?” you ask Jaehyun eagerly.
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You meet Jaehyun and his friends outside in the parking lot of their apartment complex on a breezy, Saturday morning. 
In the swarm of new people you meet, a mixture of Jaehyun’s neighbors and classmates, you don’t immediately see Leehan, and for a second, you wonder if maybe he decided not to come. 
It shouldn’t matter to you, really, and yet you can feel disappointment swelling hot inside you at the observation of his absence.
That is, until a few moments later, when he comes out from the front seat of a nearby parked car. Judging by the various bags he leaves on the dashboard, you can guess that he’s probably coming back from a store run.
He joins the eight or so of you huddled outside and says nothing to directly acknowledge you, although you suppose he shouldn’t have to. At this point, you’re still nothing more to each other than strangers who are perhaps – at least on your end – hoping to get to know each other a little better. 
You notice how handsome he looks as his long hair is tucked neatly behind his ears and the glasses you’ve seen him wear before are hung neatly into the collar of his white shirt. 
“Alright, so me and Leehan are driving,” says Jaehyun, standing in the middle of the circle you’ve all naturally formed. You watch him scrunch his eyebrows as he makes a quick count of how many of you are there.“There’s space for four in mine, and three in his. So we can just split up that way.”
Your first instinct is to ride with Jaehyun, the only person who you truly know and are comfortable with. But four of his friends are closer and quicker than you are, and not wanting to make an issue, you can only watch as they pile into his car before you can say or do anything.
“Well aren’t I just lucky?”
You turn around to face a smirking Leehan, whose deep and sultry voice was recognizable even before you saw him. You don’t know what to say so you just laugh, getting into his car and quickly moving past the fact that both his voice and closeness just now made your entire body buzz with excitment. 
Bad with names, you could barely recall any of the friends who Jaehyun introduced you to, but luckily the two people in the car with you and Leehan are those whose names you happened to remember. In the front seat with Leehan was Riwoo, whose calm voice and demeanor immediately gave you the impression of someone you’d get along well with, and in the back with you was Sungho, who you remembered because of his resonant laughter.
“So, Y/N,” says Leehan, only seconds after you’ve pulled out of the parking lot. “Tell us about yourself.”
You can’t tell by his tone whether he’s joking or being serious, nor can you catch his expression through the rearview mirror. So, you simply shrug. “What do you mean?”
“Well, you’re the new person here. We want to know everything you have to share,” he replies, and if it weren’t for the encouraging hums of agreement from Riwoo and Sungho, you’re sure you’d brush him off and say nothing at all.
‘Well, I’m a transfer student,” you explain, delving into the reasons behind your decision. It was mostly because you wanted a different experience, something intimate and small, unlike your previous school. “I used to go to a school in Tae-an.”
“Tae-an? You guys get a lot of fish down there, don’t you?” perks up an excited Leehan, and when you raise an eyebrow in confusion at the sudden switch in topic, Riwoo is quick to explain.
“Don’t mind him. He’s obsessed with fish. It’s half the reason why he wanted to come out to the countryside with us,” he says, and Sungho laughs along as if this is something they make fun of him for all the time. You notice how Leehan doesn’t seem to take this personal at all, in fact looking almost prideful at his friends’ observations of his interest. 
You decide that it’s something you like about him, how he has such a unique way of thinking and behaving and doesn’t seem to care when others point it out.
“Anways,” continues Riwoo. “How are you liking it here so far, Y/N?”
You take a second to consider the question. In the month or so since you’ve started class, spending this time today with Jaehyun and his friends is truly the most enmeshed you’ve felt on this new campus. 
“It’s nice. I’m grateful to Jaehyun for showing me around. The people I’ve met so far are really cool.”
“Are they?” quips Leehan, meeting your gaze in the rearview mirror. Everything about the way he looks at you is flirtatious and suggestive, even as you’re in a car with other people. “Well, consider yourself welcomed.”
You spend the rest of the car ride answering questions about yourself, most of which are directed by Leehan. And as hard as it is to read Leehan and his motivations behind such interest, it feels nice to be the subject of attention. To hear his breezy laugh when you say something sarcastic or watch his face scrunch in concentration as he listens to you tell a long story.
It’s about two hours into the drive that the four of you make a stop in the parking lot of a grocery store. Riwoo, Sungho, and Leehan use the time to get out and stretch their legs, while you go inside to buy snacks. 
When you return from inside the store, you’re surprised to see everyone but Leehan still outside of the car. Before you can ask what’s going on, Sungho opens his mouth in explanation. 
“So, apparently Leehan found a bungee jumping place on his phone nearby,” he informs you passively, “and says we’re taking a detour to go to it.”
The last words you were expecting to come out of Sungho’s mouth, you almost bust out laughing, but can tell by both Sungho and Riwoo’s matching expressions of non-plussed sincerity that these are the sort of hijinks Leehan gets up to all the time. 
So when the three of you pile into the car and Leehan excitedly exclaims, “Let’s go bungee jumping!” you can only sigh and lean your head against the window tiredly.
Just before you arrive at the bungee jumping facility, Riwoo and Sungho ask to get dropped off at a nearby restaurant, disinterested in being a voyeur to Leehan’s irregularity. Sharing the sentiment,  you’re just about to follow them out of the car when Leehan twists his body around to face you. “You’re doing it with me, right?”
All you can do is laugh, unable to take him or his spontaneous thrill-seeking serious.“You’re fucking crazy.”
“Said the detractors of every genius ever,” he retorts, smiling as he watches you react in disbelief to the pure sincerity behind his words. “C’mon,” he urges, laying a hand on your knee. “Don’t make me do this alone.”
The touch of Leehan’s fingers against your knee brings warmth even through the fabric of your leggings. You don’t understand how you got to the point where someone you barely know could convince you to do such an extreme activity like bungee jumping with them, and yet, you find yourself considering it as you melt under Leehan’s touch and curious personality. 
“I’ll go up with you, but that’s it,” you relent, fighting back a smirk as Leehan jumps up in his seat at that.
“Atta girl,” he replies, making your stomach swoop, and then you’re back in motion as he pulls the car out of the restaurant parking lot.
You arrive at the facility just a few moments later, finding it relatively empty and breezing through the process of signing waivers and other paperwork. That just leaves the two of you to walk side by side as you get on the elevator to the jumping platform, Leehan already strapped up and ready to go while you just linger for moral support.
Leehan runs a hand through his hair, causing the strands of his brown locks to cascade across his forehead. “I’m so excited. I’ve wanted to do this for forever,” he remark excitedly. The elevator rises into the air, making your stomach drop as you peer through the glass window and notice how high you are.
“This is higher than I thought it would be…:
“Don’t be scared. I’m here, aren’t I?” Leehan replies, a joking tilt to his voice as he smirks at your puzzled reaction. 
Amused at the presumptuous notion that his presence would bring any kind of comfort to you, you raise a curious eyebrow, asking in derisive sarcasm, “Is that supposed to mean something to me?” 
“It means I won’t let anything happen to you,” he declares sincerely, though like always you can’t tell if he’s being serious or not. Because while his words seem purely absurd, he says them with such shocking clarity that it’s not hard to feel butterflies fluttering in your stomach. Plus, he does spontaneous things like this – taking a detour from a road trip to go bungee jumping – with such confidence that it gives credence to the idea that he’s a person who is serious in all of his crazy ideas.
“You trust me, don’t you?”
It seems crazy to admit to yourself that, for reasons you can‘t understand, you actually feel like you do trust him. You also hate the way that his smile seems to unlock all types of hidden depths of desire deep within you, a feeling beyond just nerves overtaking you until you have to look away to keep yourself from smirking.
“Stop talking nonsense. I think the adrenaline is making you delirious,” is what you mumble when you don’t know what else to say, and the sound of Leehan’s laughter in the aftermath let’s you know you're not convincing anyone by trying to appear unaffected by his flirting. 
With a shaky thump, the elevator reaches the jumping platform. You watch from a slight distance as an attendant attaches a series of ropes and hooks to Leehan’s harnessed back. He peers playfully over the railed edge of the platform, where at least 100 meters of air meet him. And although his expression remains passive, he nervously says, “Wow, this actually is really high. I just might die today.”
Still leaning over the edge in a way that causes you anxiety, he continues after a wry laugh that makes it difficult to tell if he’s joking or not. “I’m too young to die. I haven’t accomplished all of my goals. I haven’t even graduated college. I haven’t been in love.”
Whether he’s being serious or not, you still can’t help the “Don’t say that,” that leaves your mouth automatically at his words. And whether it’s because he’s pleased to hear you expressing concern on his behalf or simply another one of his strange moments of variablity, he meets your gaze and goes from deadpan to smiling.
“If I do die, I’d die happy knowing your pretty face is the last thing I see,” he remarks passionately, and the corny-ness of the sentiment makes you roll your eyes disbelievingly. Leehan’s grin never wavers. “I’m gonna convince you to jump too, you know.”
You should probably be more resistant to the idea, and yet there’s a part of you that feels more assured seeing Leehan do it all so fearlessly. “Now that I’m up here…” you hear yourself say, taking a second look over the edge of the rail and finding yourself surprising calm at the image. “I just might.”
“Wait for me. I want to be there when you jump. I’m serious,” he says. When you meet his gaze, you almost laugh at loud at how sincerely serious he looks, how he goes from playful to passive to passionate so easily. 
The attendant finishes all of the safety precautions, giving Leehan the go-ahead to jump whenever he’s ready. But he remains where he’s standing, gaze never leaving yours as he once more says, “Tell me you’ll wait for me. If I’m gonna die right now, I need to hear you say it.”
It would be so easy to dismiss his passion as insincere, something to not take seriously, and yet you don’t. You acknowledge then that there’s no one quite like Leehan, no one who has managed to make you feel the things that he’s done in such a short amount of time.
“I’ll wait for you.”
Leehan smiles, and it really does seem like he needed to hear that, because he’s immediately bracing himself to stand on the very edge of the jumping platform, no rail to hold him back, just his own will. “Thank you, Y/N. We good to go?” he asks to the attendant, and when he’s given the thumbs up, he takes one last look over his shoulder to meet your gaze. “See you on the flipside, Y/N.”
It’s with those parting words that he leans headfirst into the abyss, bundles of rope cascading after him as he takes the plunge into the open air. 
He doesn’t let out a scream or a squeak, just jumps effortlessly, as if he isn’t scared of anything. 
His fearlessness is something that you’re simultaneously intimidated by and in awe of.
The attendant turns to you and asks if you’d like to go next. You’re replying yes, and in the next second you’re being strapped up in a harness. Leehan, who you were sure would be getting heralded into a boat and brought back to land by now, yells something that makes a lot of non-fear related butterflies flutter in your stomach. 
“Wait for me, Y/N!!!”
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Whatever it is that’s drawing you to Leehan so magnetically has you bungee jumping with him not just once, but five times. And with the permission of the attendant, you even jump a few times together at once, legs wrapped around his waist in a tight embrace and head buried in his neck to keep yourself from screaming in his ear. 
Once the adrenaline high has run it’s course and you’re back on the road, Sungho and Riwoo in tow, you find yourself worn out to the max. You fall asleep against the car window, lulled to sleep by the faint sounds of tire against pavement. 
You don’t know what time it is when you’re woken up by the sound of lowly-spoken voices, only that it’s dark outside. Someone must have put a blanket over you, because you can only see through the little piece of light not obscured by the soft fabric over half your face. Thinking you might still be able to fall back asleep, you remain still, only to hear something from Riwoo that catches your attention. 
“Hey, what happened to that girl you were with? What was her name? Matty?”
You hear a soft chuckle that you immediately attribute to Leehan, an assumption that’s confirmed by the next words you hear out of his recognizably low, deep voice. “Nah, I think you’re talking about Natty.
“Me and her were never together. We were just hanging out for a couple of weeks.”
“Just hanging out, huh?” repeats Riwoo, disbelief and disapproval all mixed together in his softly-spoken voice. “You’ll never settle down, will you, Leehan?”
Wondering why Sungho hasn’t chimed in, you open one eye just slightly to confirm that he’s snoring softly in the seat next to yours. And in the moment where your eyes are slightly squinted open, you swear you see Leehan’s head jut over his shoulder, almost if he was trying to confirm if you were still sleeping or not. 
You must’ve closed your eyes at just the right time, because his next words are, “Why when I can fuck anyone I want?”
In the same sense of poorly fitting clothes, words of these sort just don’t sound right coming out of Leehan’s mouth, but you remain silent and still under the guise of being asleep. You’re not sure how to feel in reaction to what you’ve overheard — on one hand, the camaraderie you’ve developed with Leehan so far doesn’t negate the fact that the two of you have no sort of formal relationship. You don’t even think you could call him a friend, not with the little time you’ve spent together. 
And yet, you still feel a hot mix of disappointment swirling inside of you just the same at the news of him not being the person you thought he was. But even just making that internal acknowledgment makes you feel stupid and childish – when did he ever promise or do anything to imply something of substance? 
“Are we here?” asks Riwoo, breaking you out of thoughts that grow more complicated with each second you have to stew on them.
“Yeah, wake everyone up,” says Leehan, and then, you have to pretend like you weren’t alert listening to their conversation as Riwoo softly shakes you awake.
Jaehyun and his group, who made it to the hotel first, are already waiting outside as you, Leehan, Sungho and Riwoo pile out of the car. After the eclipse is over, you’ll stay here overnight and drive back to campus the next morning.
Jaehyun was in charge of booking the rooms and thus goes inside by himself to handle the check-in process. The rest of you wait outside, where the nighttime chill has you wishing you would’ve brought a jacket. You wrap your arms around your body in an effort to warm yourself.
You’re caught off guard for a moment when a wool cardigan is placed onto your shoulders from behind. Turning around to find Leehan behind you, you let out a sigh. “You scared me,” you grumble.
“Boo,” he halfheartedly exclaims before wrapping the jacket around your body tightly. It leaves him in just a t-shirt. “Here. You look cold.”
You know you should take the gesture for what it is – a simple, kind thing to do for someone you see shivering in the cold – but after what you heard earlier you find yourself searching his dark eyes, wishing you could read him now more than ever. 
“Thank you,” you reply softly, hearing your voice come out lower than intended and hoping he doesn’t notice as he walks away aimlessly.
It’s at that moment that Jaehyun comes out from the hotel lobby, holding a packet of keys in his hands and announcing, “Hey. They accidentally gave us an extra suite, and since they’re not busy, we get to keep it.”
There’s a chorus of cheers and commentary among the nine of you that’s interrupted by you asking, “How are we deciding room assignments?” 
“Rock, paper, scissors is what we usually do,” answers Sungho sensibly from beside you, and with that, everyone gathers in a circle for the game. Not invested in where you’ll sleep, you play rock each round, and somehow end up winning against Riwoo for the solo room.
“It’s a shame,” you remark, staring down at your winning fist a little regretfully. “Just as I was beginning to get to know you guys, and I get heralded off into the room by myself”
“It’s okay, Y/N. Thanks to Leehan, we probably already know your entire life story,” says Riwoo kindly in consolation.
“True,” you concede. Your gaze flits over to Leehan, looking to see if he had any reaction, and you find him staring blank-faced into the sky. You notice how he often has these dreamy moments where he seems to be in his own world, unchallenged by what’s going on around him. It’s hard to relate to someone so strange, and yet the fact that he marches to the beat of his own drum is one of the things you find most attractive about him. Maybe that’s why you’re having such a hard time reconciling with what you heard in the car, unable to imagine a person like him doing the things he spoke of.
“Well, the eclipse doesn’t start until midnight,” announces Jaehyun, looking down at his watch. “So I guess we can chill in our rooms and meet back outside when it’s time.”
Jaehyun gives everyone their room key, and from there you head inside and find your suite on the first floor. The first thing you do when inside is take a nice long, hot shower. After a full day spent sitting and sleeping in the confines of a car, the hot water is just what you need to feel energized again. You change into something comfortable and are drying your hair when suddenly, you hear a knock at your door.
“Who is it?” you shout as you make your way to the peephole, thinking you’ll see housekeeping with an extra towel or a neighbor complaining about you using up all the hot water. Instead, you’re faced with the distorted image of a dawdling Leehan as he leans against your door.
“Who do you think it is?” you hear him say in his deep, sinewy voice, and through the peephole you can just make out the smirk on his face – he hasn’t even done anything yet, and yet you already feel butterflies erupting in your stomach as you’re opening the door to face him.
Leaning against your doorframe in the t-shirt and sweatpants you’ve seen him in all day today, you watch Leehan look almost guilty, like he’s doing something he isn’t supposed to by coming to your room like this.
“Are you playing Mr. Anonymous again tonight?” 
Leehan, as if considering the question you intended to be sarcastic seriously, furrows his eyebrows in concentration. “I don’t think so. Are you gonna let me in?”
You take a few seconds to consider the request, although mostly for show. Truthfully, it’s a little embarrassing how your body is already buzzing in reaction to his presence, how you become girlish and flattered inside at the idea of him seeking out your company like this. 
Opening the door to let him inside, you watch as he immediately goes to sit on the edge of your bed. You close the door shut behind you and go to stand over him, though several feet away. “Why are you here?” you ask softly. Not at all opposed to his company, you’d stil like to hear what brought him here.
“Why do you think I’m here?” he questions back with a sheepish grin.
You roll your eyes at what is clearly him playing coy. Why make the move in coming over here if he wasn’t going to be direct? To waste your time by not being clear with what he wants? “You ask a lot of questions in response to other questions,” you point out with a frown.
“Sorry. It’s the philosophy major in me,” he explains in clusmy apology, leaning back aginst his palms and letting his eyes roam you. “You look pretty with your hair wet.”
Done trying to force explanations out of him, you simply remain silent and watch him watch you, and for someone whose usually so hard to read, you love how easy it is to tell when he’s checking you out. Now that you think of it, since you’ve known him, it’s been moments like these – when he’s on top of you or eating you out from the back – when you’ve truly felt like you understood and related to Leehan.
You take a few steps forward so that you’re standing just in front of him, and the way his gaze never leaves your body the entire time causes your insides to jump. “Why are you looking at me like that?” you ask, when it clearly seems like he won’t be the one to break this silent tension.
“Because I want to fuck you,” he replies assertivley, being as direct as it gets, and his unfiltered candor causes the both of you to giggle at once. He follows up by asking shyly, “Too honest?”
“You’re crazy,” is all you say in responsw, moving forward even more so that you’re directly slotted between his legs. He raises a hand up to rub against the back of your thigh, and the fact that his hand is big enough to reach across the entire width of your leg makes you shiver. 
“If you’re not in the mood, tell me, and I’ll leave,” he says, avoiding your gaze when he does. Perhaps he’s assuming that your lack of immediate action means you’re not interested when really, you just find it fun to not make it easy for him. He must be so cocky to think that just by expressing his desire to fuck you you would immediatly fold. Humbling him, even in the smallest ways, lets you feel like you’re in control of this dynamic when honestly – both of you know that by the end of this interaction, no matter how long you drag it out, he’ll have gotten what he wanted.
“So if I say no to you, it means I’m not in the mood, and not just that I’m not into Leehan?”
Leehan throws his head back in laughter at this. Loving the sound, you let out a giggle as well. “I think you’re a lot of things, Y/N, but you don’t give liar. I'm at least 80% sure that you’re into me,” he declares.
And that’s what’s so funny about Leehan – he can go from annoyingly confident to unsure within seconds. “Oh yeah? And what’s the other 20%?” you question in amusement.
Leehan shrugs, bringing his broad shoulders to your eager attention. “A man can never be too confident, can he?” he quips, poking the inside of his cheek with his tongue. 
It’s at that moment that you decide you’re tired of making him wait – taking pleasure in the way his pupils grow wide in attention, you move to straddle his waist, using the shoulders you were just fawning over to support yourself. “Well, you’re bad at math Leehan – what’s your last name?”
“Kim.”
“You’re bad at math, Kim Leehan,” you mumble, leaning down to kiss his plush lips.
Whatever banter or power dynamics that were present before are forgotten the moment his lips are on yours. He’s just so good at kissing, always making your stomach flutter with the way he deepens the kiss by pulling you in by your hair and how he quickly progresses to tongue. Beforew you know it, you’re flipped onto your back, arching your back as his hands wander your body.
“I have to tell you, Y/N,” he opens his mouth to suddenly say, pulling away from your lips as he goes to rid you of your shorts. “I don’t usually do two time hookups. After the first time, I thought I’d never you see again.”
Your chest rises and falls with the weight of several shaky breaths, desire racing through you as Leehan just plays with the little bow on your underwear, looking up at you as he awaits your response. “And is that what you wanted?” you ask. “To never see me again?”
“Not particularly. Still, that’s usually how these things go,” answers Leehan in an almost unfeeling way, something you don’t dwell on as the yanking of your underwear down your legs brings your attention to more important matters. ”But then you show up here, all pretty and  badly-behaved, I couldn’t wait to get you alone.”
You’re not even given a chance to laugh at the words he uses to describe you before he lets a single, thick finger slip into your wetness, the stimulation of which has you already moaning, arching your back. He pushes it in and out of you in slow, teasing movements that are made lewd by the sound of your wetness gushing in and out with his finger. When he goes knuckle deep, curling the digit inside of you, you throw your head back, asking for more.
“I wanna make you come, Y/N. I wanna make you come so bad.”
“So do it,” you mumble in response, once again struck by the intensity of him giving you pleasure like this while keeping his eyes locked on your face. Despite your pleading and his own admitted eagerness to please you, he maintains a steadily slow pace as he continues to push his finger in and out of you.
“I have to let you know something first,” he says, and although you hear him take on a more serious tone, you don’t pay any mind to it, too focused on your building pleasure to analyze another one of his characteristic changes in disposition. “I’m not interested in being your boyfriend. Or anyone’s boyfriend for that matter.”
You slightly perk up at these words, wondering why it’s so important for him to tell you them  now after he’s already took your clothes off and began fingering you into bliss. You don’t say anything in reply, only moan, hoping he’ll add another finger as he continues his languid movements.
“And if that’s an issue for you,” he continues, his voice grave and deep. “If you can’t fuck me knowing that, then we should stop now.”
To perhaps emphasize how serious he’s being, Leehan takes his finger out from you in one sudden movement, leaving you empty and unsatisfied. It has it’s desired effect because you find yourself sitting up, finally taking real consideration of his words.
“But if you still want me,” he says, the two of you face to face in a way that lets you see the absence of amusement in his expression for the first time since he started talking. “Then dare I say that I’ll look foward to this becoming a regular thing between us. Should you want that, of course.”
He runs a hand through his hair, perhaps expressing a bit of nervousness as he awaits your response to this sudden proposition you’ve been given. Finding it hard to take any of his musings serious, you reach a hand up to cup his cheek. “I mean, you’re not wrong,” you assert with a tilt of your head. “Why settle down when you can fuck anyone you want?”
Immediately understanding what you’re referencing, Leehan smirks. “You heard that?”
“Yeah,” you confirm with a pitying half-smile, “and it almost made every bit of attraction I had for you dry up.”
Even as Leehan smiles shyly, looking down to avoid your gaze, you still don’t get the feeling that he’s at all regretful about what you heard him say. “I mean, was I wrong?” he raises, running his fingers along the skin of your bare leg. “Right now, you’re what I want, and I’m fucking you, aren’t I? Is that not what this is?”
Faced with the reality of Leehan’s advances for the first time, you have a hard time deciding how you feel about the proposition he’s posed. You feel pulled to Leehan in a way you haven’t felt for anyone, ever. And a part of you is disappointed and maybe even a little sad that he’s basically asking you to boil down a dynamic you were curious to watch grow to just detached, casual sex. 
Earlier, when you went bungee-jumping, it stuck with you when Leehan mentioned never having been in love before. Is this why? Because he prefers relationships that are devoid of any true emotional connection?
You could say no and remain friends. You’d be able to watch your relationship play out in a platonic manner. But that would be denying yourself of some of the best sex of your adult life, not to mention the pure herione that is feeling sexually desired and wanted by him.
Faced with such a dilemma, you defer to your instincts. And instinctually, you’re inclined to believe that maybe you and Leehan were meant to meet this way. Before now, you don’t think you would have ever went for someone like Leehan with romantic intentions. 
He’s too wayward, too free-spirited. 
And yet, your paths were brought together in an unlikely way, and perhaps you should lean into the feeling that caused you to follow him into a stranger’s bedroom just a few weeks ago – the promise of mindblowing sex.
“You’re an enigma, Kim Leehan,” you declare with sincerity. “I don’t want to be your girlfriend either. No offense.”
“None taken,” he replies with breezy indifference, bringing his hand to lay over the one you have on his face. “But don’t say that so easily. You don’t know me well enough yet.”
You roll your eyes at yet another show of cockiness from him. “And are you saying if I did, I would fall for you?”
Even as his expression remains passive, he replies forebodingly, “Isn’t that usually how these things end?”
You’re not sure what to make of that statement, so you decide not to respond. “Like I said, I don’t want to be your girlfriend. I do, however, want you to fuck the shit out of me. You’re capable of that, no?”
Leehan stares at you like he’s only now just capturing you and your essence, and his expression is that of someone in awe. It makes your heart and core flutter at the same time. “I really hope you mean it when you say you don’t want to be my girlfriend, Y/N,” he mumbles, and then, he’s leaning in to kiss you.
It’s as if there was never a lapse in intensity as you’re quickly brought back to the passion and vigor from before through the strength of Leehan’s kiss. Sliding his hands underneath your legs, he scoops your entire body up and positions you so that you’re laying down directly underneath him. It’s from there that he takes your shirt off, finding you braless underneath and wasting no time in attaching his mouth to your nipple. 
“You’re so fucking sexy,” he mumbles reverently, hands caressing the sides of your body as he switches from licking at your hardened nipple to talking. “You don’t understand how much I’ve been dreaming about this pussy since I had it.”
You want to tell him how flattering it is to hear that he’s been thinking about you in the time since you last had sex, and express your own desire, but you can’t when two of his fingers return to their previous lodgings in your still sopping wet cunt. He no longer holds back like he did before when he wanted you to hear him speak. Making your pleasure his top priority, he bends his slender digits deep inside of you, thrusting them in and out while you cry out with each brush against your g-spot.
“Does that feel good?” he asks, and if you weren’t so immersed in your own approaching climax, you’d laugh at how genuinely invested he sounds in knowing whether or not he’s doing a good job. To you, it should be more than obvious how well he’s doing by the way you arch your back at every thrust, reaching up to peck his lips but failing to maintain a steady kiss because of your moans. But Leehan’s oddball tendecies and moments of sudden sincerity are too familiar at this point to throw you off – instead, you find it sexy to experience both physically and verbally his commitment to making you feel good.
“Gonna come,” you’re confessing through whimpers just a few moments later, being brought to babbles as Leehan uses his thumb to stimulate your clit. His eyebrows become furrowed as he zeroes in on the pace that has thus far brought you to climax, rather than speeding up. 
What once intimidated you was the way that Leehan thoroughly studies your expressions as you’re experiencing pleasure. His searing eye contact, his unreadablly passionate expression, the way it’s almost as if he’s looking through you rather than at you. And yet, when the intensity of your orgasm begins to travel throughhout your body, the sound of him saying, “Come on my hand,” ringing softly in your ears, it’s through looking in his eyes that things feel increasingly more passionate. 
To feel this sexually connected to someone who up until this point was just a one-night-stand confounds you, and yet leaning in to such connection has led to some of the best orgasms of your life.
“Turn around, pretty girl,” is what he tells you after you’ve come down from your orgasm, and in your eagenerness to get him inside of you, you follow the request without question. Still, remembering his insistence from before about wanting to maintain eye contact when he fucks, you find yourself teasingly asking while facing the bedsheets, “What happened to wanting eye contact?”
“Who said we couldn’t?” he raises playfully in reply, and before you can question what he means, you feel one of his large hands snaking around your body. He pushes at your stomach and hips, helping you into an elevated arch. From here, it’s much easier for you to turn your head around without craning your neck, something you realize as Leehan pulls gently at your hair and meets you for a sloppy kiss.
When he pulls away, you shiver, your body reacting in shock to the attractive gesture. He notices this with a grin and must interpret the reaction as nervousness. “Don’t worry. I don’t bite. Unless you like that?”
“Shut up,” you grumble, laughing as he sits up and releases his hold on your waist. It causes you to fall flat on the bed, where you relax in anticipation as you hear the sounds of him taking his clothes off behind you.
“The fact that you even remembered I said that makes me happy,” he remarks in reference to the eye contact comment, and the sudden sentimentality of that statement makes you feel non-sexual related butterflies towards the man behind you. But your focus is brought back to the sex as he positions himself behind you, gripping onto his shaft and rubbing it along the expanse of your slit. You moan, but then remember that you neglected to think of protection.
“Fuck, I forgot about condoms.”
“Don’t worry. I have some,” he says, and you watch over your shoulder as he goes to rummage through the pockets of his sweatpants, discarded and left on the edge of the bed. 
“Should I ask why you came on this trip prepared for condoms?”
“Because cum makes for the best fish bait,” he replies ironically in response, and you realize then how attracted you must be to Leehan to hear him say these sorts of things completely sincerly and not lose even an ounce of your desire for him. He’s not at all deterred by your lack of reaction to his musings, either. Lining his condom-clothed cock up with your entrance, he asks, “Are you ready, sweet girl?”
If the fact that your entire body was buzzing with arousal wasn’t enough for you to want him to fuck you, the use of that pet name takes you over the edge. “Yes, please.”
“Gonna go slow so you can feel every inch of me,” he informs you fliratiously, pushing inside of you and making true to every part of that promise as you feel every inch, ridge, and vein of his cock as it enters, making you mewl until he’s balls deep. “How’s that?” he asks in search of your approval.
“So, so good Leehan,” you reply, loving the way that you can look back into his eyes and see the same pleasure you’re experiencing etched into his expression, furrowed eyebrows and lip between his teeth as he begins to thrust into you.
He makes a throaty, husky mhmm noise in your ear, something you reciprocate in your own whiny way in reaction to the languid pace he’s set. A hand on the left of your body is used to hold himself up while the other rests on your lower stomach, helping to push you backward on his cock so that the impact of his each thrust is doubled by both of your efforts. The words “You’re perfect. Absolutely fucking perfect,” mumbled into your ear as he fucks you make your entire body stand on end, something about being fucked just right in combination with his poetic way of talking making you absolutely crazy. 
Still maintaining eye contact with you, you feel the warmth of his body leave your back as he sits up fully. You’re almost dismayed until you feel pressure against your asshole, hearing him say, “Do you like it when I play with you here, too?”
“Oh my god, Leehan,” you exclaim in reply, the pressure of his thumb against your ass in combination with his thrusts become too much in the best way. “Don’t stop.”
Leehan doesn’t stop, and in fact, as you hear him lewdly spit on the surface of his hand, his thumb penetrates the tight expanse of your asshole. You moan as the added stiumulation makes your climax feel like it’s coming at you at an even faster rate than before. And Leehan, clearly perceptive to this, says, “Not yet. Beg for it.”
In your desperation to come, you don’t question the next words out of your mouth; in fact, you relish in the way Leehan groans in response to them. “Want you to make me come, Leehan. Please. Wanna feel you come inside of me.”
Continuing the trend of breeding-related teasing, you find that a remark which should be nonsensical considering the condom you both feel him wearing, if anything makes you both more turned on. “Take it then, baby. Coax it out of me,” he tells you, and by the withering sound of his voice, you can tell he’s close to climaxing. In a moment of serendipitous alignment, you find that you too, are dangling over an edge where on the other side is another moment of Earth-shattering pleasure. 
It’s something as simple as a wiggle of his thumb inside of you, a thrust so firm that it almost causes your arch to collapse, that has you reaching the peak of your pleasure. And Leehan, whose pained expression you can see as you never once stop looking behind your shoulder, quickly follows you with a hoarse grunt. There is something just so amorous about reaching that peak together, something like pride and satisfaction and fondness washing over you at once until you’re both collapsing tiredly on the bed next to each other. 
You’re first to break the breathing-filled silence, turning on your side to look at Leehan and finding him more attractive than ever in his post-orgasm state. “I don’t think I’ll ever get over how good you are at that,” you tell him, feeling suddenly inclined to reach out and swipe at the stray pieces of hair on his forehead. You resist if only to maintain the boundary of familiarity that has only loosely been established between the two of you.
But to your surprise, Leehan reaches out to lace his hand into yours, defying any sort of expectation that you shouldn’t continue to remain physically close after sex. He raises both of your arms upward in a trumphant gesture that makes you laugh. “We. How good we are at that,” he remarks correctivley.
He lets your hand go and for a second you both just lay there in comfortable silence, until you realize the entire reason why you’re staying at a hotel six hours away from home. “Wait. What time is it? Did we miss the eclipse?”
Leehan leisurely reaches for his phone on the bedstand, taking a quick glance at the time before bringing the screen it to your view. It’s just a few minutes after 11:30. “Perfect timing, actually,” he says, and then, raising a questioning eyebrow, asks, “Shall we go out together?” 
It is of course, as a result of your utmost predilections, to say yes, so within a few moments you’re both dressed in your previously discarded clothes and headed outside the hotel. 
Even if it was a concern for you, you luckily don’t have to worry about the rest of the group making conclusions about the fact that you arrive together, because you go outside to find that they’re all too focused in finding a good spot to lay out on the grass to get the best view of the approaching eclipse. 
Jaehyun, flamboyant as ever, has Sungho help him onto the hood of his car so that he can get on top and watch it from there. Everyone else either scatters on the grass with blankets or leans against the car. You ultimately settle for watching it behind everyone else, standing in the spce just between the car and the grass.
The eclipse, just as expected, is a beautiful sight. But what excites you more is the moment when you feel someone’s hands snaking around your body and into the front pockets of your shorts. Leehan hugs you from behind, saying nothing as he rests his chin on the top of your head and relaxes into you. Standing in the back of the group, no one else notices the moment between the two of you, which makes it feel that much more special.
As you tilt your head up to confirm it’s him and observe the way he watches the eclipse dreamily, it fills you with thoughts about the budding relationship between you two. You can’t help but think back to the words you overheard him saying earlier in the car.
They were the sentiments of someone who seemingly had no regard for what it meant to share your body with someone for an extended period time, to bare yourself physically and emotionally for the pleasure of another person.
But in your time with Leehan, you’ve never been made to feel that way. Like lightning in a bottle, the chemistry and connection between the two of you is not something that could be manufactured. 
Far from feeling as if you’re too special for this to end, you simply are confident that, even if this grows to be nothing more than sex, the feeling of being wanted and desired by Leehan is too good for you to ever be made discontent.
As you pack up to leave the next day, Leehan lets Riwoo drive his car for a chance to relax instead of having to be alert for six hours. He sits in the backseat with you, and for one final moment of tenderness between the two of you, he spends the entire ride with his head rested against your shoulder, snoring softly as your closeness renders him sleepy and relaxed.
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part 3 coming soon :)
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kingkatsuki · 2 days
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I wasn’t sure where I was going with this but I keep thinking about meeting Kaji at a hardcore show.
I feel like this is gonna turn into a 20k fic if I continue I’m so obsessed😔
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The first time you’d met Kaji Ren you punched him in the face.
A smooth right hook— that truth be told you weren’t even sure you were capable of. Uncertain whether the throb in your fist was worse than the impact on the side of his face, just below his cheekbone as you held your hand to your chest with a pained expression immediately after.
It wasn’t your fault— you’d thought he was the same guy that had been flirting with you all evening inside the dingy dive bar. Leaning over to shout in your ear over the loud riff of bass as you tried to watch the local hardcore band playing on the tiny stage surrounded by flashing lights. Groaning into your drink as you took a step closer to the stage, hoping he’d take the hint but instead he seemed to get even closer. Wondering why the fuck someone would come to a show, just to shout over the music?
Deciding to leave the gig early as you shoved his chest, trying to regain some of the personal space he’d stolen from you as he reached out to grab your wrist. Practically twisting your hand to try and escape his hold as you felt hot tears begin to clump in your lashes from frustration alone— it was always the same fucking story at these hardcore shows where guys thought they could take whatever they wanted, and you were sick of it.
Storming out of the grubby bar and out into the street as you felt the relief of the cold evening air press against your skin. Drying the thin sheen of sweat that layered against your body, before you felt a presence to the side of you and you just swung hard.
You’d expected him to throw a punch back when he stepped closer, like all the other gang men that you met would’ve— but he didn’t. He noticed the way you flinched as he stepped closer, cowering away from him in fear as his eyes softened. Reaching out to clasp warm fingers around your clenched fist as he uncurled your fingers, holding your hand towards him as he judged the tender skin.
“You’d do more damage if you held your fist like this,” He rumbled gruffly, his calloused fingers contorting your hand with such gentle care as he adjusted your thumb to be outside your fingers as he turned your fist vertically, “You won’t fuckin’ hurt yourself like this either.”
It wasn’t even like you were listening anymore, as he encroached your personal space. The musky scent of him mixed with something sickly sweet as you rest your head against the brick wall behind you, trying to remember to breathe.
“They can sense you’re weak,” Kaji continued, “That’s why they think you’re an easy target.”
“I’m not fucking weak.” You practically snarled back at him, although the evidence spoke for itself. But you’d done enough to leave a blooming red mark against his cheek, enough vindication for now.
You were sick and tired of men that thought they could take whatever they wanted, to treat you like shit when you were just trying to get home from work. Having to come up with lies about having a boyfriend, or someone waiting at home when you should’ve been able to simply say you’re not interested—
“You punch like a girl.” The corner of his lips curled into the slightest hint of a smirk as he places his white headphones over his ears, turning to leave.
“I thought you weren’t like all the other assholes, asshole.” You huff.
“Never said it was a bad thing.” He calls back, shoving his hands back inside his hoodie pocket.
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