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elliesflower · 1 year

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i hate u [2]

pt 1 here

word count; 4.2k (don't ask)

cw; angst, top!abby, bottom!r, fingering (r!receiving), dirty talk, crying

an; hiiii, i need this woman in my bed expeditiously. originally i was gonna make abby a switch in this but then it got too long lmao anyways, enjoy! (and find it on ao3 here)

18+ only, mdni!!!!

kissing abby was nothing like you had imagined—not that you’d imagined kissing her, ever, but it was quite possibly the only feeling that has ever mattered. the unmistakable sound of your lips smacking together was utterly indecent in the quiet of your bedroom, much louder than the ever-present hum of the stadium’s generators.

but she was eager, too eager. you both were, all the years spent avoiding each other, and you could have had this? her hand was sliding down, lightly pulling at the soft hairs at the back of your neck. you gasped, the sensation lighting you on fire, panting into her mouth, you couldn’t help it, you were whining, “abby,” and it was barely a whisper but she heard you—peppering kisses to your top lip, the corner of your mouth, your cheek, down to your jaw, she was nodding in agreement.

“m’ sorry,” she mumbled into your neck, and you shivered, your body instinctively pressing into hers. her hand came around to rest at your lower back and she pressed you closer still, continuing her exploration of your skin.

“you said that already,” you breathed, leaning your head back and closing your eyes, because there was no way this was happening, right? you’d wake up tomorrow and be alone in your bed, and this will be nothing more than a passing thought, an insane dream to add to the tally. but it was like abby could read your mind, she was desperate to make you feel just how real this really was, snaking her hand further around your middle so that she was nearly lifting you off the ground.

your hands flew out to find purchase on her shoulders, nails making crescent indents in her freckled skin. “still sorry,” she said again, punctuating it with a wet kiss to your cheek, before pressing her forehead into yours. she felt sticky with perspiration, her breath was jagged and slow as she squeezed her eyes closed. god, it was impossible to tell what she was thinking as you watched her, your heavy breathing matching hers while you stood there in the middle of your room. in the middle of abby. in the middle of every fucked up thing the two of you have ever said to each other and oh, was it supposed to be this hard?

“do you forgive me?” she asked suddenly, and her eyes opened. you stared at her, feeling her breath fan across your face, your lips tingling almost as much as your brain.

do you forgive her?

you do, you think—but how could you let it come out like this? pressed against her, the weight of her hands at your back making you squirm, your heart and your head and your stomach were all telling you a different lie and you didn’t know who to believe. so you said nothing instead, ignoring the stinging behind your eyes and feverishly pressing your lips against hers once again.

she tasted sort of like mint, a little bit like guilt, but also like your favorite flavor. she relinquished her hold on your back, moving her hands to rest at your hips, thumbs tracing circles on the delicate skin there—it made you shiver, made you gasp once more into her mouth, and she used your surprise to guide you backwards, walking you to what you could only assume was your bed, messy and unmade from the morning.

“do you forgive me?” she was asking again, between kisses, between gently helping you lower onto the bed, between a rock and a hard place. you felt like crying, you felt like saying yes, you felt like letting her take you apart, to hell and back, and it sure felt like you’d never needed anything more than you needed her in this exact moment.

you nodded as abby pulled away, you couldn’t say it out loud, and her lips were glistening and swollen, parted slightly as she sat down on the bed next to you. her braid was messy, baby hairs sticking to her forehead as she leaned toward you. you crossed your legs on the bed, facing her, and swallowed hard, your body fueled with anticipation, with lust, with the filthy thoughts that you couldn’t shake from your mind—not when she was looking at you like…that.

“do you, though?” she asked, placing a hand on your cheek, thumb swiping away a tear you hadn’t even noticed. you nodded fervently, hand reaching up to grab her forearm, holding it in place. “i need to hear you say it.”

you had to close your eyes again, you couldn’t dare to look her in the eye, god, this was embarrassing—she forgave you. just like that. why is it so hard for you? she moved her hand so that it was pinching your chin lightly, tilting your head up so that you’d have to look at her.

not fair.

you blinked up at her through your wet lashes, and her thumb reached up to gently pull at your bottom lip, instantly sending heat pooling in your core. you tried not to show it on your face, but abby was searching, fighting to get an answer out of you.

“i won’t do this with you if you don’t talk to me,” her tone was gentle, but you still felt restless. you were amped up, from the fighting, the tears, the anger, the desire. somehow the feelings were identical—love and hate. the only difference was the circumstance.

“do what with me?” there went your mouth again, moving before you could think. abby almost smiled, the corner of her mouth twitching ever-so-slightly. her eyes flickered down to your mouth, and then back, and her thumb pressed slightly harder into your lip, prying it open.

“don’t play dumb,” she said, and now, she did smile—but it didn’t seem so nice this time.

“i want this,” you couldn’t help it, you were reaching for her again, grabbing her hand and pulling it into your lap. you intertwined your fingers, looking down at your joined hands, and it didn’t feel real. “i want you.” but you couldn’t look at her still, playing with her hand in yours, heartbeat practically ringing in your ears.

“yeah?” abby scooted closer to you, slipping her hand out of your grasp, and you looked at her again, eyes dark and full of lust. she leaned down to slip off her own boots, and you took a deep breath, nodding when she looked back up at you. you did want this. you wanted her, in any way she would have you, in any way you could possibly get.

“i forgive you,” you decided, and this time, it was with certainty. your voice unwavering, your eyes clear, your heart full, and that set something in abby on fire. for a split second, her nostrils flared, and then she was on you in an instant, taking you by surprise when she clamored onto the bed, pressing your shoulders back so that you landed on the mattress with a soft grunt. she held herself up with one arm, staring down at you, and you suddenly felt vulnerable all over again, squirming under the scrutiny of her piercing gaze. her face was mere inches away from your own, and you stopped to admire her for a moment, in a way you could never before. sure, you’d looked at her before, but you’ve never really looked at her—not like this.

her pupils were dilated, yet her face held an unusual gentleness. freckles littered her skin like constellations, and you wanted to map them all, wanted to feel her, all of her, so you started to, reaching up and pressing a hand to her face, just like she’d done to you. all her walls were gone, unrestrained, and there was no mistaking her heavy lids and flushed skin for anything other than salacity. the thought alone of what was to come had you pressing your thighs together, once again wondering how she managed to do so much to you without ever saying a single word.

“you sure about that?” the blonde asked suddenly, her breath ghosting over your face as she spoke. you almost rolled your eyes out of habit, but settled for a scoff instead. of course she knew you were sure—she just couldn’t help herself, could she?

“if you expect me to grovel, you’re kindly mistaken,” you quipped, dropping your hand.

“last i checked, i kinda feel like i have the upper hand, here,” abby smirked, one of her knees slotting between your legs, and you actually gasped, that motherfucker. the pressure against your core was delicious, albeit there were a few too many layers of clothing in the way. you tried not to let the pleasure show on your face, determined that she couldn’t break you—not now, not after all the time you’ve had to spend proving yourself to her.

“fuck you, abby,” you said, but this time, you didn’t mean it. and she knew that, smirking down at you as she shifted her leg up higher, silencing what would have been an absolutely embarrassing moan with a kiss.

it was almost like she couldn’t control herself. she was greedy now, all tongue and teeth, her mouth incessant and wet, saliva connecting your mouths each time she pulled away briefly to allow you to breathe—not that you needed any breath, really you thought you’d be fine if you never breathed on your own again. you wanted her breath, you wanted her—couldn’t help the grinding of your clothed pussy over the expanse of her muscular thigh, couldn’t help the whisper of jesus, fuck- that spilled from your lips when she began to trail her tongue down your neck, to your chest, all the way down until she was lifting your shirt up, helping you wrangle it off, and pressing her mouth onto the bare skin just above your navel.

you looked down at her just as she darted her tongue out to lap gently at your stomach, and you swore you could have cried right then and there, reaching your hand out to grip her hair as you arched into her touch, a shiver shooting down your spine at the ticklish sensation.

“god, do you ever take out this stupid braid?” you hissed as your fingers got caught in one of the plats, and she had the nerve to laugh, pressing another kiss to your middle before sitting up on her knees, leaving you needy and exposed below her, your nipples hardening against the cool air in the room.

“aw, someone been fantasizing about me with my hair down?” she taunted, but she got the hint, because she took out her hair-tie regardless, sliding it down to her wrist.

“fuck off,” you retorted, though your body flooded hot at the mockery, partially because yes, she was right, you sometimes did wonder about what she looked like with her hair down—not sure if you’d call that, fantasizing, though—and mostly because abby had always taunted you, fucked around with you, frustrated you to the point of tears, but never in a sexual way. and the thought both terrified and excited you as you envisioned what was to come.

it didn’t really matter right now though, you thought as you sat up on your elbows, because she was undoing her braid, the wavy, golden locks cascading down her shoulders once freed, and you choked back yet another moan at the sight.

“abby…” you breathed, sitting up farther so that you could touch it. the moment had gone soft, like her hair, it was so soft, and smelled like coconut, fuck how have you never seen her with her hair down, after all these years? she was smiling, but you could see the faint blush that was creeping up her neck under your gaze.

“is my hair down a turn-on for you?”

yes. you swallowed.

“no.”

she laughed, and you had to fight your own grin, twisting a strand of her hair around your finger. “shut up,” you grumbled, sitting up on your knees to match her, pressing your hands against her chest softly, playing with the neckline of her shirt. you felt her muscles tense under your touch as she gazed down at you, and you were suddenly aware of just how much…larger she was than you. the thought made you shiver, and you were once again aware of the wetness between your legs.

“can i take this off?” you asked, voice coming out quiet and shy. abby nodded, leaning down to press a kiss to your forehead. you took a breath, reaching down to help her pull it off, and you could have fainted at the sight. you knew she was built, but fuck. you couldn’t help but reach out and touch her skin, trailing your fingers from the band of her thin white bra down to her navel.

“bet you’ve been waiting for this, huh?” she asked, abs flexing slightly under the touch of your hand, and no matter how badly you wanted to make some sarcastic comment back, you felt like a person possessed, nodding with enthusiasm, impure thoughts flooding your brain—but another “shut up,” was all you could manage, breathless and benevolent, wanting to feel more of her.

“should have known,” she spoke lowly now, her tone just this side of nice, “all that teasing, all those mean comments,” she said, and your stomach twisted in anticipation as her eyes narrowed. god, she was looking at you like you were a piece of meat, and no, that shouldn’t have been turning you on even more, but oh, she was guiding you back down to the mattress before fumbling with the button of your jeans.

“it was just frustration,” abby said, her tone suddenly casual for the extremely sensual way she was undoing your pants.

“the fuck are you talking about, anderson?” you griped, reaching down to help her pull your pants all the way off, and you became acutely aware of how your excitement had seeped through your panties, the sudden rush of air against them making you shiver.

“i’m saying, i get it now,” she continued, using her big hands to spread your thighs apart, rubbing circles into your skin with her thumbs, observing you. “you were just frustrated over what you couldn’t have.”

“are you fucking kidding m-”

but there was no time to retort, no time to do much of anything before she was pressing a thumb to your thinly veiled clit, causing you to cry out in shock. you couldn’t look at her, you had to throw your head back onto the pillow and cover your eyes in shame, legs closing around her arm instinctively.

“ah ah,” she reprimanded, using a hand to spread your legs back apart, and fuck, she was strong. not that it would have taken much convincing, anyways. “let me see.” her thumb pressed against your sensitive core, making a dull ache in your stomach, making you gasp and moan under her touch.

“yeah that’s it,” she rasped, and you swear in that moment you were seeing stars, fucking shameful, isn’t it? that she had barely even started to touch you and you were practically gone already. so much for not breaking. “i know this is what you’ve been wanting. what you’ve been needing…”

“abby, please,” please what, you weren’t sure. please stop talking, please keep talking, please don’t fucking stop, and you’d blame it on the desire, the ache to be touched, anything to admit you weren’t coming undone this quickly under her teasing rhythm.

“such good manners, where have those been?” she was fucking mocking you now, abruptly stopping her ministrations in favor of grabbing the waistband of your underwear, pulling them down with such ease you were worried for a moment they might rip.

“fuck you,” you managed, and it just didn’t have that same weight to it anymore—not when abby had you like this, naked and breathless and sweaty below her. she smiled at you, and it was wicked, eyes dark and hair wild around her face.

“why don’t you show me some more of those good manners,” she said, eyes transfixed on the wetness between your legs, pushing your thighs apart lightly. “open up.”

somehow, your legs were spreading almost like she’d cast some sort of spell on you, her words going straight to your head and taking over your body, doing anything to make her get closer, to make her touch you, to fuck you.

“tell me you want this,” her voice was quiet and serious, the sound of it scrambling your brain--her fingers, dancing across your skin, from your hips, to your thighs, squeezing gently at the soft flesh as she locked eyes with you.

“you gonna make me beg?” you questioned, inhaling sharply at her touch.

“never said that,” she shrugged, abruptly moving her hand and running her index finger down your slit, and it was nearly disgraceful how easily her finger glided, coated with your slick—you gasped at the sensation, gripping the bedsheets in your fists. “just wanna hear you say it.”

“you’re insufferable,” you groaned, closing your eyes as she began stroking her finger agonizingly slowly between your folds, and god you could fucking hear how wet you were. it would have been embarrassing, and perhaps, it was a little bit--but she didn’t need to know that thought was turning you on even more.

“guess i don’t really need to hear it,” abby continued. “i can just tell by how fucking wet you are.” it was like she was in your brain, somehow, your hips were bucking into her touch and shying away at the same time. you looked down your body at her and watched the way she looked at you, with such hunger and intensity, and it took everything in you to hold back, to force yourself to stay away from the edge—no way you’d let her have that satisfaction.

“still’d be nice,” she pressed on, dipping her finger just slightly into your pussy, drawing a moan from your throat, which you quickly muffled with the back of your hand.

“abby,” you whispered against your hand, trying to move your hips just so that her finger would slide in--it probably would, you were so fucking eager, and she knew it too, the way she watched your face twist in pleasure, your mouth falling open as she teased your entrance. you chanced a look down at her, and her lips were painted with that smug fucking smirk.

“you fucking asshole,” you whined when you realized she was serious. “abby, i swear to god-” you were quickly cut off, practically choking on your words as she slid a thick finger inside, curling it just right so that she could pull out of your dripping cunt with an obscene squelching noise.

“what happened to your manners?” she questioned, withdrawing her fingers completely, cocking her head to the side. “c’mon, lemme hear it,” and you were writhing on the bed, heart racing, your breathing labored, stomach twisting in knots, sweat making the bed sheets stick to your backside.

“abby,” you spoke her name, for maybe the hundredth time that night, but you couldn’t help it. fell off your lips like a prayer, tears welling in your eyes as you gazed up at her strong frame, towering over you in the bed. you were at her mercy, whether you liked it or not--but you really did like it, maybe even loved it, your thighs sticky with your juices as you pressed your knees together, desperate for any kind of pressure after she pulled away.

“it’s just three little words,” abby pressed, smoothing her hands up the expanse of your thighs before dipping her thumb back in between the heat of your legs, the pressure against your sensitive bud making you gasp and open up to allow her better access. “i wanna make you feel good. don’t you want that?” it was accentuated with a languid stroke of her thumb, heavy and demanding, and there was no getting out of this--she had a direct line to your brain, flipping a switch with her touch and making you desperate, making your back arch as you tried to hold on to reality, but it was no use. you wanted her, so badly, too badly, you were breaking and fucking- christ abby, your fingers, you were babbling, practically incoherent, but you wanted her to fuck me, please, i-i want it, please,

“that’s it, that’s what i thought,” two fingers were slipping inside you with such ease that you felt mortified for a moment, before you were seeing stars, groans and grunts and unintelligible words being fucked out of you. abby’s fingers moved inside you expertly, like she knew you already, and did she just fucking moan? “fucking filthy, god-” she was leaning over you now, hair falling around her face so that it just tickled your belly as she fucked you, taking you apart. her eyes were ablaze, cheeks red as she panted above you, getting off to just the feeling, you couldn’t look at her, your stomach was tightening and oh no, no, no, she’d barely started--your hole was tightening around her fingers, making the drag of her fingers just that much better, or worse, or something else all together.

“god, you’re fucking tight,” abby groaned as she sped up her fingers, “fucking made for my fingers, taking them so good,” the palm of her hand tapping against your swollen clit with each stroke. you were gone, too gone, but not gone enough to know you were fight fucking there,

“abby, don’t stop, don’tyoufuckingdarestop,” it was pathetic, really--the tears streaming down your face, the way your hand flew out to grip her wrist, pinning her in place as you felt the world disappearing from your mind, m’gonna- fucking cum, your mouth falling open as you locked eyes with her, watching her arm flex as she brought you to your peak and oh--

the world went white for a moment, but you could feel it at the same time, could feel the way your pussy absolutely drenched abby’s hand, could feel the way she stroked you through it, murmuring praises as she pressed against that sensitive spot, causing your hips to stutter as you came down.

abby pulled her fingers out of you slowly, and you whimpered, suddenly overcome with a strong feeling of emptiness--both physically and mentally. your breathing was shaky and prominent, brain foggy and body spent. you felt the bed shifting and looked down to see abby with a soft smile on her face, wiping your wetness off onto her pant leg. you quickly averted your eyes, closing them as you pressed your fingertips to your temples, trying to force back whatever emotion was bubbling up at literally the most inconvenient time.

“hey, what’s going on?” abby’s voice was riddled with concern, and you felt her slide up the bed next to you, close enough that you could feel the heat radiating off her body, her breathing matching yours. you shook your head bashfully, refusing to look at her. there were ten million thoughts running through your mind, but the main one being:

i just let abigail anderson fuck me.

“m’sorry,” you were apologizing, though you didn’t even know what for, for crying? for ruining the moment?

“sorry for what?” she was pressing, a hand coming to tug at your wrist. “hey, look at me, please,” there was an edge to her voice, almost desperate. you drew a deep breath, wiping away your tears and turning your head toward her. her eyes were full of worry, brow creased slightly as she watched your face. you looked at her for a moment longer before you couldn’t anymore, diving into her neck, pressing your body against hers with fervor. her skin was hot and sticky with perspiration, her heart beating wildly against your face as you pressed it against her, snaking an arm around her middle.

“this changes everything,” you whispered, almost scared to admit it to yourself. she rubbed a warm hand up and down the bare skin of your back soothingly, but you weren’t expecting the laugh that rumbled from her chest.

“well, i would sure hope so.”

you pulled back slightly, glaring at her as best as you could with eyes full of tears and your bottom lip quivering.

“listen,” she smiled softly at you, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear. “of course this changes everything. but doesn’t it change it for the better?” she asked. “unless you’re trying to tell me i’m a terrible lay,” and you had to laugh, pleasantly subdued, for the moment.

“it is for the better,” you mumbled, trying to make your way back into her neck, but she kept you pinned where she would see your face.

“then, what’s the problem?”

“change is hard,” you whispered, the tears stinging in your eyes again. this time, she let you back into her warmth, cradling an arm around your head as she stroked your hair gently. the room was on fire, abby’s scent overwhelming you as you felt her breath evening out.

“i’ll make it easier.”

“how?” you asked, slightly muffled into her skin.

“i just…will.”

and somehow, it sounded like a promise.

#abby anderson #abby anderson smut #abby anderson x reader #abby x reader #abby anderson x you #abby x you #abby tlou #the last of us pt 2

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ohsunnyboy · 9 months

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steal your night (part 1) | sung hanbin ˚₊‧⁺˖

you never knew you had a boyfriend until sung hanbin eats your tiramisu and steals your heart under the stars of monaco

SERIES: a night in monaco — one, two

TAGS: fake dating, strangers to lovers, business man!hanbin, gn!reader, flirty hanbin and you ehe, meet cute <3, summer vibes

A/N: sorry for the disappearance lmao take my hanbin pining as an apology, and as always, purely self indulgent

WORDS: ~1300

Trouble comes when dessert is served.

Everything considered, it’s horrible timing. Sun setting just so over the Mediterranean, hearty chatter firing all around in all sorts of languages and your wine being warm company on a supposedly lonely night. It makes a perfect set-up as your spoon hovers mid-air as you prepare to dig into some well-deserved tiramisu.

Until someone slides into the very empty seat across from you, slips a crisp black business card across the table to you – it reads 'Sung Hanbin' – and uttering the most insane thing yet: "Love, I'm so sorry for being late!"

What.

You barely get to say anything before he's swooping in for la bise. As you lean in, his expensive cologne lingers like smoke in the air. It's a narrow dodge of your lips, but he swerves and lands a quick kiss to your right cheek and then dares to go for a second on your left. Consider yourself stunned because all you do is watch him pull away and a grin at you with a gorgeous smile.

You want to sit and gape for a second, let yourself breathe, and now with a longer look, let him breathe.

This, Hanbin, has flushed cheeks and is twitchy with how he holds your hand – when did that happen?! – across the table. There's a light sheen of sweat on his skin and not due to the heat, more like he's either embarrassed or nervous about this. He breathes in short, sharp gasps as if he's been running and mouths something to you.

Please play along. His hand still holds yours, and he squeezes just so.

Hanbin turned his head to the right slightly. Stood at a table near the entrance was a woman with a flowy silver dress on and hair pulled into quite a severe bun. Her pointed heels tapping on the spot and her jittery eyes glance over at you two, but quickly look somewhere else when she catches your curious gaze.

“She’s been trying to get me to buy her a meal all day,” he sighs. “Thing is, I even saw her scoping me out yesterday at a bar last night. I was naïve enough to buy her a drink to start some conversation, but she’s taken it as personal permission to stalk me. She clearly hasn’t gotten the memo.” And he squeezes your hand again, this time to comfort himself.

“What about me? What if I turn out to be some crazy that’s out to steal your Amex and claim my fifth husband?”

“You? No way, you have a top shelf wine and a second plate of tiramisu in front of you already. You're doing perfectly fine without my money," Hanbin lists before his gaze turns considering. "Unless... you weren't lying about the husbands.”

You laugh into your wine and eye Hanbin over the rim. "You wouldn’t look too bad in a wedding tux, pretty boy, who knows?”

The long column of Hanbin’s neck is exposed thanks to the open collar of his shirt. Revealing the delicate sun, moon and star on his collar that only keeps you stuck in wonder for longer.

You can only imagine how smooth the skin feels – under your hands and lips – but maybe that’s the wine talking when he sits there fine and handsome against the candlelight. The sunset paints saturated hues against his skin, you can barely see the blush that peeks above his collar thanks to it.

If you friends were here, you know what they’d say about him: trouble, hot and wealthy trouble.

“Eyes up here, love.” Your eyes leap back up to Hanbin’s to only see amusement in them. Getting caught flushes your face with heat but his eyes are dark enough to forget yourself in.

You try to push on, clearing your throat and pulling yourself together. “So, the deal is we act like lovers the rest of the night?” The weight of the word lovers is a syrupy one, overtly sweet and something far from familiar for you but Hanbin only smiles at it.

“Of course, love. Shouldn’t be too hard with someone as sweet as you,” he grins however his eyes still linger on that woman in silver, clearly on edge.

You drum your fingers on the table, the rush of meeting each other melting quickly in the air. Awkward tension is bound to seep in soon and you'll be damned if it does! you're not losing this chance no matter how much trouble this man could be.

A stroke of brilliance brings you to push forward your untouched plate of tiramisu over to him, careful with the spoon balancing precariously on the plate. “What?” you smile at his confused face. “I wasn’t eating it anyway and you need a distraction.” But he just raises his brows like he doesn't believe it.

At his reluctance, you sigh and begin to flag down a waitress.

“Hey! Hey, don’t kick me out please—I’ll eat it!… even pay for it!—” Hanbin flusters even further as you push a finger against his soft lips to shut him up as the waitress arrives.

It’s a beat of silence.

“Two more tiramisus, please.” Hanbin’s laugh of disbelief trails the waitress as she leaves.

What you do find out is that it’s stupidly easy to talk to Hanbin. You tell him why you’re even here in Monaco: about your crazy best friends marrying after years of adventures, about being the responsible one in a group of misfits, about growing up and never quite finding the one unlike how they did. Loneliness is a familiar tale on your tongue, the wine tinging everything you say with bitter honesty you’ve never been able to let out with anyone else.

With Hanbin, you learn about his job as a business consultant: his annoying – but endearing! – juniors Yujin and Gyuvin, how him and Zhang Hao – his other colleague – are out here for strictly business. Until of course, he met you.

“What are your doing out here so alone, anyway?” he probed. He’s so much closer now, having moved his chair to be next to you instead of opposite you. “You’re too pretty to be single but I really hope you are.”

You shrug off the flirting for once and let yourself disappear back into the chair. “Everyone else I know are in relationships so they’re all away on dates across the city. I figured stealing myself away on a self-date would be better than sitting lonely in a hotel room all night.”

He hums, a low and melodic thing. You can feel the heat of him next to you, the weight of his presence and the cut of his cologne all over again. Though nothing prepares you when Hanbin takes your hand in his.

He raises it, gentle and kind, slow and despairing, and presses his lips to your ring finger.

"Well then, may I steal your night?" he asks like a dare. A whisper barely heard but shared between you two.

Eyes far too low and gaze far too heavy for a look between strangers. The implications are clearer than the night sky above. Hanbin's lips linger with a smirk, and you can feel everything in you screaming to look away before you melt into the floor but all you can do is stare.

Trouble. Is what your mind is screaming. It's what you really want after all this pining in silence. Someone to crash into your life and take you with them.

"You don't even know my name."

It comes out like an accusation. Trouble, trouble, trouble. It brings you here and leaves you dizzy, craving for more.

"Why would I need it, love. You'll be saying mine all night.”

The woman is long gone into the night so there's no need for this play-pretend. But trouble looks you in the eyes and you kiss him with a heart that yearns for more.

ahjbsdkh thanks so much for reading <33 i had a lot of fun writing this so a like and reblog would be nice if you enjoyed :] ⭒ masterlist ⭒ part two ->

#or hanbin is irresistible #zerobase1 #sung hanbin #sung hanbin x reader #zb1 #zb1 x reader #kpop #kpop fanfic #fake dating #zb1 imagines #sung hanbin fluff #zb1 drabbles #sunny forecast: reading weather #fanfiction #kpop x reader #sung hanbin fic #zerobase1 fics #zerobaseone

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notsoattractivearenti · 7 months

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Two and A Half Men (Christian Pulisic x Fem!Reader x Weston McKennie)

WC: 1.1K

Warnings: none

A/N: ok i'm not sure how to put it properly in the title without looking like a threesome group LMAO but in this fic Christian is reader's partner and Weston is both reader and Chris' best friend. and i'm aware Christian is holding a ball in the cover pic but imagine it’s a baby instead! this one is probably meh but i've been thinking about this idea all day and just had to write it down. hope you guys enjoy and i’d love to hear your thoughts thru ask/reply/reblog 💗 apologies for any errors! feedbacks are highly appreciated 🤍

—

“Knock knock… Can I come in?”

You see Weston’s head peeking through the slightly-opened door, respectfully waiting for you and Christian to let him in.

You wave your hand from the hospital bed to invite him to come inside. Wes carefully opens then closes the door, and quietly walks toward you. You see him bringing two bags of something in one of his hands but you can’t figure out whatever those may be.

“Hey, Y/N!” He gives you a big hug. “How are you feeling, my friend?”

“Hi Wes! Very exhausted, of course, but all good. Thanks for checking in.” You respond weakly.

“Oh I figured!” He laughs. “Christian told me you were in labor for almost 24 hours??? That’s wild! I don’t think I could be as strong as you were!”

You chuckle with a faint smile written on your face. You weren’t lying when you said you are very exhausted – it was a very long and painful process you had to go through to bring your child into the world. But no matter how insanely tiring the labor was, you loved every second of it and would do it all over again.

“Yeah… Wild indeed. Totally worth it, though.”

“By the way,” Weston hands you one of the bags he brought earlier, “I got you sushi. I know you love them and you couldn’t have even one during your pregnancy, so I believe you deserve some.”

“No way! Thank you Wes!” You excitedly unpack the bag and open one of the three boxes of sushi Weston gave you. You haven’t eaten one in nine months, and right now it’s like those delicious sushi are begging you to eat them right away – and obviously you can’t resist it.

“Ugh, sushi is overrated.” Christian scoffs.

—

Christian just came back from changing your baby’s diaper in the other room. He is holding your little bundle of joy in his arms – since he was just born, Christian has already become so protective of him he didn’t want the baby to ever leave his arms.

“Hush, C, no one needs to hear your trashy opinion.” You playfully clap back at his statement.

Your banter cracks Weston up. He cackles and you both do a high five.

“Ha-ha! Burn bro!”

Christian squints and shakes his head. He is more than happy to know that his best pal and his life partner are best friends, but sometimes when you two “gang up” on him – which happens really often, because you both love to make fun of Christian together – he would feel so outnumbered and get quite annoyed by it.

“Hmm, I’m not loving this dynamic, you know.” Christian says sarcastically.

“Oh boohoo, don’t be so bitter, white man.” Weston mocks him in response.

“Anyway, what’s up, new dad!?” Weston greets Christian then does the usual handshake with him – but since Christian is currently holding your baby, they do the one-hand version of the handshake.

“Happier than ever bro! I’m living the dream!” Christian gushes.

“Aww, congratulations my brother!” Weston excitedly pats Christian’s back.

Christian gently supports the baby's head and back with his hands then slightly lifts the baby closer to his face.

“Here, we want you to meet our son, Finley Mark Pulisic. You can call him Finn for short.” Christian officially introducing your little man to his best buddy.

Weston is immediately in awe of Finn. His eyes were instantly locked on the face of the cutest little human he has ever seen.

“Wow, dude, he is so precious…” Weston murmurs. “You’re so lucky. man”

“Yeah, I know.” Christian replies.

His eyes are also very much set on Finn, admiring how adorable his little one truly is. For him, “lucky” is an understatement. He feels like he has hit the jackpot with the family life he’s now living, and would not want to change even the littlest thing.

Weston feels the urge to caress Finn’s little chubby cheeks with his finger, but he doesn't want to cross any boundaries so he asks for Christian’s permission before doing anything.

“May I feel his cheeks?”

“Yeah, of course.” Christian allows him to do so.

Weston gently caresses Finn’s cheeks and his heart suddenly feels like it is exploding.

“Oh my God, why is he this soft!? These fluffy cheeks are to die for! He is so cute!” Weston just blurts his thoughts out.

You – who is currently busy eating sushi that Weston brought for you on the bed – laugh when you hear what Weston said. It is clear to you that he has become Finn’s number one fan.

“What can I say, I did make one hell of a cute baby.” You chime in.

“We. We made a cute baby.” Christian jokingly corrects you.

You roll your eyes, blow a raspberry at him, then continue eating.

“Yeah, no, Finn’s cuteness is definitely all Y/N. Like, one hundred percent Y/N.”

Of course Weston is taking your side, he just wants to get into Christian’s nerve.

“Yea, yea, yea, whatever.” Christian mutters.

—

Christian’s arms get tired from carrying the baby for quite some time, so he puts Finn down on his crib next to your bed. At the same time, Weston feels like he is forgetting something, so he looks around and realizes he brought another takeout food for Christian. He quickly grabs the bag to hand it to Christian.

“Oh, Chris, I brought you some burritos,” Weston hands the other bag to Christian, “they are not from Chipotle, but you gotta eat, bro.”

Christian chortles.

“You don’t need to do that, but thanks a lot bro.”

“Anything for my favorite new parents.” Weston winks and funnily does the finger guns at us.

“You know what Chris? I just thought about this: now that you have a son, we’re like two and a half men. Like, you and I are the two and Finn is the half. How awesome is that?” Weston randomly tells Christian about this thought that crosses his mind.

You were listening to Weston’s random thoughts and already feeling left out – obviously you are not being serious – you voice your protest to him.

“Hey! What about me? Where am I fitting in on this scenario?”

“You will be the one who gave birth to the half man!” Weston laughs.

You’re confused as you don’t find that funny, but you think you should just play along.

“Eh,” you shrug, “whatever.”

“You two can raise Finn together then.” You acted upset.

“Y/N, please, don’t be mad…” Weston pretends to beg for your mercy.

“You and I both know anyone is better at parenting than Christian, right?”

“Come on guys,” Christian groans, “stop bullying me!”

—

taglist: @pulisicsgirl @neverinadream @swimmingismywholelife @chilwellspulisic @bracedes @lovelynikol16 @thoseboysinblue @lizzypotter14 @masonsrem @landoslover

#christian pulisic #christian pulisic x reader #christian pulisic x y/n #christian pulisic x fem!reader #christian pulisic x you #christian pulisic fic #christian pulisic imagines #christian pulisic fanfic #weston mckennie #weston mckennie fic #weston mckennie imagines #weston mckennie fanfic #footballer x reader #footballer x y/n #footballer x you #footballer fic #footballer imagines #footballer fanfic

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mypoisonedvine · 2 years

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𝙼𝙴𝙴𝚃 𝚃𝙷𝙴 𝙼𝚄𝙽𝚂𝙾𝙽𝚂 - chapter 4: photograph.

𝚜𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚜 𝚖𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝

𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚜𝚞𝚖𝚖𝚊𝚛𝚢 - eddie is characteristically transparent about how much fun he's having ruining your life, but you're more guarded than ever as your true feelings become harder and harder to deny.

𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚍 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝 - 4.6k

𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜 - accidental touching of... personal areas lmao, an inconvenient erection, male masturbation, dirty magazines, mention of semi-public sex, ever so slightest hint of voyeurism (but instead of seeing it's hearing?), more of reader's issues getting revealed, eddie being sliiiightly pervy at times but mostly just making dirty jokes

You blinked your eyes open, squinting against a blurry view of the living room cast in that pale light of the early morning. For a second, you wondered why you were here, until the events of last night came back all at once.

Dreamt about Dad. Moved to the couch. Watched TV. Eddie showed up…

Eddie, right. Your eyes glanced to the side, remembering he’d been sitting under your feet, but he was gone now. You sighed slightly, gaze moving back to Barry the bear who was wrapped up in your arms close to your chest. You gave him a kiss on the head, only then remembering that was the same place Eddie kissed him yesterday.

The TV was still on, just near-silent static now, and knew Eddie wouldn’t have left for school yet— maybe he just went back to bed, you couldn’t blame him for that. There was this weird feeling in your stomach, it was almost like… no. You didn’t miss him, right? That would be beyond bizarre.

‘Cause, you know, it’s Eddie— loud and obnoxious and invasive and annoying. He didn’t always smell springtime fresh, either, even forgetting the cigarettes (which you couldn’t forget anyways, because he always came home reeking of them). He made a mess in your room, he made fun of you, he made you feel weird and strange and you really didn’t like feeling anything. So, yeah, it would be pretty odd to miss Eddie just because he left the couch at some point after you fell asleep. Shit, I should make sure he didn’t draw on my face with marker or something, you realized, because that seemed like exactly his move— but just then, the clock struck six. That only matters because it meant that the six o’clock news began, which only matters because you must have sat on the remote or something— it was insanely loud, startling you out of your skin.

“TOP OF THE HOUR, THIS IS THE SIX A.M. NEWS—” the anchor bellowed, the loud chime of the station’s news hour just as deafening, and you let out a scream instinctively in reaction to the sudden noise. You were trying to find the remote so you could turn it down or even just off, but your legs had fallen asleep at some point during the night on this tiny couch, and, well, you weren’t especially coordinated in the wee hours of the morning, just scared out of still being half asleep…

And that was how you fell off the couch.

Correction: that was how you fell off the couch and onto Eddie.

“Mornin’, sunshine,” Eddie greeted with a purr as he grinned up at you, hands settling on your hips as you realized what that firm heat against your thigh, through his pajama pants and the thin blanket on his lap, actually was.

Several things happened at once, then. You swatted Eddie’s hand off of your hips, face starting to burn with embarrassment; Eddie found the remote and muted the TV; and Wayne came storming in in just his stained undershirt and boxers, clearly still half-asleep yet emphatically wielding a baseball bat.

“What’s goin’ on?!” he slurred.

“Nothing— nothing!” you insisted.

“Heard you scream!” Wayne explained. “And there was— a man’s voice?”

“That was just the news, gramps,” Eddie informed him with a smirk. “You thought Chuck Anderson broke into our house?”

Wayne leaned in and peeked at the TV, seeing the aforementioned anchorman silently explaining some important news story, and sighed. “Sorry, I just— what did you scream for?”

He looked at you both, and raised an eyebrow. It seemed that that was the moment everyone collectively realized you were still straddling Eddie’s lap; you jumped up and off of him in a blink, pulling your nightgown down to cover your thighs.

“I— it was— it’s not— we didn’t—” you started over probably a thousand times before Eddie finally saved you.

“She was startled by the news coming on,” Eddie explained to Wayne, who relaxed a bit and lowered the bat with a nod. “Guess you’re both a couple of scaredy-cats.”

“Yeah, guess so,” Wayne agreed. “G’morning, by the way.”

“Sorry I woke you up,” you blinked quickly, holding your arms across your chest.

“S’fine, sweetheart,” he shook his head. “I’m… I’ll just go back to bed…”

And he wandered back to the master bedroom, you and Eddie waiting with bated breath until you heard his door shut; Eddie sighed through a grin as he looked up at you, sitting on the carpet with his upper body propped up by his hands behind his hips. “He likes you way more than he likes me,” Eddie informed you, “if I woke him up like that before he had to go to work, he’d start yelling about how I need to quiet down, boy!”

You weren’t paying attention to any of that, including his impression of Wayne’s more pronounced accent— instead, you swung your leg and kicked Eddie on the arm, making him yelp and grab his bicep.

“Hey!” he frowned at you.

“Fuck are you doing on the floor?!” you whined, kicking him again. “You scared me half to death! I fell on you!”

“Yeah, I noticed,” he laughed proudly. “Next time you wanna jump my bones, feel free to wake me up before you start. Just a heads up, I like getting yelled at.”

“Shut up,” you snapped, snatching the blanket off the couch to cover yourself with— your pajamas weren’t that revealing or anything, you just suddenly felt sort of exposed with Eddie looking at you like that. “You’re disgusting.”

“Yeah, that’s a good start,” he hummed, biting his lip.

“I fucking hate it here,” you grumbled under your breath as you stormed off to your bedroom, dragging the blanket behind you like a cape. Your room was a little darker than the rest of the house still, since it had darker curtains than the living room window, and you wished that would be enough to let you get back to sleep— but your heart was still racing.

You were about to slam the door behind you but Eddie grabbed it first. “Don’t forget Barry,” he reminded you, holding the bear out, and you snatched it away quickly.

It’s hard to say what compelled you to glance down, but when you did, your throat went dry at the sight of the bulge in his pants. “Jesus Christ, Eddie!” you yelped, slamming your hand down over your mouth first, then your eyes. “Can’t you cover that up?”

“U-uh, sorry,” he mumbled, grabbing a picture frame off of your desk and holding it over his crotch.

“Why are you—? God, I don’t even wanna know…” you trailed off.

“Just how guys wake up,” he insisted, “don’t take it too personally.”

“I won’t,” you promised, turning around and walking towards the bed.

“Hey, what if I wanna go back to sleep, too?” he asked.

“You seemed just fine on the floor,” you returned, kicking the door shut behind you so it slammed in his face.

You collapsed onto your bed face-down. Though you knew you had no chance of sleeping now, you shut your eyes and just tried to think about anything else— anyone else.

Just when it seemed like maybe you and Eddie could get along, he had to ruin it with raunchy jokes and that smug grin of his. Just when, for a split second, you saw him in a new way, he fell back on old habits. Truly, Eddie Munson hadn’t changed much since high school: he was just as goofy and self-assured as you remembered, if anything even more boisterous.

You hadn’t changed much, either; though you’d never admit it, even to yourself, he still made this strange feeling stir in your chest. You still wished you could be more like him— more irreverent, more confident.

Having him here was bringing back all those old feelings, all those memories you’d buried of watching him grandstand in the cafeteria or ignore bullies and jocks or do something stupid to make his friends laugh. All those times you’d seen him and felt this sick feeling in your stomach because he just didn’t care what people thought of him and you couldn’t imagine how. He almost seemed to enjoy the negative attention, he craved it, he invited it! That was why you hated Eddie— because he didn’t have this need to please everyone that you did. He looked so free. You hated him the way a bird in a cage must hate the others it sees in the tree through the window; you hated him for breaking all the rules you’d imposed on yourself.

You spoke it in your mind over and over like a mantra: I hate Eddie Munson, I hate Eddie Munson.

But it wasn’t working.

The next morning was a much-needed reprieve from the chaos.

When you woke up, Eddie was already at school, Wayne was at work, and it was just you and your mom— you know, how life was before everything went bonkers? Best of all, you didn’t have class until the afternoon and it was one of your days off from your relatively-new job at the Rite Aid photo counter, meaning you could actually enjoy a quiet morning. You could pretend everything was normal for a while, and so you did, waking up on your own terms and getting up eventually to step out into the hallway and follow it until you found your mom standing by the stove.

“Morning, honey!” she greeted sweetly.

“Morning,” you returned, sitting at the breakfast bar, and adding, relevantly: “what’s for breakfast?”

“Fried eggs and bacon,” she replied— not your favorite, but you didn’t have to cook it, so you weren’t complaining. “How much do you want?”

“Two eggs, one strip, please,” you answered; a moment later, a plate to your exact specifications appeared— arranged, of course, in a smiley face. Apparently, you still weren’t too old for that. You said thank you before digging in, of course, but mainly you were just focused on how everything tasted better when it wasn’t a “family meal.”

"You want some orange juice, honey?" she asked.

"Not if it's got Munson germs on it," you grimaced, recalling that time you caught Eddie drinking straight from the carton one morning, and she laughed.

"It's a new carton, I just bought it last night."

"Then I'd better enjoy it while it's still untainted, huh?" you smirked. She poured you a glass, and you quietly made it through your first meal of the day.

When all that was left of your food was half a strip of bacon and the traces of runny yolk on white porcelain, you got up out of your chair and stretched. “Thanks for the food, mom,” you offered politely, but of course, she wanted more in return than just thanks.

“Sweetie, will you get yours and Eddie’s sheets and put them in the laundry, please?” she asked.

“Sure,” you replied, taking the last swig of your orange juice before setting the glass down and returning to your room.

You started by stripping your sheets and tossing them into a pile on the floor before climbing the ladder to untuck Eddie’s next. Of course, they were in total disarray, and you found a Walkman and some candy bar wrappers tangled up in them. That, though, was nothing compared to when you pulled the fitted sheet out from around his mattress and saw something dark and glossy slide out from the side of the frame. Leaning in, you pulled it out all the way but dropped it in disgust when you realized you were holding a porno mag.

“Ewwww,” you whispered to yourself, lifting the mattress to find another left open to a page where two women were on top of each other in bed, open-mouthed and just about to kiss, nude spare for the one sporting some fuzzy handcuffs. “Bet you read this one for the articles, huh, Ed?” you mumbled to yourself, turning the page just to grimace at the picture of a blonde spread eagle— she wasn’t blonde everywhere, though.

A weird feeling twisted in your chest, one you couldn’t describe or even name. I don’t look anything like these girls, you kept thinking, but you weren’t sure why that mattered at all.

You really considered throwing them out— you could already imagine walking in on Eddie rifling through his bedsheets, before shooting you a sharp glare and yelling did you touch my stuff, again?! And you’d say I found your stash, perv and he’d grab your shoulders and start the interrogation: What’d you do with them? And you’d shrug and glance at the trash can, just for him to growl you know, just because you’re a prude doesn’t mean you can go around trashing my porn.

You smiled to yourself; that actually sounded kinda fun. But no, you could skip the whole ordeal and just leave them neatly stacked under the mattress after you put new sheets on it, a silent message that you saw his filth and let it be. You hoped he’d be even just an ounce embarrassed, but you weren’t sure if Eddie even had the capability for shame; you were surprised he even had the discretion to hide the magazines under his mattress in the first place! Especially considering you’d already overheard his… evening activities once or twice. Like that very first week, when you kicked his bed— you remembered that like it was yesterday, even though Eddie and Wayne had been here over a month now.

To his credit, he’d been more thoughtful since then, apparently waiting longer for you to fall asleep or just doing it while you weren’t home. What Eddie didn’t know was that you’d heard him again— but you didn’t say anything, you didn’t whisper-yell at him to cut it out or kicked the underside of his mattress. You weren’t sure why, but you just… listened.

It was faint anyways, for the first couple minutes you kept wondering if you were really hearing what you thought you were— but then you heard him spit, presumably into his hand. And you figured he didn’t just do that to pass the time.

The memory made that feeling come back, the heavy one in your stomach that was warm and yet made you shiver. You’d listened silently, not even stirring in your bed in case it would make him stop; you’d clenched your thighs together, shutting your eyes and tuning in to every sigh, every hiss through his teeth, every wet sticky sound that you knew had to be his hand on his cock.

And then there was yesterday morning, when you felt it. You’d been trying ever since to force that memory out of your head, but if you thought hard enough it was almost like it was still pressed to your inner thigh, still hot through his pajamas and the blanket, still… thick.

You swallowed and cleared your throat, shutting the magazine and delicately stacking it atop the other. Sheets gathered in a bundle in your arms, you stepped down off the ladder and took them to the laundry room.

Of course, this was the season of major mid-term assignments at school, so you should’ve seen it coming. Still, the assignment for your portraiture class was going to be especially irritating; you only gained more and more anxiety about it the harder you tried to find some way to complete it.

And now here you were, out of options. You’d been psyching yourself up for this all day, waiting for the right time to ask him only to chicken out. You knew you needed to get it over with— maybe some part of you was still hoping you would be able to get out of it through divine intervention, but that didn’t happen. Which is why you waited until quite literally the last minute and didn’t approach him until nearly midnight.

He was on the couch, watching TV like his eyes were glued to the screen, ignoring you completely while he munched on microwaved popcorn and you stood by nervously.

You sighed slowly. “Listen, Ed…”

“Mm?” he mumbled, half-listening— if that.

“I, um… I need a favor,” you explained.

Suddenly, his eyes lit up and his eyebrows raised. He looked away from the TV, which he muted, and leaned in towards you with a grin. “How can I help you, sweetheart?” he purred.

Your skin crawled, but you kept going. “Um, well, my photography class— we have a big project, you know… portrait photography.”

His smile grew wider; he must’ve known where this was going, so you just got it over with.

“I need a model,” you admitted.

He leaned back on the couch, running his tongue over his teeth. “So, naturally,” he continued, voice a little deeper and smoother than usual as he stretched his arms out along the back of the couch and brought one of his legs up to cross over the other, “you came to me.”

“Yeah,” you rolled your eyes, “fifth.”

He shrugged a little, turning his face to the side. “If that’s how many phone calls it takes for you to realize you’ve got the perfect specimen of the male form at home already…”

You scoffed.

“And now I know you’re all out of other options,” he looked at you again with a sparkle in his eye, “so I’m gonna negotiate pretty hard.”

Shit. You shouldn’t have played your hand early. "If you do this for me, I'll… take the bus to my classes for two weeks," you offered. "You can be early to school!"

"I love that you think being early to school is that important to me," he grinned.

“I’ll get you the new Van Halen record on vinyl,” you countered.

“Eh, heard the singles on the radio, they went too ballad-y,” Eddie shrugged. “Why Can’t This Be Love? More like, Why Can’t This Be Over Yet.”

“Fair,” you sighed. "I'll… do your laundry for a month?"

You regretted that idea instantly; he probably had a tube sock somewhere so full of Munson genes that it was already committing misdemeanors.

Thankfully, he rejected his offer with a shake of his head.

“I know what I want already,” he explained. “The van’s seen better days… thinking you could give her a nice sponge bath. And a wax.”

“Oh, a sponge bath and a wax, sounds like your pre-date routine,” you scoffed.

“Yeah, full Brazilian, what’s it to you?” he joked— at least, you were pretty sure he was joking. “So, you want a model or not?”

“You’re not serious,” you insisted. “I’m not washing your car.”

“Then I’m not posing for your little… boudoir session.”

“It’s not boudoir, it’s portraits—”

“Not listening,” he informed you with a smile as he picked up the remote again and unmuted the show. You snatched the remote out of his hand and turned the TV off, leaving the room dark as you sighed.

“Fine. Fine!” you groaned. “I’ll wash the van tomorrow.”

Of course, you just imagined yourself with the hose and a bucket on the driveway, getting the van clean. You hadn’t realized Eddie would be there, too. On a lawn chair. In shorts and shades. Drinking a beer, watching you.

“It’s like a fucking oven out here,” you explained with a frown, crossing your arms. “Why did we have to do this at high noon again?”

“Longer you bitch, longer it takes,” was all he offered.

He watched you silently— spare the radio next to him floating some annoying-as-fuck metal tunes into the burning hot mid-day air.

“You missed a spot, sweetheart!” he called out at you as you leaned over the hood to try to wash the rusting metal.

“Bite me!” you yelped in return.

“Mm,” he hummed before he took another long, slow sip from the bottle, making you regret saying anything he could make perverted somehow.

Oh, by the way, speaking of perverted… he’d picked out your outfit, too: jean cut-offs and a t-shirt. You wore a bikini top underneath, knowing you’d need to be prepared to get wet during a process like this, especially considering how stupidly hot it already was in Hawkins. It was uncharacteristic for this early in the year— in fact, a cold front was due to come in tomorrow. Just your luck, of course.

You grimaced as you saw the suds running down the sides of the doors— they were brown, already, as you ran your soapy sponge along the dirty frame. Where the fuck was he driving this thing that it got this dirty?!

After scrubbing with the sponge for a while, you used the hose to rinse off the soap and then started all over again. You had to stand up on your tiptoes to try to reach the top, but that was the best you were going to do, no way you were climbing up there to wash a part of the vehicle no one ever sees; when you glanced over at Eddie, you found him with his head tilted as he— well, you couldn’t be sure where he was looking with the reflective aviators on, but you could guess.

“Enjoying the show?” you asked with a sneer.

He raised his glass bottle towards you, like you were toasting or something, and you groaned as you got back to work.

“Stupid fucking freak,” you grumbled under your breath as you aggressively scrubbed with your big yellow sponge, “just ‘cause my mom’s banging your deadbeat uncle— I hope you choke on the next sip of that Budweiser and drop fucking dead—”

“What was that?” you heard him coo at you from the lawn chair, uncrossing his ankles so he could lean closer slightly.

“Nothing,” you cooed in a sarcastically-saccharine sing-song. “I’m so glad you’re my stepbrother— or whatever the fuck you are.”

“Step-cousin-to-be, but yeah,” he grinned, “something like that.”

“Dead man walking’s what you are,” you got back to mumbling to yourself as you knelt down to wash the van’s grill.

You were so focused on it— even though you hated doing this, you wanted to do it right— that you didn’t notice he was walking up to stand behind you until he cast a massive shadow over your work. You turned around, squinting up at his silhouette before you stood and set the sponge down on the hood.

“Is this fun for you?” you asked, tilting your head at him.

“Yup.”

You scoffed and crossed your arms. “So basically, you get off on making me do stupid things for you like this? Dressing me up like a total idiot and watching me wash your nasty old van?”

He thought about it for a second. “Um, yeah, basically.”

“You’re disgusting,” you groaned. “Making me work in the heat just for your sick little game… I’m so sweaty, it’s awful.”

“Want me to cool you off?” he offered. You were stupid enough to nod, and he held up the hose and put his thumb over the end so it would spray you.

“Ugh!” you yelped, shoving him back. “I hate you!”

“What?” he laughed. “It’s just water.”

“Is the van to your liking yet?” you sighed.

“Almost,” he smiled— not mockingly, though. He tilted his head back all the way, giving you a view of his neck as he drank the last of his beer before tossing the bottle aside into the yard. “I’ll help you do the rest, okay?”

“You’re gonna clean that up, right?” you glanced at the brown glass in the green grass— which sounds poetic and all but was a little more ‘white trash’ than you were going for with your lawn.

“Of course, I’m not an animal,” he rolled his eyes, “just gonna help you first. You want help, right?”

You sighed, picking up the sponge off the hood. “Let’s get this over with.”

You’d picked the woods, mostly on a whim, as your photoshoot location— your strength was nature photography anyways, and you didn’t want to do this anywhere that people might see you both. “The assignment is to submit two photos of the same subject, showing two facets of their persona,” you explained as you started loading film into your camera.

“Oooh, facets of their persona,” he repeated in an uppity sort of voice that made you roll your eyes, “very psychobabble, love it.”

“Hey, I didn’t come up with the rules, I just have to follow them, okay?”

He nodded, crossing his arms. "So, what are my facets?"

"You tell me,” you challenged.

"...What? I don't know,” he scoffed, “I only have one side. I'm just me."

"Oh please, you probably have more sides than a D20."

"I love when you talk D&D to me," he growled seductively.

"Shut up," you rolled your eyes, “I only know that ‘cause you never shut up about that stupid game.”

“You only know ‘cause you read my rulebooks when I’m gone,” he announced smugly, and you sputtered over a couple excuses. “You’re not that slick, sweetheart! I can tell when you’ve been through my stuff.”

“Well, that’s not the only literature of yours I’ve read,” you shot back. “Your under-the-mattress collection is really nice.”

He smirked, though you did see his cheeks turning pink. “Those? Yeah, thanks, just like to do a little light reading before bed.”

“That’s… gross,” you shuddered. "I'm serious, though— we need to figure out this photography assignment. Come on, what's your, like… dark side.”

He gave you one of those smirks that made your heart jump. “Babe, this is my dark side.”

“You’re not as tough as you look,” you reminded him. “Just a softie under all the leather and denim.”

“Well, it’s not much of a dark side,” he shrugged, “but it’s all I’ve got. I just am who I am! Not everyone is so terrified of authenticity.”

“Okay, that’s bullshit but whatever,” you decided, “the point of the assignment is—”

“What about your dark side?” he wondered, leaning forward and poking you on the chest as you wrinkled your eyebrows together.

“What about it?” you returned.

“You probably don’t even have one,” he decided. “I’ve gotta have one, but you don’t?”

“I do!” you denied.

“Bull,” he snapped, “you’re a good girl, all the way down.”

You rolled your eyes. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You know!” he threw his arms up. “A people pleaser. Goody two-shoes. Teacher’s pet.”

You crossed your arms, scoffing defiantly. “I got detention once, you know. I got caught in the janitor’s closet with Gary.”

“But isn’t that the same thing?” he pressed, tilting his head to the side. “What were you in the closet with Gary for, anyhow? For your own pleasure, or to try to make him happy?”

Widening your eyes, you tightened your fists; Eddie just dropped his chin down to his neck and looked at you expectantly. “I’m not the subject, okay?” you deflected. “I need to take two pictures of you, showing two different sides.”

“One from the front and one from the back!” he suggested proudly.

You sighed and shut your eyes. At this rate, the remaining five hours of daylight might not be enough to get this done; it was like taking pictures of the Hellfire Club again, having to bark at them to get back in line and stop making faces and not blink so much.

While you were dreading the prospect of spending the entire day here with Eddie, frantically trying to get some decent pictures, he was silently hoping for the exact same thing.

#eddie munson x reader #stepbrother!eddie munson x reader

2K notes · View notes

chokchokk · 10 months

Text

2/2

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐡𝐞 𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐬 𝐢𝐬 𝐝𝐢𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭 [𝐢 𝐰𝐢𝐬𝐡 𝐢𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐬] | choi san x fem!reader

PART THREE of : have your way with words, be my people pleaser

“Be mine tonight, Y/N.”

𝚜𝚢𝚗𝚘𝚙𝚜𝚒𝚜: The hour is twisted. You’re not at a club, you’re not sober, but most importantly, you’re not with him. Will Seonghwa do? No, of course not.

But he leaves you no other chance.

“You’re so pathetic, it might actually be worth a try.”

𝚐𝚎𝚗𝚛𝚎: angst, smut

𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚝𝚞𝚜: 2nd half of PART THREE

𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚍 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝: 13.3k

𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐(𝚜): drug-use, drug abuse, alcohol, mdma (ecstasy, molly), vulgar language, just a lot of vulgarities and profanity, hate-fuck?, aggressive, teasing, cunnilingus, fingering, unprotected sex, sex with feelings but no love, sex with no respect, cumming inside; reader cant stop thinking about san, writer is a bit stoic, seonghwa is a hot bitch, hwa and writer are liars lmao

𝚊𝚞𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚛'𝚜 𝚗𝚘𝚝𝚎: the border looks that ugly on purpose btw not that you think otherwise LMAO

on ao3, this chapter is called “insanity” and i can’t promise it will be the only seonghwa-centred part throughout the series, but do please enjoy for the filth and angst of it all hehe!! <33 if you're asking “does san even make an appearance here?” i won’t tell you :P i know it's intimidating since there's just about like 10k build-up (because i'm a bitch LMAO) so if u wanna skip just find the second border i guessssssss

also, i really recommend listening to KLOUD's ESCAPE HALLOWEEN set (it's a soundcloud link) or any other hard tekno for the whole immersive experience lmao !!! <33

and also, thank you all very much for 100 followers and over 1000 notes ! ! ! wtf it's all happening so fast i can't catch up with yall....

𝚝𝚊𝚐-𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝: @brown88 : @svintsandghosts: @hanniebeesworld : @downbadreading : @shingsoluvely (kissing all of yall <33)

Didn’t Seonghwa say “club” or are you being some conservative narc flaking out?

You’re standing in front of a white, slightly burnt industrial building that is barely holding on by itself, and taking into account how many people are smoking around here, the likeliness that it will catch on fire again is not too low. You can’t believe that you’re going to meet Seonghwa inside here, let alone San, let alone anyone with a healthy sense for flight or fight, but here you are, walking up to the line with confident steps.

Yes, it has made you very anxious that even the taxi-driver had no idea where he was heading. He promised to drive you back home if anything happened, so the taxi-hotline is on speed-dial— just in case— and you just thought, holy fuck, hopefully Seonghwa won't leave me alone here.

But once you’d seen the seemingly endless line of people, you knew you have arrived at the right place. Or at least something like the right place. It all seems off, this building in the middle of nowhere outside the city, but you told the driver the vague address and he found you this hidden ware- and clubhouse, both of you hesitating to confirm that this was the correct location.

Nothing here seems legal, smells legal, looks legal— oh well.

The only thing you can say with certainty is is that you are looking and smelling the best you have ever looked and smelled this entire semester, and even if you have no fucking clue who these people that are whistling at you are, you know you’ve done everything right tonight when they wave at you to join them. You just skipped a whole chunk of the line here, but nobody seems to mind it. What a democratic party, maybe it’s not all that foul play and people do appreciate good things, eh?

It’s not an exaggeration or empty self-boast: You, in your skin-tight, revealing black body-con dress, skin glowing under the harsh night-light, are absolutely ravishing. There are looks on you— uncountably many of them, and usually, you’d fold under their heavy gaze, but having taken a few shots of the cheap rum back at home, you reciprocate their curious eyes with a sleek, cheeky smile, down-right inviting them to bathe in your appearance.

While the group of people take in the presence of you, blurting out their first thoughts immediately upon thinking, your confidence only grows bigger. Thank god drunk people say the truth, because “damn, she’s hot” is the ego-boost you needed to face whatever awaits you in that cubic building.

“ARE YOU FUCKING READY?”, booms out of it and it seems like a voice sample that’s been altered that hellishly deep. The crowd outside cheers. They're not even a part of the shenanigans yet, but still, they’re screaming and already moving their body in anticipation, throwing funny looking candy (you’re very sure that’s molly) inside their mouths. They’re ready, but Y/N, are you? It is an honest question to ask yourself, and as you inhale the smell of people smoking the devil’s lettuce around you, you draw out how the night might progress for them.

You don’t know about San’s whereabouts, only that Seonghwa and him are going separately, which is a big plus if you want to fuck him today.

Uh-huh. Fuck Seonghwa. You’ve made it up in your mind because he just wouldn’t stop hinting at it in the car this morning. He is going to buy you drinks, going to show you his dancing, but most importantly, going to “make you enjoy yourself”, which of course, could just be wishful thinking from you iterating the conversation, but Seonghwa wouldn’t have bought the tickets for you for free if he wasn’t expecting some type of reward, would he?

At the minimum, the hinting painfully reminded you of the way you talked to San the very first days you first insinuated that he could stay over at your house and — oh, golly! — sleep there. Coming to think of it, your talk actually never worked, and it still ended up being San who made the first sexual move. You’re going to save Seonghwa from this embarrassment, and if not, you’re going to save yourself from your own embarrassment for if you do see San and his volleyball-“date” or whatever here.

Anyhow, at the maximum, you have a brain and are fully aware of the fact that people don’t “meet” at the club to just have a chat, whether it's him or San. People “meet” at the club to get crazy and fuck, and that’s exactly what you’re doing with Seonghwa — End of story. San is not going to write this chapter today. He won’t even end up in the epilogue, that’s how much you’re going to focus on Seonghwa. Go down. Get him on. Get on with him.

You bop your head a little bit to the deep bass that’s vibrating through the walls of the warehouse and the line is taking a painfully long time to move forward. You watch the people in your group chug down their self-mixed abominations and how they're throwing the remaining glass on the floor, whiffing their stimulants through their joints or gulping it down by tablets. Letting out a huff to exhale the sharp smell of weed, you try to become as detached as the ones around you, at the very least assimilate to their mood. You’re going to be with these people tonight, and just by putting one and one together, you get the feeling that it will be a long, ruthless evening. You can hear intoxicated screams leave the front door, the deep voice continuing to hype up their cheers.

It's all a hivemind of pure madness and … well, you're here for it, it seems like, no? Seonghwa is not going to be an exception, and you brace yourself to be meeting your date here.

Show you his dancing, he said…

You don’t know whether the DJ playing some extraordinary remixes or whatever to be deserving this much of screaming feedback, but it’s definitely music to get your mind lost to, you'll give this guy Mingi that; Splurging, ear-numbing beats and basses, inviting you to rock your body. You don’t hate the music, not at all. It just makes you question how Seonghwa was imagining to impress you. Here you are imagining body-rolls or whatnot, but this hard style techno isn't really the tune for that, is it? Okay, let's just say it's not music you'd turn on to get yourself into the mood on a Saturday night, that's what's there to it.

It’s ironical, really. Usually around this time you’d be fumbling around your phone on your couch to ask San if he’s free or not, and sometimes he is, but most of the time he’s not. Those days where he just comes over on your mark have been over long time. Now, he’ll either show up at your house unprecedented or ask you to show up at his house in an ungodly hour.

Huh, isn’t that one funny butterfly effect. You woke up early because of San's mistress and here you are, lining up to become Seonghwa's. Is this right? "I heard you were going to be at Mingi’s party. Meet me there." Even now, you’re trying to convince yourself that this contact name “volleyball” could be anyone, maybe even just a friend that is trying to link up at this not-so party-looking party. Hm, you think, would a friend text him so intimidatingly? San hates periods to end messages, it scares him. So no, not a friend. At least not a friend that knows him as much as you do. Someone he had a fight with, maybe? No, Choi San doesn’t have fights, he’s too avoidant of conflict for that. It has got to be someone that has once been close to him and a bit too close to your liking.

No, no, fuck no, let’s stop this, you murmur to yourself and wriggle down your dress so it covers your ass at least.

Fucking Seonghwa. That’s your one and only mission tonight, of course followed by having fun and getting all hell loose.

It will just be one night and it will either make you 1) want to stay with San, or 2) finally move on and agree that San is just a … friend with too many benefits. You have to convince yourself you’re not in love with San. You can’t be in love with San. Disregarding of how curious you are in meeting him here.

“Ticket,” the control-man orders around the people in front of you and you get out your phone out of your tiny bag for the ticket, when you see that Seonghwa has already messaged you.

Seonghwa (San’s roomie): I’ll be waiting at the bar for you by the way Seonghwa (San’s roomie): You have to walk up the stairs on the left when you enter Seonghwa (San's roomie): Excited to see you ;)

You have been guessing already that something was going to break tonight, but it might as well be those stairs Seonghwa is talking about. From the amount of people that are still waiting behind you, you hope that they’re not all trying to go the bar.

“Ticket, please,” the control-man repeats, but strangely enough, his tone is a bit friendlier to you for some reason. “Here you go,” you duplicate his kindliness and he nods, dropping his smile as soon as he moves on to the next guess. Strange.

You eye the buff guy, but the impatient crowd pushes you into the square door. In you go.

“GET YOUR FUCKING HANDS UP!”

Harsh red lights, laser and smoke hit your senses. (Though you can only be so sure that the last part is really planned for the show-experience.)

Maybe you underestimated the capabilities of a warehouse. It’s still not what you thought of when you heard "club", but it surely still gets your club-mind going. Ignoring the grimy looking walls that seem to crumble with every beat that’s drumming inside your ears, the pungent smell of cheap-ass perfume, artificial sweeteners and alcoholic beverages strike into your nose, blurring your sight for a short moment. There are no windows in this hell-hole, but that’s the concern for another hour.

This is only the beginning. So, let’s focus.

Left, stairs, go up, there’s the bar Seonghwa was messaging you about. It surprises you that you’re not being swarmed by more people trying to get drinks, but it makes sense, since so many of them have already drunk outside or taken other substances to get themselves prepared for the night. That’s the first thing.

Second thing; suprisingly, the stairs are actually kind of durable. You can physically feel the bass run through your veins as you grab the handrail, but maybe that’s just because of the cold metal. Nothing to worry about here, you exhale and make your way up.

Lastly, and most importantly, look at you, you’re smiling. That’s the biggest, best thing. The euphoria these people are screaming out is down-right infectious, isn’t it? Their daft, hypnotic cries are calling out to you on the dance floor, but you’re going to be there sooner or later, with the man that brought you here in the first place.

“Hey, Seonghwa.”

“Hey, Y/N, you—“

He was sitting on a barstool, admiring the flashing lights all throughout the warehouse through his sunglasses, when you put your hand on his barely clothed shoulder and make him turn around.

“Holy shit, Y/N.”

You grin. Of course Seonghwa wouldn’t disappoint with his reaction. He rips the sunglasses from his face immediately, gets up from his seat and embraces you with one arm, not daring to let one eye sway away from you, his tongue pushed to the surface of his mouth, as he suppresses his gleeful grin. He looks star-struck, the supernatural-looking lights surrounding him are only emphasising this sight. Otherworldly.

“Where have you been hiding that?”, he asks, commenting on your body as respectfully as he can. You know he can’t handle a lot of alcohol, so his marvel must be double the truth, right? Seonghwa isn’t a liar.

“I’ve not been hiding anything,” you scoff and Seonghwa laughs nervously.

“Y/N, you look… absolutely fantastic.”

“You don’t look to shabby yourself, Seonghwa,” you smile and muster the charcoal-haired man from bottom to top. It’s very out-of the ordinary, but honestly, you should have expected something like this after he invited you here. It goes without saying, you could have served him the same reaction to his outfit. The man who was wearing sportswear? He’s now wearing a black, nylon, baggy pant, with a distressed knitted top that barely serves as an excuse for clothing as it is not covering any of his body parts correctly— and even if you’d already gushed about his athletic figure this morning, you have not expected to be seeing Seonghwa’s abs and breast this exposed this early tonight. There is jewellery all around his outfit, just dangling from the fabric, but also his ear and hands, spiky and shiny, almost hazardous looking.

Damn, either you haven’t seen Seonghwa enough or this dude has been hiding more from you than you could account for. He looks as fashionable as much as he looks demonic, ready to sin with you, and that is the most meaningful compliment of the night.

“Thank you, I knew you’d like it.”

“Really? Me?”, you laugh, getting your hair out of your face, tugging it behind your ear.

“You have a strange taste,” Seonghwa smirks and while you puzzle together what he means, he signs something to the bartender with his ringed fingers.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m ordering us shots. Keeping my first promise.”

“With sign-language?”

Seonghwa smirks and sits down again, you following him to the same.

"I'm a friend of Mingi's, they know me around, that's all."

"Y'all are weird."

“That’s just our ways here.”

“Your ways? You sound like some pretentious club-kid,” you nag.

“What if I am, huh? Are you gonna leave, if I was?”, Seonghwa teases and is served a tray of four shots, coloured a dangerously unnatural purple colour. He slides a 10-dollar bill onto the counter and the bar-keeper takes it with no words spoken out loud, which gives Seonghwa the time to devote all his attention to you. It’s flattering how astounded he is by you, as if he hasn’t seen you pretty ever in his life. But then again, you can only do so much styling and make-up when San calls you at 10 PM, asking you to “hurry”.

“We’ll see how the night progresses,” you smirk, and grab the first shot. Seonghwa also takes one and slightly raises the small cup.

“I won’t disappoint you.”

Sweet — the taste of the shot.

All types of fruits and harsh, cheap liquour plunge into your mouth and melt on your tongue. It’s going to make your head hurt the next day, one hundred percent, but maybe it will be Seonghwa to get you some pills to soothe the ache.

… If he wasn’t San’s god-damned roommate.

Or he could stay at your home. It’s been a while since another man than him has slept in your bed, and maybe it’s long overdue.

“Let’s hurry up, I wanna dance with you,” you gulp down the sugary liquid and Seonghwa chuckles.

“We’ve got enough time, Y/N. Let’s savour this one together.”

Sweet — The spark in his eyes, his flawless skin, perfectly plump lips— holy fucking shit. Seonghwa is fucking breathtaking.

“Y/N?”, Seonghwa asks and you see that he’s already moved on to the second shot, waiting for you to move on.

“I didn’t know you had that kind of sexy stare in you,” your alcohol blurts out for you and in the meanwhile, you grab the next shot glass.

“Sexy stare?”, Seonghwa asks and grins.

“Screw you! You know what I’m talking about,” you hiss and show him your tongue to offend him, but Seonghwa just tilts his head, raising the glass to your face.

“Loveshot?”, he asks and for a moment, you don’t know whether he’s joking or not. Maybe you’re just feeling weird because a male has said the word “love” in your proximity. (The only man in your life who's a candidate in hearing that word avoids it like a disease.)

“Only if you mean it,” you purr seductively, lick your lips, and praise to fucking god he’s taking the hint. Seonghwa leans in and crosses your arms around, the cold rim of his drink suddenly resting at your lip.

“That’s not how loveshots work,” you notify, but you still mirror him and place your glass under his lips.

“Do you care?”

“No.”

Seonghwa chuckles and with one movement of his hand, the second shot is flowing down your oesophagus. It’s cold, starkly contrasting the humid conditions in the warehouse, but it’s just enough to get your senses rolling again.

You don’t even care that you made Seonghwa miss half the drink, his alcohol tolerance will give him just the right kick from the first shot. Also he doesn’t protest at all, when you hop from your seat to finally get the evening going.

“Let’s go now!”, you order him around and he gladly obeys. “Lead the way,” he says, putting his hands on your shoulder, which he hopefully won't be able to keep there for long, as you both strut down the stairs and into the crowd.

The massive crowd is crazy, and it’s ever-growing.

“What is this place?”, you ask Seonghwa, as he’s being pushed against your back by the people on the way to the dancefloor and Seonghwa has the perfect opportunity to grab you by your hips to not lose you, but frustatingly enough, he doesn’t. His hands leave your shoulders and Seonghwa just tries to manoeuvre to you.

“I wouldn’t be able to tell you,” Seonghwa answers honestly and you look for a free place to roam and dance. People are trying to get as close to the DJ as possible, but once those are gone, there’s actually some space you can use— you just have to get there.

“You come here often?”, you ask, leaning backwards for your voice to hit his skin. You'll be hoarse by the end of the night.

“I’ve only went twice. San went to every single set of Mingi, though!”

“Really? San goes here frequently?”

“Yeah! Does that shock you?”

“Of course it does.” You stop, turn around and Seonghwa’s hands stay in place in his pants, as you talk to him. “This, all of this, doesn’t seem like San at all.”

“Hmm, I know what you’re getting at. But that’s just our boy, eh?”

You stare into his eyes and search for some type of playfulness, but Seonghwa means his words. This is where San roams— is roaming right now, maybe— and it, all of it, just fucking confuses you. This is not the "party" you would have expected to see that man in, and if that wasn't bad enough, he's apparently a regular. You hope you’re not pushing some kind of innocent image onto him, but despite the alcohol that's heating up your cheeks and making you dumber every talking second, you’re seriously puzzled. That he’s never invited you is questionable already, but is “that San for you”? You don't know.

Wiggling your hips, you try to retrace history to the very moment you had met shy little San at the seminar, up until now, where he’s grown three times his size and you feel like he's some type of fucking mystery that is impossible for you to solve. Nerd? Hopeless romantic? Hard to get? Playboy? San may act like he’s open-minded, but he’s the most secretive guy you’ve seen. Not like Seonghwa, who, mind you, is still looking at you with the most intense fuck-me eyes, that it’s actually eating you up.

“Let’s stop talking about San.”

“Why?”, Seonghwa asks, obliviously, eyes turning back to normal.

“Because it’s us here! You and I, Seonghwa and Y/N. If they drank a loveshot together, they should act like it, don't ya think, huh?” you grunt, already slurring your words. You start to move your body according to the heavy beat, tits jerking out to the front, arms waving like they have a life on their own. Seonghwa smiles and accordingly begins to step his feet where yours aren’t; your bodies are annoyingly close, but still not touching at all.

“How do you mean that, Y/N?”, he asks and you slap his revealed shoulder with the back of your hand to stop his teasing. “I thought you wanted to show me your dancing, Seonghwa!”, you whine and he laughs at your comment.

But Seonghwa doesn’t say anything after that, which gets on your nerves even more and in response, you turn your body slightly away while swaying your hips from side to side.

“You know what you said,” you hiss and he probably can’t hear you because the DJ is transitioning to a track with even more bass penetrating your ears.

You scurry your body to the beat and catch the gaze of someone in the crowd, who’s noticed you for the same reasons Seonghwa can’t keep his eyes away from you. The stranger is drilling his gaze up and down your chiselled body, licking his lips. Feeling playful, you make a suggestive expression towards him in return of the attention, winking at him. The male immediately makes his way to you.

"You do molly?”, he asks into your ear and you see that he’s got two skittles with cartoonish hearts and smileys drawn on them. That’s Adam. You never did him before, but you surely have heard of him, your friends have had him, your friends have loved him, your friends had painful break-ups with him. Merciless adam, MDMA.

You look back at Seonghwa who’s still dancing next to you, acting like he's not watching this whole situation go down, putting on his sunglasses again, and pushing it up his nose bridge. It sucks. His skin under the top is teasing you to look at it, and it feels so unusual to be longing for him, like you can't comprehend he's not... the other one.

So, though you do hesitate for a short second, you take two of the heart-painted ones and smile at the stranger, who sounds rotten from inside out, voice raspy and hoarse.

“Are you alone?”, he asks into your ear and while you think of answer, you muster Seonghwa, whose eyes you cannot track anymore, since the black cubic shades are hiding his prettiest possession. Is he still looking at you? Watching the sky? Who knows. Only he knows.

“Maybe?”, you answer and rotate your head to the stranger’s direction. You don’t care for this man, not at all, but what you do care for is Seonghwa’s reaction. Bouncing your ass up and down against the stranger's baggy jeans like the grand girl you are, he gets his hand at your waist and tries to pull you over his place, but, there he is, Seonghwa to come save the night.

“Fuck off, she's taken.”

He pushes the male away with his elbow and the grip immediately loosens up. “Hey, hey, dude, don’t hit me. Sorry, dude.” Seonghwa is visibly taller than him, and apparently that’s enough for the poor guy to get intimidated by his sunglassed face and disappear into the crowd with quick feet.

“YOU WANNA PLAY?”, the artificially deepened voice echoes through the warehouse and you stare into what you can make out from Seonghwa’s eyes with an earnest frown. You’ve felt unnecessarily angsty and frustrated the whole day since you saw that message on San’s phone, and this is the guy who’s going to hold responsibility for it, better with his whole fucking devotion now.

“What was that?”, you tease Seonghwa, who’s finally getting his hands out of his pockets and pulling you closer to him by your wrist. You can’t exactly read his expression since he’s covered his face still, but that actually makes it feel a lot better. There's something off about him, like Seonghwa is a stranger, like you’re not doing it for him, but rather… yourself. You're doing this because it makes you feel good, not the other way around. That's empowering.

“Whatever you want it to be, Y/N.”

“Stop tip-toeing around it! Are you going to fuck me or not? ‘Cause there’s more of those guys everywhere here,” your alcohol spits again and Seonghwa pants.

“Well, shit,” he laughs and finally glides into your waist with his arms. “That was direct.”

“I can flirt with you, but not under these fucking conditions,” you growl, intoxicated, recycling gritty air in your lungs, moving your sticky body to the beat and occasionally grinding against Seonghwa’s lower body with your legs from the front. "I can flirt and fuck you," he hums and frames his hands around your hips, connecting himself to you.

“Do you do molly, Seonghwa?”, you grin, the two pills waiting to be popped in inside your hand.

Seonghwa takes a look at the capsules, and you wait for his answer, as he appears to investigate them. Does he know what he's looking for? Apparently yes, as he pushes up his sunglasses and rubs the corners of his lips with two of his fingers, “Gimme.”

He picks it up from your flattened hand, and you would’ve loved to share it like a love-shot again, but before you could request it, Seonghwa has gulped it down. Not his first rodeo, you assume, and follow his suit.

Good thing that your throat hasn't dried out yet and the pill glides down your throat with your saliva. It's not going to take long until the jubilation of the alcohol you've consumed meets the ecstatic effect of molly, and you bite your lip with a grin. "Never thought I'd be doing drugs with you, Seonghwa," you purr and Seonghwa shrugs with a huff, “I thought you’d never even consider it.” Seonghwa exhales in the heat of it all, pulling you closer.

“What? Because of San?”

“Of course because of San,” Seonghwa cackles and puts his pointy chin in between the space of your collarbone and neck, so that his voice is hitting the spot of your hickey. “You know he’s here somewhere, right?”

“Yeah, but the probability that we’ll see him is like zero, so that’s not my concern.”

“You’d be concerned if he saw us, though?”, Seonghwa asks, loose-tongued, murmuring against your neck. He’s definitely fully gotten drunk, his body heavily weighing into yours, as he gets one arm up and around your head; his hand is tangled into your scalp without a caution of messing up your hairstyle. You finding out what the molly will do to him is only a matter of time.

“Are you asking if I’m committed to him?”

Seonghwa licks his lips, “accidentally” getting your skin with his tongue. It takes you aback a bit and you whine, your eyes dozing off for a short moment. You can still taste the remains of the shot at the back of your cheeks and it's the only thing you can sense correctly. Everything else is either fogged or slowly disappearing, or becoming even harsher like the red laser lights that you fear are going to pierce through you.

“No, I’m not asking whether you’re committed,” Seonghwa answers, leaning into your skin even more, “I know you guys aren’t in a relationship. Or, you know, at least he isn’t committed.”

“WANNA GET NASTY?”

It shouldn’t hurt, but it does. Even when you’re feeling very seduced because he is trying to get the same moaning reaction out of you by licking your sensitive spot and it’s working, you don’t want to be reminded that San doesn’t care for you as much as you do for him. Sure, that sounds harsh, but it’s the truth, isn’t it? You’re not the one living in the same space as San, Seonghwa is.

“Huh? Does he sleep with a lot of women?”, you ask him out of morbid curiosity, acting tough, as Seonghwa works deeper into your neck, getting the skin to soften for him.

“Do you really want to know?”

“Fuck you! Don’t protect me!”

“Ask him yourself,” he lisps, his sharp tongue grazing against your hickey, teasing your pettiness.

“I deserve to know.”

Seonghwa is the one rolling his eyes now, sighing, “You can be such an annoying brat, Y/N. How does San keep up with you?”

You try to yank your head back to show your discontent with his choice of words, but Seonghwa has you deep in his grip and puts you in place.

“You were the one who didn’t want to talk about San,” he lulls into your ear, stroking your hair to calm you down. Sure, that sounds reasonable, but still not an excuse to call you an “annoying brat”.

You take a wild guess about why Seonghwa isn’t just giving you the answer and argue, “I can still be curious, can’t I? San is not committed, you say? Why? Does he get more bitches than you?”

“He tried to get back with his ex.”

Bingo!

Wait, no. What the fuck?

“Huh, when?”, you ask, and irritatingly enough, Seonghwa has begun biting and licking into your neck at the one spot you can’t stop exhaling sweet noises for him. “Seonghwa, you better fuu-huucking answer.”

“Yesterday,” he murmurs against your skin and ding, ding, ding; things make a lot of sense now.

“No, you’re kidding,” you scoff, and push him away with all your strength. With a numbed mind, Seonghwa tumbles back and laughs, “Hey, it’s no big deal, he called you immediately after it didn’t work out.“

“Seonghwa, are you listening to yourself?”

“WANNA GET FUCKING CRAZY?”

“I’m saying it all like it happened, Y/N. San tried to win her back by inviting her to an expensive dinner, but then she flunked out right in the end, when he invited her back home. And, when he came home alone with a boner, San contacted you.”

“You're lying. Don't lie, Seonghwa, lying is a sin," your splur, but once his words have met your brain, it all just becomes chaos inside. It feels like marbles are rolling down inside your head and nothing is making sense, it’s all going nowhere and everywhere with this information. What are you supposed to feel like? Betrayed? There has never been a promise. Sad? You were going to fuck Seonghwa, you're not the most truthful, either.

“Come on, Y/N. You knew it the second San slammed you against that wall at 11 PM, didn’t you?” Seonghwa glides his thumb over your neck and grins, confirming the evidence of yesterday’s night. The roughful sucking of San could barely be covered up by concealer, and you probably sweated it away already.

“He— he said he was stressed.”

“Because of uni? Don’t lie to yourself, Y/N~”, the male purrs. Amidst of it all, Seonghwa is strangely still moving his body calculated to the beat, hitting each one of the drums with his shoulders, all while he hushes behind you to brainwash you with a whiskery voice. “It’s still San we’re talking about.”

You huff perplexedly and are too flabbergasted by his harsh words to not be affected by Seonghwa’s talking and let him hug you tightly again. He’s almost putting you into a headlock of consolation, or something that would have been great if it had been, indeed, consolation. (It is not. He’s almost choking you with his forearm and the way his hand is pushing into your scalp, nothing about this position is in any way soothing.)

“Tell me something, Seonghwa,” you gutter, since the thought has been recoiling rounds in your head forever and curiosity will always kill the cat. “… is she from his volleyball team?”

“No,” he answers and for some reason, this is a lot worse, “she isn’t, but— wait, how do you know about the girl from his volleyball team?”

You don’t answer. For the sake of your heart, you do not answer. You’re still moving, but you’re moving silently, staring into the humorously wild lasers that are teasing you just like he is.

Seonghwa gasps and cups your chin, his thumb meeting your lip, mushing the lower half of your face, trying to turn your face towards his direction, but you resist him. But who are you fooling. Seonghwa doesn't even need to see your expression to ask you, in an almost utterly disappointed whiny tone, "Nooo, Y/N, do you seriously check his phone?”

“I’m gonna punch you in your pretty fuck-face if you keep whining like that, Hwa.”

“Feisty and flattering, and a new nickname too! It must be my birthday,” Seonghwa chuckles and suddenly begins to nibble your earlobe, warm breath from his nose hitting the skin as he pants throughout his dancing. The alcohol is boiling inside you, being churned by the molly, and the crushing disillusionment is slowly into flaming, enraging, hateful desire. It has all gotta go somewhere, and for now, all you can do it talk with this scorching tone that is only going to turn into even more fuming, “How long has San been pining for his fucking ex?”

“For as long as I can remember," Seonghwa answers, seemingly not aware of the severity of this situation, "Middle of the second semester? Exam-season?”

“Nooo,” you scoff and can’t believe what you’re hearing. You don’t even need to calculate what time Seonghwa is talking about, it is engraved deeply into your memories. The same fucking exam season, when you were seeing San every afternoon and evening. You were right fucking there. He knew— you, on the other hand, not so much.

But you should have known.

“Well, yeah,” Seonghwa grins and is running his hands low to your stomach, almost touching your pelvis to get you worked up even more.

Should have known that you weren’t supposed to fall for San.

Angel faces hide the guts of devils’, and right now, your insides are over-cooking with the question "what the fuck were you thinking?" That he’d come around? Like no man in your life has ever come around? That San was the one? No, that San was going to believe that you were the one? 'Well, yeah', he should have, because you are the fucking one. You did so much for him, you could have done so much more for him, and it frustrates you.

“What are you grinning for, you motherfucker?”, you ask, as you peek over and see that Seonghwa has lowered his sunglasses and staring into your empty eyes, searching for a sign of life. You asked, but you don't really need the answer, the picture is drawn perfectly in front of you. Seonghwa is smirking for the same reasons he’s telling you all of this; it’s pretty clear.

“I like it when you’re bossy,” he chuckles, having become more than ‘a bit cocky’ with you, “unlike San. He hates that, right? He’s so weak-hearted, how can he—“

“You’re his friend, Seonghwa,” you insist and grit your teeth, pushing up his sunglasses again with your two fingers, poking into the middle of the lens to make it greasy.

“Friends can say things about each other!”, he giggles gullibly, and scrunches his face together.

All you can say is that Seonghwa sounds and looks moronic in those square sunglasses, senseless and boozed out of his mind, but in the short moment he licks his sharp canine teeth, you suppose that this is exactly how you need him to be.

“You listen to everything, don’t you?”, you ask him, giving into his touch, pushing your back profile so close to him, that there is no touchable space left between you two. Ass pressed against his pelvic area, you breathe heavily into his face that’s glued to your temple. “Every single night I come over to fuck your roommate?”

“Noise-cancelling can only do so much, and your sound is addicting,” Seonghwa pouts— babbling his truths like it’s water falling out of his mouth— and when you see his pink lip shine under the flashing lights, your mind disorients. He is still the pretty boy that says pretty words, even when he's probably faking all of it; he is getting your insides all fuzzy, and you are still being lured in by him, but not for the reasons Seonghwa would enjoy them to.

You’re chasing the feeling of his comfort and you know it. You’re chasing after the man that won’t leave you alone. Or no, you are alone— so fucking lonely because of him even— but you don’t want to be alone, you don’t want him to leave you alone.

San.

Fuck. San.

The feeling of drowning in San’s praise, in his words, inside his bedroom, muffled by his sheets, it hunts you, it makes you feel watched, and it makes you feel like you’re hungry for something you can’t digest. Every word he has said to you is written in your memories in special font, and even though he is out of sight, San will always stay in your mind. Does he do it on purpose? Leave marks, with both words and his lips? To profit off of your yearning? To make himself feel better? To own something? To feel proud? Does he say it that loud on purpose, too? To make his roommate hear him? To make his roommate feel bad in order to feel good?

Maybe he does. Maybe he doesn't. Maybe San doesn't know Seonghwa is listening at all, maybe he doesn't care about any of it.

"Your pretty sounds," Seonghwa repeats himself, his face pressed against your cheek and you roll your eyes at his lips grazing your skin, his heavy breath from his nose warming it up.

These two men are woven by the same needle, knitted with the same material for they say surprisingly similar things and act surprisingly same, but for some reason, it does not feel the same. It is not the same. It should be the same. It should be the fucking same, fuck! You’re going to explode. The way that your head is spinning, your hips swinging, music ringing— people screeching, feet stomping— everything is happening around and inside you. Head, shoulders, knees and toes, livid. Brain, guts, uterus, livid. Let’s not talk about your heart or else we have to start over again. Just forget about your heart and think about the things that are of use tonight. What can you focus on? You can focus on your body glowing hot, but you could also focus on Seonghwa, whose baggy pants is rubbing against your thin minidress. It’s Seonghwa that you wanted, right? Or was it Seonghwa you were supposed to want, because he is the one that wants you back? — No, fuck, let's re-roll, quickly; Seonghwa is grinding against you right now, from behind, and that's exactly what you imagined, wasn't it? Under these lights, under this influence, this is what you wanted, wasn't it?

With the state of your mind, you can not agree with anything; your thoughts sound foreign and it's not your voice speaking, when you grind your ass back. It also doesn't feel like it's your eyes that you're seeing with; Seonghwa’s smile behind of you is becoming blurry and there’s just one more face that’s slowly appearing from the front-ends of your head. There’s a catch though; what you’re seeing is not the soft face you usually cup with your delicate hands and observe in awe when he sleeps, it’s not the face that lights up when he sees you enter through his front door, it's a face that's reading a text message from his fucking ex in the morning and immediately forgets that you're next to him, available as available can be.

It is actually going to make you puke, right here and there. All your emotions, all your ambitions, all of your fucking dreams. Who is San to you? What is he? You’ve known him for what, a year? — Okay fuck, that’s actually more than you thought, but still, it’s not like San and you have met up in any way that wasn’t purely sexual during all the time you knew him. Know him. You don’t know San. You don’t know shit about him. What are you— San and you? What are you going to be? Boyfriend, girlfriend? Has a nice ring to it, but fuck no, right? There are too many girls, right? Which is why you wanted to get yourself another man too, right?

“Come on, Y/N, forget him.”

While you have alcohol and molly inside you, singing two different songs of lust and desire, Seonghwa is moving his legs according to yours and pressing himself more against you. He’s one sadistic dipshit if Seonghwa thinks you could forget any of what you just went through just by moaning into your ear, but you're going with it.

You can't feel a lot right now, except that Seonghwa’s bulge perfectly fits in the space of your ass, rubbing up and down between the two circular shapes, getting himself more erected with every passing beat.

This whole situation is so fucked up and messy.

But, add one more: You are fucked up and messy. The music is building up loudly and people are shaking their bodies next to you, dancing in the high they've reached long time ago, eyes having lost any sign of concentration or sobriety, and you came here to contemplate whether you’re going to have a one-night-stand to prove a point, mixing drugs to get it on faster. You feel quicker, no, you are quick, rushing from one thought to another like you’re fleeing from your inner voices, both the devil and angel. They’re useless in this situation, they have too much reason.

And you don't need any reasons to think you're in the right to fuck him. Seonghwa’s hands are on your abdomen and gently massaging the skin, making you feel like he thinks you’re valuable, but you both know that this dance you’re holding right now barely cost you anything but 10 dollars in cash.

The red lasers haven’t stopped. They are pointing upwards or downwards for you, but you guess, from the way you’re watching Seonghwa’s lips right now, there’s only one way down. There has always been only one way down.

San chooses an ex over you? Then you’ll choose his dumb fucking roommate over him. Two can play this game, and even if he’s had the lead, you’re going to make your play. Is it going to hurt him? You don’t know. Maybe it won’t. But at least it will be over, right? At least this fucking thing will be over.

“Kiss me, Seonghwa.”

“You serious? I thought San was all up your mind right now.”

“Oh my fucking god, just do it before I take it back.”

“LET’S GET FUCKING INSANE”

Seonghwa doesn’t let you ask twice. While people all around you are turning up to the beat-drop, he pulls your chin up and clashes his lips against yours. His teeth clank against you lip and there's a short, piercing pain there, but Seonghwa's high chuckle blows it away. It’s a violent kiss, but mind-numbing enough so maybe you can forget why you decided to kiss him in the first place. While your lips are working against each other, his hand is sliding down to your groin and it's dangerously close to the seam of your tiny dress. One tug and your whole leg is revealed to the crowd, but you don't look down to see how naked Seonghwa is making you; all you see is yourself, in the reflection of his square sunglasses.

His tongue is electrifying, when it forces its entry into your mouth. It’s long and tastes deliciously foreign- a mixture of alcohol and tobacco, which you haven't experienced in pair since a long time. San, no, “he” (this is what you’ll call him now) doesn’t smoke, which at first, you considered as a big win, because you were passively inhaling all the smoke from your prior flings that you’d had the feeling your lungs were being polluted. Yet a year later, you’re clean— cleaner than never before, you should be able to breathe, you should be able to think clearly, but you can’t. Did you think he was pure? Was it that? That he was this untouched man? Maybe he was. Maybe he was, when he was still a nerd who had never heard a woman say the word “sex” in his— or had he? Fuck, had he? You don’t know, you couldn’t have known. ‘He’ was a façade, wasn’t it? He turned into another person immediately, didn’t he?

Let's get back on Seonghwa’s lips.

You're reminded of your lost freedom and as much it drives you insane, it's driving you into a state of pure, adventurous lust. The way Seonghwa works across your slick tongue is animalistic and wild, and you feel like you’re being pursued with no escape. To catch your breaths a little bit, Seonghwa lets go off your chin and thigh, turning you around so he can have better access to your mouth. Not letting the enlivening music go to waste, he presses his lips on yours the second you inhaled for the second time.

You slip your hands under his knitted top, running them up and down his breast, his abs and abdomen to feel his muscles and skin. It’s only a matter of time until he asks you to move off the dance floor, but your alcohol is bombarding you with sweet suggestions you can’t let pass without saying. His exposed skin feels cold under your fingers, but when you cup his hardened erection through the fabric with your hand and move it according to Seonghwa’s tongue slicking against yours, he radiates heat.

“Fuck,” Seonghwa pants into the kiss and you hum, continuing to tease him on this godless dance floor. Nobody has their senses right and is observing you two making out with dozy eyes, nobody cares about anything here. There’s only right now, the song the DJ is playing for the mindless crowd of drugged, intoxicated people. Let’s get insane.

You try to get a good feel of Seonghwa’s cock and its girth with your hand. “You’re big,” you murmur, catching air again, “smaller than San though.”

And there you have it, men are so easy to galvanize.

“Say that again, you fucking cunt,” Seonghwa growls and digs his fingers into your ass, eyebrows pulled down so hard that his forehead could explode.

“Why? ‘Cause you’re better than him?”, you taunt him and click with your tongue, catching a breath. “You’re no better than Sannie,” you sneer, pointing at your hickey with your finger to remind him (but mostly yourself), “don’t think you could be.”

Seonghwa goes fucking angry. Apparently he thinks he’s done so much for you, has been so nice to you, has helped you, whatever, and this is how you show him your thanks. Grabbing your hair, he pushes his forehead against yours and you catch a glimpse of his darkened eyes, feeling the stinging pain from the impact linger, while he talks. His breath is scarce from having kissed you, so he’s trying his best to use his voice to taunt you.

"San is probably fucking his fucking ex-girlfriend right now, do you think you're any better than him, huh, slut? You are the one who's so fucking desperate to get him to love you, and you're still here with me, and you're kissing me, so we're both in the wrong, you fucking whore."

His words don’t mean anything to you, visiting the synapses of your brain, but leaving right after. You just grin with your eyelids covering half of your eye and Seonghwa realizes nothing is arriving inside your sweet, broken mind. Your cheeks are red from the lack of oxygen, drugs and you’re flushed at the cause of his libidinous touch, and Seonghwa sees he's been working around your hair a little bit too much, having ruffled it up to the point that a comb-through will not amount to a lot. You look like a crazy person to him, but nothing attracts a joke more than a hard-hitting punchline.

“We're both single,” is what you lull to correct him, licking over your lips that you can't feel anymore since Seonghwa has kissed them numb. "And I think that's all that matters."

You both hear the music come to an exhilarating high and slowly reach your evaporating point.

“You sound like San,” Seonghwa giggles and he probably thinks it's going to push you over, but it doesn't. He’s still staring into you like he’s searching for a weak spot, but you’re persistent, you’re needy, and while you are weak, you are unforgivably yourself, Y/N.

You smash both your hands on each of his cheeks and you look at yourself through the sunglasses, sneering, "Good. San is a better name to moan."

He scoffs and smiles so condescendingly sweet again, but out of his mouth comes nothing worthwhile. "I'm going to fuck your voice out of your fucking throat, you're never going to moan ‘San’ ever fucking again," he growls and you drench yourself in his vulgarity, kissing him repeatedly.

"Never again," Seonghwa repeats himself, digging his thumbs into your ribs, but his tone isn't as forcing as it is... begging. Asking—demanding you to put all your attention on him, like he knows your heart isn't his and he desperately wants to possess yours. Oh, he definitely knows. You're not fooling anybody, at least didn't try to, but Seonghwa is gullible enough to fall for your tricks, how it seems like. San is painted on your body all the while your dance partner is speaking through his heavy breathing; painted on your neck, in your eyes, it’s annoying Seonghwa, it distracts him, it makes him see red, and not the colour on your skin.

"Awww, do you want me to only moan your name tonight?", you baby Seonghwa, mocking that he's finally revealed his motivations behind all of this. At least you think you've hit the nail in the coffin, when you pout to mirror Seonghwa’s expression.

Seonghwa's greatest sin isn't lust, it's envy. It could be any girl coming and leaving their dorm, moaning San’s name through the thin walls, never to be seen again and he wouldn't bat a second eye, but you— Y/N? San letting a woman like you go without further notice sickens him, like a crime, like a mistake. To hear your voice be pleasured by San at night, and then hear you sing good-bye to the man who does not care as much as he does in the morning, that has sent Seonghwa into a spiral of jealousy, but you’re not sure why. Some fucked-up reason probably, though it doesn’t seem like an ex is the cause this time. Maybe it’s really just because of you.

Sorry to say that you don’t care about that though. Not one single fucking bit. You don't want any of that complex trauma-talk tonight. You want to have sex and forget the sex right after.

"Be mine tonight, Y/N," Seonghwa answers and his eyebrows are pushed in to his forehead. He looks sultry, at least the parts you can see. Sultry, passionate, ready to fuck you, no, desperate to fuck you, in fact, you can feel the pre-cum soak his pants, when you cup his girth.

“You’re so pathetic,” you smirk, “it might actually be worth a try.” Seonghwa lets out a breathy exhale, finally breaking. You don’t know if it’s the alcohol, the molly, or his issues that suddenly took over his conscience, but he doesn’t have any of that left. He grabs you by your wrist with a grip that leaves a white mark, and without forewarning, Seonghwa yanks you through the people.

You hit each and every one of the strangers on your way to wherever. Shoulder hitting against shoulder, breast against breast, it better not leave any more bruising that you already have on your neck. “Seong- wha!”, you wheeze, tumbling at his force, tripping over your own feet over and over. The hall is huge, and he’s seemingly seeking to get to the very end of it.

“Seonghwa!”, you repeat yourself, but he won't listen to you. You're being pulled into a rollercoaster of anything but emotions (at least for you) and you can hear laughter leave your mouth without reason as you pass by irritated people who find it impolite to be barging into the big crowd like this. This dude's crazy, they scorn, but they don't really look that lucid as well, you find, with the last bits of thinking you can do.

"Where are we going?", you ask, but mostly to reassure that you still have a sense for geographical knowledge. You can see the bar again, mobs of people dancing on the stairs so that it's shaking even more compared to how you two had left it, but most importantly, you see that this is a space that's occupied by your kind. So much skin. So many slutty outfits. Outfits? Lingerie. This side looks like a fucking strip-club. Are you at a strip-club? What the fuck is this place? No, seriously, what the fuck is this place?

Seonghwa is finally stopping and you catch a breath from the running. With him doing his weird hand-signs again, you recognize the security guard from the beginning, smiling under his sunglasses, showing an "OK"-sign and pointing to the back of the stairs. You could swear he winked at you.

"What the fuck?", you ask, but Seonghwa only shrugs, making you follow his backwards steps under the stairs, where in black graffiti 'MY PEOPLE DONT BELIEVE IN LOVE' is smeared all over the wall. The same walls are occupied by couples or at least people making out wildly with their eyeliners smeared beyond repair. Is this some sex-area? (No idea) Is this legal? (100% no) Does Seonghwa look so fucking hot without his top on? (Fuck) He does.

Your eyes go cross-eyed, when Seonghwa enters the most mirrored bathroom you've ever seen in a warehouse, but before you can question the fact why people invest in decorating a fucking porta-potty, the male is pulling off his knitted top with one smooth pull, barely waiting a second for you to close the door behind you. The vibrations of the music ring on the metal stairs over you, and you feel like the beat is mushing your brain one size smaller, when you're met by Seonghwa barging at your body.

Pushing you against the plastic door, you feel all of Seonghwa's naked torso with your hands stroking roughly over his skin, and you admire his jewellery sitting on his collarbones, getting your fingers at it around his neck to pull him closer. "You like my necklace?", Seonghwa murmurs, as he pushes his lips into the crook of your neck.

"Choke on it," you gutter and yank him upwards, kissing him. While you do so and Seonghwa begins to unclothe you by getting your arms up, you catch a glimpse of yourself through the mirror. Your hair isn't looking as silky as it did when you left your home, there's mascara smudged around your eye already, but if you're not mistaken, and you can see it by how Seonghwa is sucking your nipples the second your bra falls to the floor, you will look worse in no time.

But that's not to say that you aren't still looking gorgeous. You look bewitchingly sexy, eyelids fluttering with each of Seonghwa's eager touches that are tracing down your body. "Fuck, you look so good," he murmurs and he's trying to keep his eyes open in order to see you. He's gotten you naked pretty quick considering the circumstance, you would've wished for a bit more foreplay here, but maybe it's a reoccuring theme to be impatient.

"You are such a fucking gorgeous girl, San doesn't know what he's missing right now," Seonghwa wheezes and goes through his hair, once he has your dress dropping on the dirty floor, revealing your joke of underwear. If he had kept your bra, he would have seen that you've worn a matching set of burgundy lingerie, but Seonghwa's mouth is still drooling at your pair of perfect thighs, his hand stroking over his lips. You roll your eyes at him and lean your head against the plastic door. You've done such a good job forgetting his name, and here's this dumbass mentioning him again. "You bet your ass he's missing this, huh?", you snarl and play with your own breast with one hand, while the other is cupping Seonghwa's rib, gliding down to his v-line, where his throbbing cock is awaiting you.

"He doesn't deserve you, Y/N."

He wheezes again. It seems like Seonghwa is taking his last breaths, unable to form words since your fingers are exploring how quick they can get to his erection.

"And you do?", you snap back and scoff. He pushes his glasses up to his forehead and for the first time since a long time, you can see Seonghwa's eyes shimmer. Oh fuck, you think, and it's difficult to not kiss him again. You're a bitch. You know you're a bitch for not caring about his feelings, and you know you will indeed not be better than San if you ghost this man right after this evening, but it must be done. For your sake, at least.

"I do," Seonghwa answers, though a lot weaker and less confident than he used to be before. You sigh. He may think he deserves you, but you don't deserve him. His gaze is too sweet, you've got to put those sunglasses back on, if you don't want to develop something. The only thing you can look at to get your mind elsewhere is yourself, in the mirror.

"Don't try to prove yourself," you murmur and Seonghwa wraps his arms around your back and props you by your thigh to lift you up. You can see his back muscle tense up, as he has you steadily in his grip. "I'm not," he answers and there's something that's fluttering inside your breast, when Seonghwa licks up your jawline, because you feel everything; From how wet his tongue is, how warm his saliva sits on your skin to the way what an adoring look Seonghwa is wearing on his face, as he kisses you. "I got nothing to prove to you."

You smirk and see yourself looking very dozy, drunken on alcohol, drugged by MDMA, ducked by Seonghwa's hand between your legs. It's pushing between your folds and with your last bit of control you have over your body, you spread your legs for him, inviting him to get his fingers inside your panties, and of course he does.

With a grin, Seonghwa devotes his tongue to your jaw again and works it into your skin with circular motion. "So fucking wet, and I thought you didn't want to fuck me."

"Who said I wasn't going to fuck you?"

Seonghwa is too busy sucking on the other side of your neck (other side meaning the side that is still unhickey-ed) to answer, but you're persistent. You came to this place to fuck him, and you're pretty sure that nothing from what you told him tonight alluded to something else. And also, even when you're fucked out of your mind, you still have a sense for people who keep secrets. So while Seonghwa is sucking small patches of skin on your neck and you see yourself with an opened mouth with sighs leaving it that you can't hear with your own ears.

"San says things sometimes," Seonghwa murmurs and continues to plant roses on your neck that you can see appear on your skin, "but that's irrelevant now."

"What does he say?", you insist, but the charcoal-haired man puts on his sunglasses again and shakes his head. Switch. As if you hadn't had enough from men who were two-faced, Seonghwa hides his eyes, turning into an inscrutable being again. A stranger. A stranger who's groping your cunt from the front, making your groin tense up and push him closer from the back. You're wrapping him with your legs and holding onto him tightly, when he catches a breath.

"Meaningless things,” he pants and throws you over the door, your arms landing on the frail sink in front of you. The mirror expands and all of the sudden you see yourself in full quality, in all your glory and Seonghwa is only supporting you from the back. His hand is grabbing your chin and pushing it up to the mirror, his pointing finger smudging your lip. With your lips slightly opened, it just makes sense to you to lick around his finger and look at him with a demanding look, eyebrows sultrily pushed together.

"Fuck, Y/N," Seonghwa gulps and cups your breast from behind, massaging it, while he presses his hot lips on your back. "Can I eat you out? Please,” he sighs and you take his finger in, lubing it up with your saliva.

"Do whatever you fucking want," you sneer and balance yourself with two hands on the sink, as Seonghwa raises a leg and throws it over his shoulder, his pretty face planted into your pussy the second you've given him permission to. You spasm to the front, Seonghwa's hair tickling your lower abdomen, as he works his tongue over your slick folds. If his tongue was great for kissing, it's certainly great for cunnilingus too, no, maybe even better suited for it. He's reaching spots that haven't been reached by a tongue in a long time and with the wet muscle working in and out inside you, you're becoming a moaning mess with fluttering eyelids in no time.

"Fuuuck", you gasp, when Seonghwa kneads your ass that's extended out in the air. The sound of his slurping and the music outside assimilate and mix up, and if it wasn't for the hightened senses you got from your molly-influence, it feels like everything is hammering you down from the outside. You can feel each twitch of Seonghwa's mouth, how he smiles, how he's yelping for air, how he's licking over his lips — you're going to fall somewhere, and if it's not into the cheap sink and the mirror that's taunting you, it's in love with his tongue that’s going to make you cum.

"So soon?", Seonghwa murmurs, and two fingers begin to penetrate your gaping hole, as he flicks his tongue over your sensitive clit.

"Fuck, fuck!", you whine and Seonghwa takes note of how your entrance is tightening around him, angling his fingers towards your g-spot. "So fucking good!", you breathe and you're trying to get a glimpse of your mirrored image in front of you, but your eyes are rolling to the back of your head too much.

"Mhm~", Seonghwa hums with an amused tone, repeating a cycle of sucking and licking, pumping against your g-spot. You're flying, the loud tunes bombarding the walls of the porta-potty are slowly getting to your head and intrusing what's left of your conscious mind, only feeling the tickling sensation that is being eaten out by none other than Park Seonghwa.

Until it stops.

You were whining, announcing your impending orgasm, but he apparently had other ideas, pulling out his fingers and removing his lips from you the second you were drawing together your body, preparing for sweet release. "Don't fucking stop!", you yell and grab Seonghwa by his hair, pushing him closer to your cunt by force. "Seonghwa!"

Seonghwa, who you don't know if he seriously just wanted to be called by his name in this situation, chuckles in witticism and wraps his arm around your thigh, getting the other leg over his shoulder too. You're sitting up front now, and there is no space for him to get his finger anywhere near your cunt, but his tongue is more than enough.

"Make me cum or I'm gonna fucking leave, you fucking asshole," you growl and grip a big chunk of his hair to get your message across. The man below you moans and resumes his job, clearly attracted by your lust-driven dominance. 'I like it when you're bossy', you re-call, and before you can finish the quote in your head, Seonghwa has plunged his tongue into your cunt.

"Ungh, fuck!", you moan, a bit more sensitive and distorted this time. Trying to hold your heavy upper body straight, Seonghwa is laving at your cunt, driving you crazy with the speed of his tongue maneuvering inside you. Maybe it was better that Seonghwa edged you, because now every flick is shooting you further into the abyss of pleasantry. "Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck," you stutter, the second wave of the overwhelming euphoria gathering itself like a tsunami.

Seonghwa is more relaxed than you are, though his whole face is busy being used to pleasure you. His nose is dug into your clit and he's shaking his head around to be able to tickle it all during the while he's cutting away his breath to pant into your heat and spreading your slick on his tastebuds.

"Make me cum," you whine, "make me cum with your tongue!"

"Say 'please Seonghwa'," Seonghwa smirks and has the tip of his tongue placed on your clitoris just enough for your orgasm to not be washed away, but definitely not coming, while you grip more of his hair.

"You fucking bitch, I'll never fucking—", you pant, but there's no other way around it. You need this orgasm. "You—"

Seonghwa looks up to you and you can see him waiting. Pushing your thighs together because he annoys you so much, you yank his head closer to your cunt and scream, "okay, fuck, make me fucking cum, Seonghwa, please!"

The man between your thighs chuckles through his nose and once you said the magic-words, he opens his mouth back open to lap around your clit and cunt like a mad dog. Having been denied your orgasm for the second time, the third attempt to chase it down hits you even more, making you breathe heavily and loudly, and this time, the strings are pulling you to total stupification.

"Please, please, please, Seonghwa, please—"

Repeating the words Seonghwa wants to hear so bad again and again, you're fuelling his decision to finally allow you to come. His tongue circles around your clit as if he was racing with the music and your face is parallel to the floor, when your body goes lax and the strands of Seonghwa's hair are the only thing keeping you up.

"Seonghwa, please," you whisper again, weak, and almost sent over the top, while Seonghwa growls under you, his tongue stroking over your sensitive bud until you're shaking and pressing your legs together. "Fuck!", you scream out and Seonghwa throws one leg away from his shoulder, your wobbly foot landing on the floor, when the male stands up and gets to fingers into your cunt.

"Seonghwa, please—", you gasp, when he rams them into your throbbing arousal that barely reached its high and you have to get your arms around his neck if your knees are still worth something to you. "Oh my fucking god," and other moans come spurred out of you and Seonghwa bites into your shoulder to add another stimulative pain to all the sensations you're feeling.

His fingers are long and slender and for all you can grasp, they know what they're doing, when they're driving in and out with no mercy. That this is Seonghwa, you don't really care, that this isn't San, you do just a little bit, but "caring" takes a bit too long in the brain anyway. If your first orgasm from his tongue made your head fly, the second one is evaporating it. Your head feels light and corrupted by the DJ screaming inaudible things into his set, an artificially deepened laughing-track following his ad-lib and your lower body is trembling like a new-born deer, when Seonghwa keeps pushing against your soft patch inside. “Stop— stop, Seonghwa—“, you pant and your legs hold Seonghwa's wrist until he wiggles it out.

"You good?", Seonghwa laughs. He walks behind you and raises your face by your chin, pressing his own cheek next to yours, so both of your faces are seen in the mirror, his pelvis pushed against your ass again.

"Uh-huh," you shudder, your runny mascara making your eyes sticky, "very good."

He smiles, though it's definitely not a friendly smile. This isn't what friends do. It never will be something that friends do and you try to find some type of sanity behind your sunken irises, but there's nothing there. There is someone knocking on the door, Seonghwa's phone is vibrating in his pants, and like the bad person you are, you can't stop to wish that behind at least one of these interruptions is a certain someone is waiting for you, asking for you or anything— fuck. It's worse Seonghwa somehow knows what you're thinking, taking out his phone with his free hand, your face still being cupped by the other.

"You think this is him, don't you?", he asks and lets his temple drop against the top of your head, "Let's bet."

"If you think I'm gonna bet on something like that," you hiss and grind your bare ass against his clothed cock to distract him from the fact he's correct, “you’re a fucker.”

"I'm gonna fuck you, so I don't know where you're coming from here."

You scoff and throw his phone into the sink, when Seonghwa seemingly opens the message and starts to grin.

"Seonghwa," and you know you're lying through your teeth here with the full awareness that Seonghwa probably knows that you’re lying as well, "I want you," and yet you have the very secure feeling that you got into his head.

"Hm, what?", he asks and looks confused, unable to be angry that you snatched his phone out of his hand. You smirk for a short time and lean into his hand that's stroking your cheek. "I want you, Seonghwa," you sigh and pout. If you can't commit, you might as well commit to the lie, right? Be a little opportunistic.

"I don't care about San," you whisper and Seonghwa pulls down his glasses, making him human again.

"Really now…”

Choi San: the connection is so bad Choi San: where are you right now?

You nod and there’s a black-tinted tear rolling down your cheek, warm and melting on your skin. Seonghwa takes his thumb and glides it over the flow and holds his hand at your cheek again.

Choi San: i saw her Choi San: wtf she looked so different

You both saw the message and you both decided to ignore it. It doesn't matter anymore, his hand was already between your legs, your arousal has already coated his fingers.

That's how this works.

His touch, caressing your woeful face, his eyes pitying your pain. He's still erected, definitely impatient, but Seonghwa has something that you haven't experienced for a long time. You don't want to think of it, you can't think of it, because it might just be an illusion, but when Seonghwa slides his arms around your waist and pulls you closer to him, you have to suppress the suffocating feeling that you must never see this man ever again, if you don't want to carry this burden with you. You can't tell yourself enough, you do not want Seonghwa.

But it's nice.

"Look at yourself, Y/N. Look how pretty you are."

It's nice to know that someone wants you. That someone cares to wipe away the tears from your eyes, though they're not tears formed by a sadness you’d be able to express, a sadness that encourages you to hold eye contact with yourself, as Seonghwa whispers words of comfort into your ear. "Don't cry, pretty girl," he murmurs, and it feels like the music is being subdued around you. You've fallen from grace. “You could have anything in the world..”

How nice would it be, if he was right? You’re not sad, you have everything you could, don’t you? It could be this is just another lie you're going to commit to to protect yourself, but Seonghwa is holding you by your throat, cutting your airflow. The blood curdles in your head and while the male behind you is opening up his pants, the phone blinks.

Seonghwa and you both look down. Incoming call: Choi San.

"Oh," Seonghwa exhales and immediately checks for your reaction in the mirror, but your expression is empty. The drugs are fogging your mind and there is no ounce of vitality behind your eyes.

Seonghwa turns the phone around. "Fuck me first, Seonghwa," you tell him, your voice wispy, barely understandable, he probably had to lip-read in order to understand what you were saying, "let's get it over with."

He doesn't appreciate your dismissive tone, but Seonghwa is too horny to say anything against it, pushing you over the sink, grabbing his cock and placing it near your cunt. While your abdomen is pressed against the dirty, cold surface, Seonghwa is murmuring something under his breath and gliding his hot, throbbing erection across your pulsating folds. "I don't care at all," you whine, trying to convince yourself and ignore the continuous buzzing from his phone, but also make him hurry up. There's an end-goal you're chasing here.

"Kiss me," you order the male behind you, and as he finally positions his tip at your entrance, Seonghwa tilts your head to the side, ripping your gaze away from his mobile. "You really like kissing, don't you?", he huffs and smirks, pushing himself into you in one slow thrust. "Fuuuck," you breathe, feeling your walls expand for his length, "what about it?"

"I just think it's sweet. It makes it more personal, doesn't it?"

"Come on, Hwa, are you trying to make me angry again? I'm getting tired here," you purl and visibly roll your eyes at him, your eyelids getting heavier with each word that's spoken out loud. Your body weighs into Seonghwa's arms and if he doesn't hurry up, you'll fall asleep, your pulsating cunt tightening around his girth.

"Sweetheart, let me talk," he says, in a soft voice that makes your heart drop. You don't want him, you don't want his sweetness, fuck, you only wanted Seonghwa for this one night, for his dick and dick only, why is he trying to get inside your head? Don't do it, you try to mouth to him. You don't know him, he doesn't know you, his cock is inside your cunt, this is the worst timing to—

"You're something else."

"Seonghwa, stop, before you say anything too nice. Just close your mouth, this isn't good for both of us, you already said we're bad people. You know we don't want this," you mutter and start moving your ass to somehow get his mind elsewhere, but through his whimpers and low moans, Seonghwa won't stop grunting under the influence.

"No, speak for god-damn yourself, because, shit, Y/N, I can't watch it anymore, okay? Every day and night— You come over and let yourself be played by San, that fucking asshole, and I just think—"

"Seonghwa, shut the fuck up!", you scream and you're a breath away from pulling his cock out your cunt and leave this place naked, but just when you thought you can't do it anymore, Seonghwa has gotten his hands on your hips, digging his fingernails into your skin as if he's trying to hopelessly keep you close, his pelvis clapping against your ass, as he strikes into you.

Surprised, you moan and your fingers slip against the edge of the sink, strands of your hair falling in front of your face. You weren't prepared for that kind of vigor.

"Don't you dare think I'm that pathetic," he growls and thrusts into you with force in a rhythm that is terrifyingly close to the music outside, his cock slamming against your inner wall, making your legs close up by themselves.

"I'm not thinking I could treat you better," Seonghwa huffs and gets the hair away from your face, grabbing your hair to clear up your view, "I'm thinking what a fucking cockslut you are, Y/N."

Drugs never make sad people happier. Never make broken people whole.

So even when Seonghwa makes you realize that none of the men in your life have ever taken you serious, a hoarse laugh leaves your mouth, and you tilt your head to the back to examine the traces of them on your neck. Your eyes glisten with the way you're being fucked from behind and your mouth is not closing, you've lost control over yourself a long time ago, and it's not when this long day started with you in San's bed, it's when he took off your shirt on that random night during exam season.

"You're lucky you're pretty," he grunts and you chuckle, smiling absent-minded, upper body see-sawing with Seonghwa's pelvis-movement. Your ass is slowly hurting from how hard he is driving himself in, but you're too busy looking at your neck.

Red, red, red. A little bit of purple. A big patch here, small spots over there; anyone could look at you and would know that you've been claimed by someone. Maybe even think that you're, gasp, in a relationship! They wouldn't guess it was two people to leave these hickeys, and frankly, they would be right to think you're claimed by one person only.

"San said he'd fuck me stupid," you giggle— you're fetching old memories from your mind, re-painting the colors, completing the gaps like a mandala; the same memories from the older days which you wouldn't call better, but certainly easier; from days where you didn't have to worry about a man breaking your heart.

Seonghwa scoffs and grabs you by your tit, pulling your nipple with harsh tugs, the sensitive, delicate nub being wounded by his aggressiveness. He's stopped being gentle a long time ago, leaving a big star-shaped mark on your ass by clapping the surface of his hand.

"San said I'm his whore," you reminisce, biting your teeth through the pain, and Seonghwa is speeding up his thrusting, his cock angled inside you to entirely fill out your tight space.

"San said—"

Seonghwa has had enough. He's pressing the surface of his hand onto your mouth and nose, silencing you, cutting you short of your air, your eyes rolling back, but it doesn't prevent your thoughts to continue tumbling down. Seonghwa may be jolting his hips into you like his life depends on it, and in a way, that may be true, but he'll never pleasure you like San could.

People-pleaser. San said he was a people-pleaser.

You don't remember the orgasm, you don't remember Seonghwa's loud grunt into your ear, you don't remember how much hot cum he ejaculated into you, how panicked the black-haired was, when he asked you whether you took the pill, how quickly he became sober and put his clothes back on, the speed of time seemingly passing like a rocket-ship, the music never stopping to blitz into your brain, how the porta-potty became really fucking empty, once Seonghwa left it, but what you do remember is how you took his phone that he forgot like the dumb-ass he was, and how weak your voice sounded, when you answered San's call that by some magical way, kept ringing in.

"Can you come fetch me?"

"Who is this?"

"Come fetch me, please."

"Y/N?"

And people-pleasers should do anything to keep their people happy.

Especially if they're Choi San and avoidant of conflict.

part 4: coming soon!

#choi san smut #choi san x reader #ateez smut #ateez x reader #choi san scenarios #choi san x y/n #choi san x you #park seonghwa smut #park seonghwa scenarios #park seonghwa x reader #park seonghwa x y/n #haveyourwaywithwordsbemypeoplepleaser #chokkiwa

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creative-caramel-coffee · 6 months

Note

I miss your writing😂 I need me some weems, now idk if you’ll consider writing age regression ? Bc I have another idea if you do.

So r is depressed bc they ran out of medication and forgot to refill it since they’ve become ill (me rn it’s horrid and messing with my head) no one’s seen or heard from r and weems has to do a welfare check. Here she finds a depressed and very sick reader. She knows of readers bad back ground (they are a shifter and was found hanging onto life after being abused in a facility like hydra for shifters) so when r becomes all clingy and very child like it confessed weems. R is so touch starved it’s insane, but with weems rn she’s like a child wanting and craving the affection just needing to be held. So naturally weems does that and that’s how she discovers the fever r has and that r ran out of her meds so weems nurses her better. Oh! Could also add r isn’t sleeping bc of nightmares due to their background?

Sorry for the long request and I’m not even sure it makes sense. I need my Damn pills lmao.

🕯️

A little sick

Pairings: Weems x Reader (platonic)

Word count: 1.4K

Summary: you're sick and regressed.

TW: agre? Sickness, depression, medicine (prescription),

A/n I’ve never written this kind of thing before so tell me if any of its wrong. Cute request tho :) let me know if you like it or want to see more of this kind of thing.

Part 2

Waking up and feeling like your bones were made of lead was not the way you wanted to start the day. It took all of your strength to pull yourself upright. Standing on shaky legs you wobble over to your dresser pulling out the pouch of pills that helped you with the aftermath of the facility and the depression it left. You knew firsthand how bad it could be to be a shapeshifter. Hunted and experimented on. You drew a deep breath pushing the thoughts away and exhaling slowly and shakily.

Unzipping the pouch, you frowned. All the blister packets were empty. You were out. You slouched dejectedly. It was going to be a long day. Yoko had already left for classes and to be honest you didn’t really think you could make it to the wardrobe to get changed let alone all the way to class. You sighed dejectedly and hobbled back to bed and laid down on your back staring at the roof. The feelings were getting harder to push away.

Your chest felt hollow, and you choked back a sob. The last time you were sick … was back there and to be honest you had no idea what would happen if someone found out here.

You zoned out feeling a familiar fuzzy feeling swallow your mind. You tried to push it away which only seemed to make you headache unbearable. The pain was what made you slip. Dropping hard, you felt your body shift. Soon the bed felt much bigger as you curled into a ball and cried. You were tired but scared to sleep, the nightmares seemed to be ever persistent.

You had no idea how long you had been crying, small sobs wracking the tiny body on the bed. Soon a knock sounded on the door.

Weems had had reports all day that you had been absent. Knowing your history with depression she knew it was imperative to do a welfare check as soon as she could. Looking at her calendar she swore. She had a copy if the nurses schedule for meds and prescription refills. Yours were out and it looked like nobody had picked up more for you.

She finally signed off the email she had spent the morning drafting to the mayor. Closing her laptop she toed on her heels, opting to take them off to give her feet a break when sitting and stood smoothing out her skirt. She hurried out the door and to your dorm. Hearing small noises inside she hesitated before knocking, she knew you were in there was was slightly terrified of what she would find inside the dorm.

Hearing the soft knock on the door you wiped a small fist over your eyes and sat up still silent tears running down your cheeks. You waited and heard the door open.

Weems peered into the dimly lit room; the windows still drawn. She saw a small lump on the bed and slowly walked over. The closer she got the more shocked she became. Why was there a toddler in the dorm and why did she look exactly like … y/n?

Small sad eyes looked up at her and sniffled. Weems stood awkwardly not really knowing what to do. She had a suspicion. She knew you were a shifter like herself. She looked down at you and it clicked. It made sense with the amount of trauma you had. You had regressed both physically and mentally to a child. Looking down at the sad child, you looked up at her and extended your arms.

“Up?” You asked with childlike innocence. Weems felt her heart melt. Gently she placed her hands under your arms and lifted you onto her hip. Almost straight away you buried your face in her neck, and she let out a soft gasp.

You were face too warm. Gently she peeled your face from her neck so she could look you in the eyes while she bounced you on her hip. You let out a soft whine at the loss of contact and weems shushed you as she placed a gentle hand against your cheek then forehead.

“Oh honey. Are you not feeling too good right now?” She asked. “Do you feel icky?” She said and you nodded and sniffled, the tears slowing.

“Alright. Well, we are going to get you some medicine then we are going to come back to my place for some sleep.” She said and you whined.

“No sleep.” You pouted and Weems frowned. “Cuddles?” You asked.

“Ok sweet girl you can have cuddles but why no sleep?” She asked.

“Mean dreams.” You pouted and she felt her heart break. Of course, you had bad dreams, that was almost assured with what you had been through. Why didn’t she think of that. Patting you back she used a hand to guide you back to her neck as you put your thumb in your mouth.

Weems winced knowing it probably wasn’t clean but there wasn’t much she could do about it right now and she preferred it to the crying. Holding you on her hip with one arm and the other on the back of your head she saw a small white fluffy thing under your blanket walking over and pulling out the stuffie you brightened as she tucked it between you and her chest as you wrapped you free arm around it.

“Alright honey let’s go get some medicine for you.” She said and left. She knew the school week enough to make sure nobody would see the two of you, God the rumours would be endless if students saw weems with a child. Careful to avoid any class windows Weems made it to the infirmary. As a shapeshifter herself she knew that the doses of medicine would need to match the physical size of the body. Balancing you on her hip she looked into your eyes.

“How old are you sweetheart?” She asked and you looked at her shyly holding up four fingers and puffing your chest out.

“Im four.” You grinned.

“Wow. Big girl huh?” She asked and you smiled wider.

Weems pulled out the bottle of medicine labeled 3-6 and any other supplies she would need. Carefully making her way back to her office she slipped back into her own quarters to take care of you.

You whined as she set you down on the couch but stopped as she lifted you back into her lap. You sure were clingy like this. Measuring out a dose of medicine Weems coaxed you into drinking it which made you stick your tongue out in disgust after.

“Yucky.” You said. Weems chuckled.

“Im sure it was sweet girl.” She said and stroked your hair. You buried your face in her chest and fisted your hands in her shirt.

“Alright bedtime. I think someone needs a nap huh?” She said and you whined.

“Nooo.” You said.

“Alright how about some cuddles instead?” Weems asked and you smiled.

“Cuddles?”

“Yes. Cuddles.”

“Yay cuddles.” You celebrated.

“Alright sweet thing lets go to my bedroom and we can cuddle.” She said knowing you would fall asleep in no time. Curling into her chest more and wrapping you small arms around Weems she felt her heart melt again as she ran her nails up and down your spine. You shivered and enjoyed the touch.

After a few minutes you seemed to be fighting sleep, eyes drooping before flying wide open again with a small whimper.

“Honey whats the matter? Why won’t you sleep love?” Weems asked softly.

“Bad dreams.” You whimpered softly and weems patted your back running her hands through your short hair. It was much shorter than normal probably from the shift.

“Honey, you need to sleep, I’ll be here the whole time. I won’t leave your side, ok? Do you think you could be a brave girl and get some sleep for me?” She asked softly.

Burrowing your face into her neck you nodded and shuffled around to get comfy. Weems knew either way based off how exhausted you seemed you would be asleep soon regards of what you wanted.

And as predicted after about five more minutes weems felt your breath even out against her chest and heard small snores coming from you. She smiled softly down at you and decided then and there she would never let anything hurt you again.

MASTERLIST

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clementine-writes-things · 15 days

Text

Roommates - E.N

(this takes place BEFORE he becomes the riddler. I wanted to write what I thought he would have been like before, so here ya go. metal head, introverted, smoker, emo Edward. lmao. also, I watched Little Miss Sunshine and fucking loved it, highly recommend. ALSO, i realize that it's very unrealistic for a small apartment to have two bedrooms EACH with their own bathrooms, but SHUT UP I DIDN'T THINK ABOUT THAT <3 so pls ignore that in this fic)

Summary: Edward Nashton: a quiet, reserved, heavy metal loving introvert. Y/n: a friendly, outgoing, hyper extrovert. Very different personalities. Though, opposites do attract.

Word Count: 10,797 (guys, what is happening to my fanfics, they are getting so long...is this a good thing?)

Content Warning: Smut, explicit language, hinting of r*pe, hinting of drugging a drink, knife, penetration, corruption kink, virgin!reader, daddy kink (brief), kind of stupid!Reader (that's mean to say but true), dom!Edward, Edward being a HUGE 'simp' for y/n, sub!Reader, praising, ed guides y/n through sex, gentle sex that turns rough later on, fingering, oral fem receiving, aftercare. (There might be grammar mistakes cuz I'm reading this over at 1:30 am, so please cut me some slack I have class in the morning lol. Hopefully the errors aren't too bad. If so, I'm sorry pookies <3 I promise the fic is still good!)

Songs For Inspo:

Kunst - KMFDM

Custer - Slipknot

Sweating Bullets - Megadeth (my FAVORITE metal band, Dave Mustaine ik ur like over 60 but we can figure something out, please u were so hot in the 80's and u still are plssssss...)

Bounce! - System Of A Down (love them sm)

Revenga - System Of A Down (one of my fav songs by them)

Freak On a Leash - Korn (yoNatooRADatEDotRAndat - John Davis in his songs)

Chop Chop Slide - Insane Clown Posse (edward would SO listen to them, not listening to any other opinions. also this song is so funny like its the cupid shuffle but violent.)

Heavy Metal Lover - Lady Gaga

Eddie My Love - The Chordettes

Vacation Bible School - Ayesha Erotica

Daddy AF - Slayyyter (Edward is so daddy AF guys, i don't think u understand fr like i want this man to *censored*)

(picturing Edward Nashton as a metalhead is hot to me and I feel like it is EXTREMELY accurate for his character. Like, he's an introverted lunatic...he definitely loves metal. This is now a personal headcanon of mine.)

~Read Below Cut~

"Oh, you precious thing..." Edward cooed, reaching down and stroking her hair.

Y/n looked up at him, eyes wide and mouth slightly agape. He chuckled, trailing his hand away from her hair and down to her chin. Gently, he pulled at y/n's bottom lip with his thumb. Y/n squeezed her thighs together.

"Do you want me to fuck you?" He asked sweetly, a hint of desire lacing his tone.

Y/n whimpered, breathing heavily. She didn't even know how to respond to his question. It was so bold and blunt, something that he was able to be with ease. But y/n had a hard time with that, unable to get her thoughts out fully. She nodded, lips forming a pitiful pout as she looked up at him. Edward bent back down to her level, grabbing her leg gently and lifting it up. Slowly, he trailed kisses up her shin, over her knee, and up to the bottom of her thigh. Y/n shivered at the feeling of his lips against her skin.

"Yeah? You want me to fuck you, angel? I need to hear you say it."

"Y-Yes, Eddie, please..." She whined.

He smiled, looking up into her eyes as he planted another kiss on her knee. Edward's eyes were glazed with adoration and love, lust only a small part of the glint. He desired y/n, yes, that was a fact. But, he didn't want her in an animalistic way, no not at all. He so badly wanted to pop her cherry gently, showing her how much he loved her with his body. There was plenty of time for more rough and kinky acts in the future, but you didn't get another chance at your first time. And Edward wanted y/n's first time to be loving, caring, fun, meaningful, and passionate.

"I'll give it to you angel, I promise. I'm going to show you what sex is, what it means, and I'll show you how much I love you through it."

-3 months before-

Edward heard a knock at the door just barely through the music he had playing. Groaning, he got up from his desk in his bedroom, walking out into the living room. His hair was a mess, black streaks scattered throughout his hair due to a crappy dye job he did. A lit cigarette hung from in between his lips as he opened the door. Grabbing the cig, he held it between his pointer and middle finger. Before him was a young girl, maybe a year younger than him, with a bunch of boxes and a single suitcase. He raised an eyebrow at her.

"Hi! I'm your new roommate! Y/n L/n! We talked over the phone, remember!?" She exclaimed, reaching out and shaking his hand rapidly.

Edward instantly grimaced.

"Oh, how could I forget..." He mumbled.

"These are all my things, is it ok if I come in?" She asked politely, a bright smile on her face.

"Um, yeah. Do you want help carrying your stuff in?" He begrudgingly asked, putting out his cigarette on the ashtray near the door.

"Oh, that would be so nice! Thank you!" Y/n beamed.

Edward started to bring in some boxes, moving them to the spare bedroom. Y/n grabbed a box as well, looking around the apartment. She didn't like that he smoked inside, but she felt better when she noticed he had a window open. She really appreciated that. With a bounce in her step, y/n brought back boxes to her new room. The metal music that Edward was listening to was still playing in the back, fairly loudly.

"You have the same music taste as my dad!" She commented, smiling.

Edward froze in place, box in hand as he looked at her. His face was blank, only a look of confusion in his eyes. Y/n felt herself blush and quickly got back to moving things to her room. Edward rolled his eyes as he placed the last box on her bed. He shoved his hands in his pockets, looking at the contents scattered all over the floor.

"You've got a lot of clothes..." He stated.

"They aren't all clothes!" She laughed, finding it amusing that he thought that.

"Then what the hell do you have in these boxes?" He asked, regretting it instantly, because he truthfully did not care.

Y/n looked around for something to open up a cardboard box with. She looked at the desk in her room, smiling when she saw a pencil. Grabbing it, she stabbed it through the tape and Edward flinched, taking a step back. Y/n ripped the tape away with help from the hole she punched in it. She picked it up and angled it slightly so Edward could see the contents. He opened it up, looking inside and raising an eyebrow, glancing back up at y/n. Pulling out a picture, he looked at it and laughed.

"A bunch of cartoon horses?" He asked.

"It's the Mane 6 from My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, thank you very much!" She huffed.

"Alright then, well I'm going to leave. Have fun unpacking the things you stole from an 8 year old." He commented before leaving her room.

"That's so rude!"

The two of them instantly recognized how different their personalities were. It was a little jarring at first, living with someone who was the complete opposite of them. But, Edward tried to keep to himself a lot. However, y/n found herself becoming more and more interest in Edward. She definitely had a type...

Tall.

Metalhead.

Slightly scary/intimidating.

Looks a little bit homeless.

He checked off all the requirements on y/n's list....

-2 weeks after moving in-

Y/n's room was fully decorated and furnished. The bed that was already in the room now had pink and white bedsheets with lace on the ends. A bunch of fairly lights were strung about the room and she had all her posters hung up. Shelves were lined with stuffed animals, figurines, and candles. Y/n's room smelled like fruit punch and flowers, if that made any sense. Her room was so cozy and homey, just how she wanted it. Though, most people would say it was too cheery and bubbly for a bedroom. And, those people were dead wrong in y/n's opinion. Y/n was currently listening to music and dancing in her room on top of the fluffy pastel pink rug she had. She was wearing a pair of black leggings that flared at the bottom and a hot pink spaghetti strap tank top. Underneath that she was wearing a white lacy bra. Edward was at work today, so she wasn't worried about the music being too loud.

"Sometimes I wonder if you still wanna fuck me..." She giggled to the lyrics, spinning out of her room.

The white socks she wore caused her to slid across the tiled floor of the kitchen. She swayed her hips back and forth, dancing to the fairly erotic song that was playing. Opening the pantry door, she grabbed a box of cheez-its. Y/n took a bowl from one of the cabinets and poured some of the crackers in. She put the box away and started to snack on the cheez-its. The sound of the front door opening was drowned out by the loud music. Y/n was dancing away, oblivious to the fact that Edward was watching her dance as he put away his keys and coat.

'Well, it's fine because I'm a whore'

'And I sleep with guys just for fun and drugs'

Y/n was still swaying her hips around, jumping up and down slightly. Edward chuckled, stuffing his hands into his pockets, one of which had a chain dangling next to it. Y/n turned around eyes closed as she sang the lyrics, opening slightly at the end.

"Vacation Bible Schoooo..." She froze, hands in the air.

"Hey." He said, eyes heavy and tired.

The music continued playing in the background, causing Edward to smile slightly. Y/n let her hands fall to her sides, a blush on her face. She cleared her throat, grabbing a cheez-it.

"Hello Edward, nice day outside, right?" She asked, placing the cheez-it in her mouth.

"Yeah, really good day to listen to bimbo music in my kitchen." He commented.

"Shut up."

The two roommates had grown tolerable of the other after some time. Y/n was still absolutely obsessed with Edward, finding his mysterious and intimidating nature addicting. Every time he was near her or talked to her, she felt her stomach do backflips. And, Edward was no idiot. He knew how she felt. He was a genius, for sure, but it didn't take a genius to know how y/n felt about him. He didn't want to act on it just yet, even though he felt himself getting feelings for her as well. But, he did enjoy purposefully teasing her. It was a fun little game for him.

-1 month after moving in-

It was around 10 in the morning and y/n sat on the couch, bundled up in blankets. She was as snug as a bug in a rug. It was her day off from work, and she didn't really have much planned. Because of this, she decided that she would watch a bunch of Pixar movies, starting with Cars. Cars was one of those movies that y/n could watch over and over and never get tired of.

"Where is it...?" Edward mumbled.

Y/n realized that she forgot to tell Edward that she had the day off. It aligned well with his work schedule, as he didn't work today either. She wanted to ask him if he wanted to watch Pixar movies with her. Though, she figured that he would say no, in classic Edward fashion. Y/n looked to her right, ready to ask Edward, but her face flushed instantly. Edward stood in the living room, looking around with a towel wrapped around his waist. He was completely naked, other than the towel of course. His hair was slightly dry, though still damp in most places. Y/n couldn't see his eyes that well because his hair hung in his face, covering most of his face up. Edward looked up, not really reacting when he saw y/n.

"Oh, hey y/n. Aren't you supposed to be at work?" He asked, hand gripping his towel.

"U-Um, today is m-my day off. I meant t-to tell you, but I fo-forgot..." She stuttered.

Edward took in her flustered appearance, knowing the affect he had over her. Sighing, he ran a hand through his hair, getting it out of his face. Y/n watched with her eyes wide as he continued to walk around the living room.

"Have you seen my shirt? The uh...the...oh the Slayer shirt." He asked.

Edward looked towards y/n, mouth forming an 'o' as he saw the shirt resting on the top of the couch behind her. He walked over, leaning down slowly, making sure to get as close to y/n as possible. Based on how stiff she became, Edward could tell that he was definitely doing a good job at teasing her.

"Here it is. Oh, are you watching Cars? That's a good move. Mind if I watch it with you?" He asked, voice coarse from smoking a cigarette earlier.

"Oh, u-um, sure yeah. I was g-gonna ask you that actually." She mumbled.

"Alright, well I'm going to get changed. I'll be back."

Over the next few months, y/n and Edward's attraction to each other grew stronger. Y/n would follow Edward around like a dog after it's owner, and it was extremely apparent to him. One night, y/n decided she would go out to a party with her friends from work. Not wanting to be alone, even though she knew most of the people, she invites Edward.

-2 months after moving in-

Y/n knocked on Edward's bedroom door, a System Of A Down song playing loudly on his speakers. Shuffling was heard from behind the door, and then the music was turned down, but not too much. The door swung open to reveal Edward, who leaned against the doorframe. He had a very slightly cropped black tank top on with the skull from Megadeth on it, a few small holes ripped in it. His jeans were washed out and a chain dangled from one of his pockets. Y/n could see his happy trail above his belt, and she felt her breath hitch. Edward pushed his glasses up, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Yeah?" He asked.

"Oh, um...I'm going to a a work friend's party tonight. Just a few drinks and music, stuff like that. I was wondering if you uh, if you might wanna go with me?" She asked, fidgeting with her hands as she looked at the floor.

Edward smirked, noticing how shy y/n was at the moment. It was clear that she desperately wanted him to go with her. He usually didn't like parties, but he couldn't say no to her face. Not when she looked so small in front of him, so needy for his presence at all times. It fed his ego for sure, but it was also nice to be wanted.

"Is there a dress code or some shit?" He asked.

"N-No, I don't think so? If there is then she never mentioned it."

"Ok, then this is what I'm wearing." He said.

"So, does that mean you're coming?" Y/n asked, excitement lacing her voice.

"Sure. I don't have any other plans."

"Yay! I'm going to go get ready right now! We need to leave in 30 minutes!" Y/n squealed, running to her room.

Edward watched her, closing the door to his bedroom a few seconds after. He turned the music off, knowing that they would be leaving soon. Opening his closet, he looked for a jacket to wear over his tank top. Grunting, he grabbed the first one he saw, which was denim. He had patches sewn on it, each from different bands he listened to. He also sewed a bunch of green question marks into it. Shrugging, he slid the jacket on and grabbed a pack of smokes from off his nightstand. His lighter was already in his pocket, so he grabbed his pocket knife and put it in his back pocket. You could never be too safe in Gotham. Even he knew that. As he walked out of his bedroom and closed the door behind him, he wondered about what he just agreed to. If y/n's friends were anything like her, then he would have a headache within the first 5 minutes. Sighing, he grabbed his wallet from off of the table next to the front door and put it in his other front pocket. He could hear music from y/n's room as the shower cut off. A couple seconds later he could hear the hairdryer. Y/n usually liked to take her time getting ready, but if there was a time limit then she could get ready extremely fast. She always liked to be early to everything, which was a good thing. Edward was the same way.

"Can't even drink while I'm there..." He mumbled, realizing that should be prepared to be the designated driver.

After about 10 minutes, y/n came out of her bedroom. She had on a lacy spaghetti strap tank top, it was a soft purple in color. Her pants were ripped denim shorts, which was a good choice since it was summer in Gotham. Y/n's hair was let down, wavy in some places and curly in others, chaotic but cute, just like her. Underneath her hair was a white ribbon that tied into a quaint bow on the top of her head, off-centered on purpose so it wasn't so symmetrical. Blush adorned her cheeks and the tip of her nose. Her eyelashes were accentuated with mascara, a glittery eyeshadow with no color covered her eyelids. Y/n's lips were plumped up with a shiny pink lip-gloss. Edward felt heat rush to his face, and he quickly looked away.

"Ok! I'm done! Just gotta get shoes on!" Y/n cheered, rushing to the door.

Edward stood up, watching her as she bent over and slid on light blue converse. The shoes had tiny gems on the edges, and stickers on the top of it. He remembered when she customized them. He walked in the living room one night to see her hunched over them, it was really amusing. Clearing his throat, he slid his combat boots on. Y/n grabbed her purse and Edward grabbed his car keys.

"You're gonna have to tell me the directions." He said.

"Oh, are you driving?"

"I was hoping we could take my car."

"Aw, but I wanna take my car..." Y/n pouted.

He grunted, closing his eyes shut. Mumbling under his breath he pinched the bridge of his nose. Edward let out a sigh and placed his keys back on the table.

"Ffffine."

"Yay!"

Edward was slumped in the passenger seat of y/n's soft pink mini cooper. The interior was light brown leather, and it smelled just like her room, like fruit punch. Tiny little stuffed animals, beanie babies, and squishmallows were in her backseat. One beanie baby, which was a unicorn, was in the corner of her dashboard, in front of Edward. Y/n giggled, turning into the driveway of her friends house. She got out of the car quickly, shutting the door behind her. Edward got out too, hitting his head on the roof of the inside of the car. Wincing, he cursed under his breath. Once he was out he closed the door, hearing y/n lock the door shortly after.

"Your car makes me stick out like a sore thumb." He said.

"Yep! I know! Now, let's go!" Y/n said, skipping to the front door.

Edward shoved his hands in his pockets, following y/n slowly. The only reason he agreed to coming was to make sure y/n was safe. He hated going to parties, and he didn't even know the people, so it was even worse. But, it's hard to say no when y/n gives him puppy dog eyes. Stepping up on the front porch, y/n knocked rapidly on the door, ringing the doorbell twice after. Edward chuckled softly, standing behind her. When the door opened, y/n was practically bouncing in place.

"Oh, y/n! Hey! I was worried you weren't coming!" Her friend said.

"Sorry, Emily, we got stuck in traffic." Y/n said, gesturing to Edward.

Emily looked behind y/n, looking Edward up and down. He looked ominous towering over behind y/n. His eyes were tired and he smelled like leather and pine.

"Oh, you'll have to introduce everyone to him. Me included. But, please, come in! It's really hot outside. We've got AC in here." Emily said, moving aside so they could walk in.

"Thanks Emmy!" Y/n walked inside, Edward following close behind.

With how close Edward was following y/n, you'd think that he'd be scared to leave her side. But, he wasn't. Not even close. He didn't look like a lost puppy, he looked like a rabid attack dog that would maul someone if they breathed a little too hard. He was like a bodyguard following y/n around. Everyone looked towards y/n, smiling when they saw her. At work, y/n was considered the nicest and friendliest person. But, that also led to people taking advantage of her. Asking her to cover shifts, stay late, and even do other peoples jobs. Edward knew about all of this, because y/n would tell him about it. It was sad that she didn't realize it was manipulation. This was partially another reason that Edward came: to make sure that y/n wasn't coerced into doing something for someone. He didn't want to see her come home 3 hours past when her shift ended for the 3rd time this week.

"Hey girl! Oh, who's Mr. Tall, scary, and hostile?" A girl asked.

Edward looked at her, his face emotionless and dull. The girl looked away quickly, feeling uncomfortable under his gaze. Y/n smiled as everyone gathered around, it wasn't that many people, maybe 10 people. That was without including her and Edward. Emily was there as well. Placing her hands on Edward's shoulder, y/n shook him lightly, not getting a reaction from him. A few people chuckled, causing Edward to grunt lightly.

"This is my roommate, Edward! I'd be living on the streets without him!"

"Oh, THAT Edward! Y/n talks about you all the time at work!" One guy said, taking a sip of his drink.

Edward smirked slightly, letting it fall as quickly as it appeared. Y/n awkwardly laughed, brushing the comment off.

"Uh, where's the drinks at? I'm parched!" She asked.

"In the kitchen, and outside we have music playing, we have a pool too. Though, I forgot to mention that to everyone. So, only go for a swim if you're ok with not having a change of clothes." Emily laughed.

"I already know someone is going to get so drunk they jump in. And, it won't be me. Maybe." Y/n smiled.

Emily turned to Edward.

"Do you want a drink, Edward?" She asked.

"I'll take a Coke." Was all he said.

"I'll get it for ya!" Y/n smiled, going to the kitchen.

Some people in the house made their way outside, other's sat on the couch in the living room and talked. Edward leaned against the wall that connected to the banister of the staircase. He crossed his arms over his chest as he watched y/n in the kitchen, ignoring basically everyone around him.

"So, what's it like living with y/n?" Emily asked.

Edward raised an eyebrow, breaking eye contact with y/n to look at the fairly tall woman. He shrugged, sighing as he looked up at the ceiling.

"It was jarring at first, she's pretty hyper. But, I'm getting used to it." He replied simply.

"Well, Adam was right earlier. She does talk about you a lot. Don't tell her I said that though." She laughed.

"Uh huh." He mumbled.

Emily took this as a sign to walk away, which Edward greatly appreciated. He was not one for socializing. Hence, why he doesn't like parties. Shortly after, y/n came back from the kitchen. She gave Edward a can of Coke, and took a sip of the drink she got.

"What did you get?" He asked.

"Margarita. Well, a poorly made one. But, a margarita nonetheless." She replied, giggling.

"Alright."

"You wanna go outside?" Y/n asked.

"Sure, I need a smoke anyways." He grunted.

The two of them walked outside, Edward glaring at some of her coworkers as they did so. His glasses caught the reflection of the moon, and he leaned against the outside of the house. Placing his coke down on the porch banister, he pulled out a cigarette. With it between his lips, he lit the end of it and took a drag. He blew smoke to his left, making sure it was going away from the backdoor, not wanting to get smoke inside the host's house. Watching y/n, he noticed her talking to a few people, coworkers no doubt. The sound of crickets and frogs in the summer night comforted Edward and made him feel relaxed. Taking another drag, he blew it to his side again. Y/n had already drank her entire margarita. She came back to the patio and looked at Edward, pointing at her drink.

"Gonna get another!" She said.

He nodded curtly, confused as to why she told him. He wasn't in charge of her. She could do what she wanted. He took another puff from his cigarette. The two guys that y/n was talking to approached him. He raised an eyebrow, looking up at them from his hunched over posture.

"Yeah?" He asked, voice hoarse.

"You're y/n's roommate?" One guy asked.

"Last time I checked." He answered.

"Can you do us a solid?" The other one asked.

Edward didn't answer, only looked at them. The guy on the left elbowed the guy on the right softly, chuckling. Ed took another drag from his cigarette.

"Is she a good fuck?" One of them asked.

"Yeah, she seems like she'd open her legs for a good price." The other commented.

Edward's eyes narrowed as he finished his drag, blowing the smoke directly at them. He mumbled under his breath, something about how gross they were. The two men coughed, trying to wave away the smoke. Edward straightened his posture, fixing his glasses that were slightly crooked.

"What the fuck, man?" One guy asked.

"That was a dick move!" The other said.

Edward put his cigarette out on the bottom of his boots. He glanced to his left and saw an ashtray on the banister. He dropped the cigarette in there. Noticing he had a few ashes on the tips of his fingers, he brushed them off on the shirts of the two guys.

"Mhm." He grunted, walking away from them and going inside.

Edward didn't bother saying anything to the two men, it would be a waste of his breath. But, he did know that he didn't want y/n to be anywhere near those cretins. He went to the kitchen, seeing y/n pour herself another margarita. Walking up to her, Edward tapped her on the shoulder. She turned around, take a huge gulp of her drink, smiling wide at him after.

"Hi Eddie!" She giggled.

"How many drinks have you had?"

"Well...th-this is my 4th one..." She hiccupped.

"I see. Well, I think it's getting late. We should head back home." He said.

Just as he said that, one of y/n's coworkers walked up to the kitchen counter. She leaned over, propping her elbows up and letting her cleavage show. Edward looked at her and rolled his eyes, looking back at y/n.

"Hey girly~ tell me about your friend here. He seems interesting." She winked at him.

"Oh! W-Well-"

"I'm not interested." He replied curtly.

The girl scoffed, standing up. She mumbled under her breath.

'Prick.'

Edward looked back at y/n, seeing that she was absolutely wasted. He sighed, wrapping an arm around her shoulder. The two men from early walked in and Edward glared at them. Leading y/n to the living room, he whispered down in her ear discreetly.

"We need to leave, ok? I'll tell you why when we get in your car."

She nodded, unsure of why Edward wanted to leave so bad. But, after living with him for a little over 2 months, she trusted him. Y/n glanced over her shoulder and saw two guys staring at her. She looked back at Edward and he nodded subtly. Y/n took this as a signal to say bye to her coworkers.

"H-Hey guysss, it's g-getting late. I think weee're gonna go hooome." She said, smiling drunkenly.

"Aw, already? It's only been an hour since you got here! Stay longer, you're always the life of the party!" One girl with a braid said.

Edward squeezed her shoulder reassuringly, knowing how easily she was influenced by her coworkers. She fidgeted with the hem of her tank top, drinking the rest of her margarita. She shook her head.

"N-No, sorry..."

"Ok, well, before you leave, do you think you can cover a shift for me this weekend? I know you don't work weekends, but I have a concert to go to and I really don't want to miss it." A guy said.

"Well, I-I sup-pose..."

Y/n looked up at Edward, seeing that he was watching the two guys in the kitchen. They were eyeing up y/n, and y/n finally noticed that. She shook her head.

"No, I can't. We-We're leaving nowww, bye everyone." She slurred.

Before anyone could say anything, Edward made sure y/n had her purse on her and they left the living room. He guided her to the front door, watching the two guys as he opened up the door for her. He quickly followed her, closing the door and helping her go down the steps. Edward opened up the passenger door for her, making sure she buckled herself in. He groaned before getting in the driver seat of the pastel pink mini cooper. He felt like a giant in the vehicle.

"Who were those two guys?" He asked, buckling up and backing out of the driveway.

"J-Josh and Aaron..." She stuttered.

"Don't ever talk to them at work. Don't ever accept anything from them and do your best to not work a shift alone with them." He demanded, his tone serious and instructive.

Y/n nodded.

"W-Why?" She asked.

Edward sighed, gripping the steering wheel as he put the blinker on. He turned left and glanced quickly at y/n.

"They asked me a very disgusting question about you. And then they made a gross comment on you." He said.

"Like w-what?" She asked.

Edward scoffed, stopping at a red light.

"Well, one of them asked me if you were a good fuck. And then the other one said that you seemed like you'd open your legs up for a good price." He said through gritted teeth.

Y/n went quiet, giggling drunkenly. Edward didn't understand why she found it amusing. But, he assumed that she was just drunk and laughing it off. Deep down, it probably made her very uncomfortable.

"I've n-never even fucked anyone bef-fore." She hiccupped.

Edward found this comment surprising. He figured a beautiful girl like her would have had plenty of sexual encounters. But, here he was, being proved wrong. Still, he shrugged and turned onto their block.

"Don't let them know that. Knowing how creepy they are, they'll probably find a way to twist that and sexualize you in ways no one ever should. They seem like the kind of people to fantasize about...taking advantage of you..." He said, shuddering at the thought, the words feeling like poison on his tongue.

Y/n mumbled to herself, staring out the window. Edward sighed, pulling into the parking garage of their apartment building. Parking the car, he got out and closed his door. Walking around the car, he opened up y/n's door and helped her get out. She groaned, the salt from the rim of her margarita cup stuck to the corners of her lips. Edward huffed, letting y/n hold onto his arm for stability. She was absolutely hammered. It was clear that she could not hold her drink well. Locking the car, Edward put the keys in his pocket and helped y/n up the stairs. When they reached their apartment, Edward unlocked the door and opened it up. Y/n went straight for the bathroom and Edward heard her gag over the toilet. Sliding off his boots, he hung his denim jacket up and picked up y/n's shoes that she removed when running to the bathroom. He walked to the kitchen, grabbing a sticky note from off the counter and picked up the pen next to it. Scribbling something down, he slapped the note onto the door of the fridge.

'Josh/Aaron=shit'

He grinned, proud of the little reminder he posted up. When the two of them needed to remember something, or communicate with the other, they would leave post-it notes on the fridge. It was usually used to let the other know if there was no milk left, or if a certain food was theirs. But, this worked good too. Edward walked to the bathroom, knocking on the door. Y/n didn't respond, but he heard a flush. The faucet of the sink ran for a little while, and then the door opened up. Y/n's mascara ran down her face slightly.

"You ok?" He asked.

"Y-Yeah...just wanna go to bed..." She mumbled, tears forming in her eyes.

Edward watched as she went to her bedroom, about to turn around to go to his own. Her meek voice caused him to stop, looking back towards her.

"Th-thank you for getting me out of there. I d-don't know why I hang out with those people..." She sniffled.

"Don't thank me, y/n. That's the whole reason I went."

"What reason?"

Edward grinned, pulling out the pocket knife he had in his back pocket. Y/n's eyes widened slightly and she blushed subtly. She felt butterflies in her stomach at the sight.

"To make sure you were safe."

After that incident, y/n felt safer with Edward than she had ever felt with anyone else in her life. Her fascination with Edward turned into full love. Edward felt love towards y/n as well, feeling the urge to protect her at all times. What started off as two roommates finding each other annoying, had evolved into love and adoration. One night, Edward notices how shy y/n is around him. She tells him that she has feelings for him, and he listens to every word of it.

-3 months after moving in-

Y/n sighed, a pen and paper on her desk as she sketched away. She couldn't get his eyes out of her head. His dark, tired, mysterious eyes that hid behind his messy bangs. She giggled as she remembered seeing him in only a towel, recalling how it made her stomach do backflips. A knock at her door snapped her out of her thoughts, causing her to turn down the music that played from her speaker. It was her playlist she listened to when she was in a really happy mood, so basically, it was music that Edward wouldn't listen to. She looked in the mirror, making sure her hair was cute. She was wearing a peachy color oversized t-shirt that she got from a thrift store. It ended just in the middle of her thighs, hiding the cream colored panties she was wearing. Opening the door, she looked up at Edward who stood before her. A dark olive green tank top covered his chest, his arms on display, and a pair of flannel pants hid his legs away. The black socks he wore contrasted heavily against her pink ones.

"Hey, Eddie. D-Do you need something? Is my music too loud?" She asked, feeling sheepish.

"Huh? Oh, no it's not. Uh, I was wondering if you had anything to eat yet? I haven't had something to eat, so I figured I'd just order some pizza or some shit." He said, stretching his arms upwards, revealing his happy trail.

Y/n's eyes trailed down slightly, but quickly flicked back up to his own. She shook her head, clearing her throat. Edward tilted his head to the side slightly.

"Uh, no. I haven't had anything to eat yet. P-Pizza sounds good." She stuttered, trying to hide the notebook that she was drawing by blocking it from his vision.

Edward noticed how awkward she was being, and decided to make it worse, just for fun. He pulled his phone out of his pocket and walked in y/n's room. Sitting down on her bed, he was careful not to sit on any stuffed animals. Last time he did that she nearly ripped his face off. Y/n shyly sat back at her desk, trying to ignore the fact that he was ordering food in her room. However, she took advantage of this and took occasional glances at his eyes, using them as references to get a more accurate drawing of his eyes. Edward watched as she scribbled away, placing the order over the phone. Once it was placed, he hung up and slid the phone back into his pocket. Getting up from the bed, he walked over and looked over y/n's shoulder.

"They said it'll be at least 15 minutes." He briefly explained.

Y/n flinched when she realized he was behind her. Frozen in place, she watched in terror as Edward picked up the notebook, looking at the sketches of his eyes. He chuckled, placing the notebook back down.

"Those are pretty good, you really captured how tired I look all the time." He said, being serious about his compliment.

"Th-Thank you..." She stuttered.

Her heart felt like it was about to burst with him standing behind her. Slowly, she turned around in the chair and stood up. Edward watched as she walked to her bed, picking up a hello kitty plush and fidgeting with it. She looked nervous, and Edward had a good idea as to why. Y/n sat on the edge of her bed, watching as Edward leaned against the wall that was directly in front of her.

"Um, E-Edward?" She asked.

"Uh huh?"

"There's something I need to tell you..."

He nodded, grabbing y/n's chair from her desk. Pulling it towards him, he sat in it, getting close to her. She felt her heart race, the moment feeling intimate with him being in front of her. Letting out a shaky breath, y/n fidgeted with the plush in her lap.

"W-When I first moved in with you...I was really skeptical..." She started.

He listened intently, spreading his legs slightly as he leaned back into the chair. Y/n swallowed, her throat suddenly feeling dry. His presence was enough to make y/n feel anxious.

"But, I c-couldn't help but notice that I had f-feelings...for you..." She mumbled.

"Oh really?" He asked, not surprised at all.

"Y-Yeah...I think I...I think I love you...Edward..."

He nodded, his glasses glinting from the fairy lights that were hung in y/n's room. She anxiously awaited his response. Her eyes stayed on him as he stood up, pushing the chair back to where he got it from. Taking a few steps, he stood directly in front of y/n. Sighing, he knelt down, looking up at her as he gently held her hands in his.

"I know you love me, y/n. I've known for a while. I've felt the same." He said, rubbing over her knuckles with his thumbs.

Y/n's eyes widened and she felt heat rush to her cheeks. She was stunned by his gentle demeanor, not used to it. He was usually gruff and blunt. Sure, he could be nice and caring every now and then, but this time he was being vulnerable.

"You mean..."

"Yes, y/n. I love you, too." He reassured, kissing her hand.

Y/n gasped softly, unable to comprehend what was happening before her. She watched as he reached his hand up slowly, cupping the side of her face in his palm. He hummed to himself, the music that played softly in the background providing a nice ambience, even if it was y/n's hyperpop music.

"I don't know how else to ask you, y/n, so I'll just say it." He said, sitting up, meeting her eye line.

"Will you be my girlfriend? I probably made that sound like we're in middle school, but whatever." He chuckled.

Y/n nodded frantically.

Edward smiled, looking down at her lips. Brushing his thumb over them, he sighed. Y/n looked at his as well, wondering how they would feel against hers.

"May I kiss you?" He asked.

"Yes, please."

Leaning in, he tilted his head slightly. His lips met with y/n's in a soft embrace. His hand held the sides of her face gently as y/n's slithered around his neck. She sighed in delight as he pulled away, completely enamored with his entire being.

"You're so heavenly, y/n. My angel on earth." He cooed, dimples showing as he smiled.

"Oh, Edward..." Y/n giggled.

"Why don't you and I go watch a movie while we wait for the pizza, hm?" He asked.

"That sounds good. What movie?" Y/n asked, grabbing Edward's hand as he helped her up.

Y/n tossed the hello kitty plush back on the bed. Turning off the music that was playing, she followed her boyfriend out of the room. Edward thought for a moment, running a hand through his hair. As they walked, y/n caught whiff of his scent and nearly melted. She hated the smell of smoke, but when it came from Edward mixed with pine, leather, and green tea, she couldn't resist.

"Let's watch a horror movie, is that ok with you?"

Y/n nodded.

"I love horror movies, I had a huge crush on Stu Macher for a long time. Still kinda do..."

"Oh, you're one of those girls." He winked.

Y/n blushed, sticking her tongue out at him. The two of them sat down on the couch, the only light in the room coming from the fairy lights that y/n convinced Edward to hang on the wall behind the T.V. Y/n snuggled against his chest, feeling him sigh under her touch. He rested his hand on her thigh as he wrapped his around around her. Y/n watched as Edward put on Friday The 13th. As the movie played, y/n giggled, the feeling vibrating through Edward's chest.

"What's so funny, squirt?" He asked.

"Nothing, I just can't believe we're dating now. I'm just super happy!"

"I'm happy too, angel." He cooed, kissing the top of her head.

A knock on the door made them both look away from the T.V. Edward got up, letting y/n stay on the couch. He smiled as he saw her watching the movie from the corner of his eye as he opened the door. Flipping through his wallet, he pulled out 15 dollars, 10 dollars for the pizza and 5 as a tip. He always tipped people who worked in customer service. Edward was a really friendly person, but he looked like he could rip your throat out. So, the pizza delivery guy was quick to leave. He looked at y/n and faked a surprised face as he showed her the pizza, y/n giggled and got up from the couch. Edward placed the box on the kitchen table.

"Go ahead and start eating, I'm gonna get some water. Do you want some?" He asked.

"Oh, yes please!"

Edward poured two glasses of water, bringing them back to the table and placing them down. He looked at the T.V and chuckled, looking at y/n as she took a bite of pizza.

"Honestly, if I was a killer and I saw a naked woman in the woods, I'd run away. Do you know how awkward that would be? Like, 'Hey, I know you're basically naked but I kinda wanna kill you...so...you ok with that?' Like, how do you handle that?" He asked.

"Yeah, you're right! That's so weird. I don't care who you are, if you see a naked person in the woods, you're gonna be a little thrown off." She agreed.

The two of them continued to watch the movie, eating their pizza as they did so. Edward stole occasional glances at y/n, smiling every time she laughed or reacted to the movie. Every thing she did made his heart swell. Once he finished eating and y/n finished eating, Edward cleaned up their mess, even though y/n offered to do it. The movie came to an end as Edward finished cleaning up, and y/n gave him a kiss on the cheek. He repeated the gesture, saying good night before he walked to his room. Y/n grabbed his hand, frowning as she looked at him. He chuckled and tilted his head to the side.

"What's wrong, angel?"

"Where are you going?" She asked.

"To bed...?"

"Well, um, can you sleep with me tonight?" She mumbled sheepishly.

Edward smirked, nodding as he embraced her in a hug. Y/n smiled and pulled away, running to her room quickly. Humming to himself, Edward turned off all the lights that were still on, turning the T.V off as well. He did a double check of all the windows of the apartment and the front door, making sure they were closed and locked up.

"Eddie, come on! I moved my stuffed animals for you!" She called.

"I'm coming angel, just double checking things." He said, walking to y/n's room.

Stepping inside, he saw that y/n moved all of the stuffed animals on the bed to the corner of her room, all in a pile. However, she did leave a worn out rabbit on the bed, something from her childhood. Edward had to admit, her bed looked extremely cozy with all the fluffy blankets and plump pillows she had. Y/n went into her bathroom, brushing her teeth. Edward forgot about that, and quickly went to his bathroom to do the same. Once he came back, he saw that y/n laid flat across the bed, head hanging off the other side. She was stretching her back out in a comical way. Smirking to himself, Edward crouched down and attacked her thighs with kisses. Y/n shrieked and shot up instantly. Edward looked up at her from his position on the ground, watching her face turn red. The subtle muscles in his arms were flexed from how his arms were propped up. Y/n couldn't help but stare at them, squeezing her thighs together at the sight. Edward noticed and raised an eyebrow, finding the movement to be curious. Testing it, he pushed himself up with his hands, making sure to flex his arms as he did so, and lo and behold, y/n couldn't look away. Chuckling, Edward looked down at her thighs and hummed at how gently she rubbed them together.

"What are you doing there, hun?" He asked.

Y/n looked away, blushing. Firmly, yet softly, Edward moved her chin to force her to look at him. His eyes were soft as he looked into hers, seeing how nervous she was.

"You just...you make me feel hot. And I get..." She trailed.

Edward placed his hands on her thighs, looking up at her for approval. She nodded, breath hitching as he spread her legs slightly. His expression was understanding, knowing that y/n never did anything sexual with someone before. He wasn't sure if she had done anything to herself, she obviously knew about being turned on, so most likely she has.

"...wet?" He finished smoothly.

Y/n nodded, face beet red as she watched him massage her thighs. He planted a kiss on her inner thigh, feeling goosebumps rise on her skin. Edward could feel her shiver under his touch and it drove him wild. Standing up slowly, he looked down at her. Her little bambi eyes gazed up in his baggy eyes. He brought his hand down and stroked her hair.

"You make me so...hot and bothered, Eddie. I just...please..." She sighed desperately.

"Oh, you precious thing..." Edward cooed, reaching down and stroking her hair.

Y/n's eyes were wide and her mouth was slightly agape. He chuckled, trailing his hand away from her hair and down to her chin. Gently, he pulled at y/n's bottom lip with his thumb. Y/n squeezed her thighs together once again.

"Do you want me to fuck you?" He asked sweetly, a hint of desire lacing his tone.

Y/n whimpered, breathing heavily. She didn't even know how to respond to his question. It was so bold and blunt, something that he was able to be with ease. But y/n had a hard time with that, unable to get her thoughts out fully. She nodded, lips forming a pitiful pout. Edward bent back down to her level, grabbing her leg gently and lifting it up. Slowly, he trailed kisses up her shin, over her knee, and up to the bottom of her thigh. Y/n shivered at the feeling of his lips against her skin.

"Yeah? You want me to fuck you, angel? I need to hear you say it."

"Y-Yes, Eddie, please..." She whined.

"I'll give it to you angel, I promise. I'm going to show you what sex is, what it means, and I'll show you how much I love you through it."

Y/n breathed heavily, watching as he stood back up. Glancing out of y/ns room, he looked back at her.

"I need to get something, hun. I'll be right back." He said.

Y/n watched as he left the room, hearing him opening drawers in his own. She took this as an opportunity to catch her breath, even though she figured she'd lose it again within a few minutes. As Edward came back in the room, y/n saw that he had a condom in his hand.

"If I'm going to take your virginity, I'm going to be safe about it." He said.

Y/n smiled at him, appreciating how thoughtful and responsible he was being. She would be lying if she said she wasn't nervous. But, knowing that Edward would be the one popping her cherry, she felt comfortable. Safe. In the right hands.

"Are you sure you want to do this, angel? If it's something you don't want, then I won't do it. I don't need sex from you, I'm happy just being in love with you." He said.

"Y-Yes, Ed. I'm sure. I want this. I want to do this with you." She reassured.

Edward nodded as he placed the condom on the nightstand. In one fluid motion, he removed his tank top, his bare chest on display. Y/n shivered as he let his pants fall to the ground as well. The bulge in his boxers was evident, and it caused her eyes to widen. Sitting down next to her, he patted his lap. Y/n took the invitation gladly, straddling his lap. Edward brushed a piece of hair out of her face, looking deep into her eyes.

"You're so beautiful, you know that?"

Y/n blushed, about to say something before being cut off by Edward's lips. She melted into the kiss, hooking her arms around his neck. His hands trailed down from her shoulders to her lower back. Sliding his hand under her shirt, he rubbed circles into her skin.

"Have you ever been given oral, angel? It's ok if you haven't." He said.

Y/n shook her head.

"Do you want it?"

She nodded quickly, the idea of Edward's lips over her pussy making her whimper softly. He smiled, kissing her forehead before gently flipping her over on her back. Letting her legs hang over the edge of the bed, Edward closed her legs, hooking his thumbs under the fabric of her panties. Y/n sat up, holding his hands in place. Looking up at her, he cooed.

"Honey, I'm not going to judge you. You're perfect just the way you are."

Y/n nodded, releasing her grip on Edward's hands. Propping herself up on her elbows, he watched as Edward pulled her panties off, placing them beside her on the bed. With his palms, he spread open her legs, looking at her center. He let out a shaky breath, kissing her thighs.

"Just like I figured. Perfect." He said.

Leaning forward, Edward let his breath fan against her soaked core. She shivered, hips bucking simply from his breath. Slowly, he let his tongue roll out of his mouth, placing it against her. Y/n moaned and gripped the sheets. Letting her get used to the feeling, he massaged her hips. After a few moments, he licked a stripe in between her folds. When she bucked her hips again, he held her legs down firmly. Edward began to suck at her clit, tongue flicking over it occasionally. He was fluid with his movements, making sure it wasn't too overwhelming for her. Y/n reached down and tugged at Edward's hair, signaling for him to stop. Groaning at the sensation, he pulled away from her legs. His lips glistened with her arousal, wiping it off with his thumb before licking it off. Y/n was panting heavily, face flushed.

"You did so good, angel. How did that feel?" He asked, rubbing her thighs softly.

"S-So good..." She gasped.

"I'm glad, darling. Are you ready for more?" He asked.

Swallowing a lump in her throat, she nodded. Her thighs were coated in her slick and Edward's saliva. It served as a lubrication for Edward as he gently slid his finger between her folds, letting it coat his finger with the wetness.

"Ok, I'll be slow. You'll probably feel a small stretch, ok? I'm just going to use one finger." He explained.

"Ok, Eddie. I trust you."

Just like he said, he slowly pushed his pointer finger inside of her. Wanting her to slowly adjust, he only went down to his first knuckle. Y/n whimpered, the sensation a new feeling to her. Edward pushed in to his second knuckle, causing y/n to gasp. After a few more seconds, he slid his entire finger inside her. Y/n's back arched.

"How's that feel? Does it hurt, baby?" He checked.

"N-No, just pressure...so good...m-more?" She asked.

"You want more, are you sure?"

"Yes!" She cried.

Obliging, Edward slid his middle finger inside of her. Y/n yelped, panting as he slowly pumped in and out of her. The pace was slow enough that she could handle it but not too fast to where it hurt. It was perfect, almost like he knew her body inside and out. He smirked.

"Can I do something?" He asked.

Y/n nodded.

Edward stretched his fingers out in a scissoring motion, watching y/n squeal and arch her back. He reveled in the sight of her pleasure, slowly repeating the motion as he pumped inside of her. After she got used to it, he pulled out, laughing at her whines. She grabbed his hand, putting it back between her legs. He pulled it away, shaking his head.

"Angel, don't you want me? Or, are you still not ready for it?" He asked, lifting her shirt up slightly and placing a kiss on her tummy.

"N-No, I want it! 'M just nervous..." She mumbled.

"Aw, pretty girl. I told you I'd be gentle with you. I'm going to take good care of you, I promise you. You just need to trust me, angel."

Y/n nodded.

"Ok, but if I say stop you'll stop right?" She asked.

"Of course, sweetheart."

She smiled, feeling better about what was to come. Edward gently picked her up, placing her head down on her pillow. Reaching over to his side, he grabbed the condom off the nightstand. Y/n grabbed the hem of her shirt, looking up at Edward.

"Only if you want to, y/n." He said.

She nodded, slowly lifting it up over her head. Y/n tossed it to the side. Edward looked down at her as he straddled her lap. His eyes scanned her chest, leaning down and placing kisses over it.

"You're so beautiful, y/n. I mean that." He said, in awe of the woman below him.

Y/n leaned forward, grabbing onto the waistband of Edward's boxers. He smiled at her eagerness. Nodding, he let her pull them down. Her eyes widened as his dick popped out, causing her breath to hitch. She swallowed a lump in her throat. Leaning forward, she opened her mouth. Laughing, Edward pushed her back gently. Sliding his boxers off completely, he dropped them on the ground.

"No, not tonight y/n. Tonight is about you. You're all I care about tonight." He hummed.

She nodded, watching as he opened up the wrapper for the condom. Placing the trash on the night stand, Edward rolled the condom over his dick. He hissed at the contact, twitching in his hand. Y/n shuddered at the thought of it inside of her. But, it also exhilarated her.

"Are you ready, angel? If you've changed your mind, that's perfectly fine."

"Eddie, please, I need you..." She whined.

Shivering, he nodded and lined himself up with her. He propped himself up on his right arm, cupping y/n's face with his left hand. He counted down from 3, making sure y/n wasn't caught off guard. Groaning, he slowly slid inside of her, only pushing the tip inside. Y/n moaned, reaching up and hooking her fingers in his hair.

"Oh, fuck. Angel, you're so tight. A-Are you ok...?" He asked.

Y/n nodded, taking deep breaths.

"Y-Yeah, I'm ok. Keep going, j-just slow. I want it all..."

Edward nodded, doing as she said. Slowly, his dick pushed inside her, inch by inch. The feeling of her walls stretching around him made him roll his eyes back, burying his face into the crook of her neck. He whimpered in her ear, lifting y/n up slightly so he could wrap his arms around her. Y/n whined as she felt him twitch inside of her.

"L-Let me know when you want me to move, baby." He panted.

Edward stilled inside of her, kissing her neck delicately. His heart fluttered as he felt her pulse around him. He had had sex with people before, but it never felt meaningful. So, right now, in this moment, Edward felt absolutely enamored with the girl below him. His girlfriend. He wanted to show her how much he loved her, and he wanted it to be exactly what she wanted it to be. He wasn't the type to listen to anyone, but he would do anything y/n asked. He would do anything for his angel.

"E-Eddie...I'm ready, please." She panted.

Edward nodded, slowly pulling back and pushing inside of her. Each thrust was gentle and loving, not wanting to be too harsh with her. Y/n moaned underneath him, tightening around him as he kept a steady pace. Scratching at his back, y/n groaned.

"I want it faster, please!" She pleaded.

Edward knew he was going slow, but he was worried about hurting her. Moaning, he picked up his pace, hips slapping against hers. Y/n continued to moan underneath him, begging and crying for more. She wanted it faster and harder. Propping himself up on both of his hands, he hovered over her.

"Are you sure, angel? I don't want to hurt you."

"Eddie, I'm sure. Please, I wanna cum! Please! I need you so bad, Eddie please..." She whined, her voice desperate and pitiful.

He let out a guttural groan as he reared back and rutted up into her. Edward watched as her eyes rolled back, scratching at his shoulder blades. His mouth opened slightly as he maintained his harsh pace, whimpering at the sound of her moans and whines.

"Oh f-f-fuck!" Y/n cried out.

"Y-You like this? Does it f-feel good, angel?"

"Oh, fuck, yes d-daddy!"

Edward's eyes widened, a pathetic moan leaving his lips. That name sounded so sinful leaving her mouth. It was laced with a sweet honey that Edward couldn't get enough of. Moaning, he grabbed her hips and quickened his pace.

"I-I'm g-gonna...I think I'm..." She gasped.

"That's good, angel. I'll get you there. H-How do you wanna cum, baby?" He asked in between sloppy thrusts.

"M-Mouth..." Was all she said.

Edward pulled out of her, dropping to his knees off the bed. He pulled her close to him, cupping his mouth over her pussy. Lapping hungrily at her core, he buried his tongue inside of her. Y/n moaned, arching her back as she gripped at his hair. Pulling away, Edward put a finger inside of her, curling it inside of her.

"That's it, cum for me baby. You've got it..." He cooed.

As if on command, y/n let out a loud and erotic moan as her orgasm washed over her. She whimpered as Edward swallowed every bit of her climax, not wanting to waste a single drop. It smeared over his face as he buried his face between her thighs. He acted like he hadn't eaten food in weeks, and her arousal was the only sustenance he could get. It went down his throat like a sweet honey and he wanted more and more. But when there was no more, he pulled away, a string of saliva from her pussy attached to his bottom lip. It broke as he stood up and looked down at y/n. The sight of her naked and run through was enough to bring him to his own orgasm. He groaned, bending over and gripping onto the sheets for stability as he pumped his hot load into the condom. Panting, he let it ride out, a shiver running down his spine when it went away. Pulling the condom off, he tied it and tossed it in the waste bin near y/n's night stand. His glasses were fogged up and he was breathing heavily. Using his fingers, he cleared his glasses and leaned down, kissing the top of y/n's head.

"Ok, I'm gonna pick you up now. Is that ok?" He asked.

She nodded, holding out her arms so it was easier for him. Y/n wasn't the only one who was utterly exhausted from the events that played out. Grunting, Edward placed y/n on the counter top in her bathroom. Grabbing a wash cloth, he dampened it and gently wiped away her climax off his face. After that, he cleaned off the arousal and spit that was smeared over her thighs. Once that was done, he left washed his hands. While he did this, he yawned.

"Make sure you go to the bathroom, ok?"

"M'kay, Eddie."

"I'm gonna get you a new pair of underwear. I'll wait in bed for you, angel. I just want to make sure you're taken care of first." He said.

Leaving the bathroom, Edward closed the door behind him. Grabbing his boxers, he put them back on. Yawning, he didn't even bother with trying to find his tank top as he went to y/n's dresser. Opening different drawers, he looked until he found the one with y/n's underwear. He was surprised to see she had lacey panties, but he didn't pick one of those. Looking through, found one pair that looked like it would be the most comfortable. He grabbed y/'s shirt from off the floor and placed them on the bed. He groaned, realizing that he needed to brush his teeth.

"Hey angel, I'm going to brush my teeth again ok?"

"Wow, did I taste that bad?" She joked.

"Haha." He mumbled to himself as he went to his bedroom.

He was quick with brushing his teeth, wanting to get under the covers with y/n. Rinsing his mouth out of the toothpaste, he left his room and came back to y/n's. He was happy to see that she put on the clothes he laid out and got in bed. He closed the bedroom door behind him.

"Do you sleep with those lights on?" He asked, gesturing to the fairy lights that hung around her room.

She nodded. Edward smiled and turned off the main bedroom light, leaving the fairy lights on. Feeling cold, he was quick to get in bed behind y/n, drawing her close to his chest. She turned around, nuzzling into his chest.

"That was amazing, Edward." Y/n smiled.

"I'm really glad I could do that for you, y/n. I wanted it your first time to be special."

"Well, it was. You made me feel so comfortable. You talked me through the whole thing, I really appreciated that. I was super nervous."

"Of course I guided you through it, I wasn't going to leave you in the dark."

"You're so sweet..."

"By the way, no, you did not taste bad. Quite the opposite actually." He hummed.

"Yeah, you were acting like it was a four course meal." She giggled.

"Uh, cause it was. Speaking of, I didn't get any desert. Can I snack on a couple of your fingers? I'll leave you your pinkies." He joked, opening his mouth, about to put her fingers in his mouth.

"What?! No! You weirdo!" She laughed, snatching her hand away from him.

He scoffed, rolling on his back and staring at the ceiling. Crossing his arms over his chest, he mumbled to himself, pretending to be mad. Y/n rolled her eyes, resting her head on his bare chest. Humming, he stroked her hair.

"Fine. I won't eat your fingers. Yet..."

"Mmm, well give me a heads up when you're about to, ok? I'd like to say good bye to them." He said.

"Are you really that attached to your fingers?" He asked.

"Yeah, why wouldn't I? They let me grab things."

"True. That's a good point. Well, how about I just give a you a kiss. I think that'll be a good desert."

"Hmm, I guess that's ok." She giggled.

Edward rolled his eyes as he kissed her gently. Humming to himself, he held her close to him, rubbing her back. She sighed, warmth flooding her body as he embraced her. Both of their eyes grew heavy as they felt comfort in each other's presence.

"I love you, Eddie."

"I love you too, y/n."

#writers #fanfic writer #writers of tumblr #fanfic #the riddler #dc universe #paul dano #dano riddler #danonation #paul dano riddler #edward nashton #batman 2022

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