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charliemwrites · 28 days

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Part 4

Mister(s) Steal Your Girl is, somehow, now the official title. Congratulations you little shits (affectionate).

Content: Toxic Behavior, Brief Weight Shaming, Hurt/Comfort

You didn’t expect to see Johnny much after that one night - or possibly ever again. Kyle introduced you two, it was a lot of fun, but you figure that’ll be the end of it. Like introducing a new man to your girlfriends (not that you can really introduce Kyle to yours) you passed the vibe check and now Kyle will keep you and Johnny separate.

That’s how it’s been with Brandon’s friends. (Granted, you don’t really care for Brandon’s friends. And you figure it’s mutual based on the “uptight” comments they pretended to think you couldn’t hear.)

You’re starting to realize that Kyle is always going to subvert your expectations.

Johnny becomes a fixture - a welcome one. While you and Kyle still have your date nights and privacy, Johnny joins you two at least once a week for movies, drinks, dinner, or just silly adventures out and about.

You’re surprised that you don’t mind. Johnny is fantastic company, always respectful, funny, and friendly. Whenever the two of you are left alone, there’s no dead air. In fact, sometimes you could almost swear there’s electricity. Which is… well. It makes it hard to look him in the eye sometimes - and looking at Kyle even harder.

Guilt nips at your stomach until one of them distracts you with another story you’re 70% sure they shouldn’t tell you.

You and Johnny play a game with pub napkins, doodling something on one folded half, then passing it over for the other to scribble on the second half. The trick is not cheating and seeing the first half, then unfolding it to a complete (and usually silly) picture. Gaz always gets to name whatever monstrosity has been created.

You get a month of that good company. Then Kyle sighs at his phone one night.

“Shipping out again,” he explains when you glance at him.

“Will you be gone long?” you ask, shifting.

His brow furrows. “Not sure. They can’t tell us much over the phone.”

You hum in understanding. Still new to this whole military thing, the redacted danger of it all, but you think you’re getting the hang of it. At least, Kyle never seems annoyed when he can’t answer you, only apologetic.

“Is it gonna be the whole team?” you ask.

“Nah, just me and the cap.” He rubs his palm along your calf, a gesture that you suspect is self-soothing rather than for your benefit. “Probably not too dangerous, then.”

You make a noise of protest, nudging at his thigh with your foot. “Bad luck!”

“Sorry, sorry!” he chuckles, tapping his knuckles on the wooden end table. “You’re right.”

You crawl from your side of the couch to his, nuzzling up under his arm. He trails kisses along the side of your face as you snuggle in.

“I’ll miss you,” you mumble into his neck. Still a little embarrassed to be so needy, but you want him to feel appreciated.

“I’ll miss you too, chickadee. I’ll call if I can, yeah?”

You hum in agreement, squeezing an arm around his middle.

“While I’m gone, if you need anything - even some company - you ought to call Soap,” he adds.

The idea is tempting but… “I don’t want to bother him.”

“I promise you won’t,” he laughs. You don’t know what’s so funny, but hearing his voice rumble in his chest like this is always a treat.

“Maybe,” you allow.

“We’ll take it.” Before you can ask what that means, he loops an arm around your waist and scoops you into his lap. “Now then, about my send off.”

Your giggle turns into a moan as his mouth slants over yours.

Kyle’s only been gone three days. You’ve occupied yourself with cleaning up the flat you share with Brandon. Dust has been collecting since you’ve been out and about so much - and god knows Brandon hardly does more than load the dishwasher. Besides, a good bit of spring cleaning is a pleasant enough distraction, humming as you toss out old things to make more room for the new stuff you’ve been collecting.

“Good to see you getting back to normal,” Brandon says cheerfully. You glance up from the laundry you’re folding. He continues, “I was worried with how behind you got on things, but I knew you just needed some time. I told you this would be better for us both.”

You try not to let that sting. Even if things are better now, and continuing to get better, you can’t forget the pain that lingers from the beginning.

“Tell you what,” he adds, hands in his pockets. “When you finish cleaning up, I’ll take you out to the pub, yeah? Put on something pretty.”

You perk up, pleasantly surprised, though hesitant.

“We could leave earlier if you helped,” you point out, hoping for more than just dinner. “Maybe we could walk in the park or something before eating.”

He gives you a weak smile. One you recognize more than his real one by now. It’s almost apologetic, but not quite.

“I would but I’m bloody exhausted from this week, ya know? Big projects coming up at work.”

Your smile freezes. “And some late nights, I’m sure,” you try to joke.

He doesn’t laugh like you expect, but gives you an odd look. “Why would you say something like that?”

Baffled, you shrug. He shakes his head.

“I’m going to take a nap, come wake me up when you’re ready to go.”

You manage to finish the majority of your to-do list by 5. Shower, get dressed, do your hair and makeup with Brandon snoring in the background until 6. By then, he still hasn’t woken up from his nap, so you perch on the edge of the bed and gently nudge at him until he stirs.

“I’m ready to go, babe,” you murmur.

He scrunches up his face - you spare an affectionate thought for how cute it is. You’ve always found it cute.

“Five more minutes,” he grumbles.

You laugh a little. “It’s getting late, we should probably head out.”

He groans. “Five. Minutes.”

You huff in amusement and reach for his phone to set an alarm, but pause at all the notifications from dating apps crowding his screen. There are… a lot. And as you’re looking, a new message pops up, just labeled “blonde” with a peach emoji. Gross.

You set the alarm and slip away to the living room.

It takes him another half hour to finally rouse, shuffling into the living room with a groan.

“C’mon,” he yawns. “It’s going to be bloody crowded by now.”

You follow him quietly to the car, knowing he’s not chatty when he’s just woken up. Hunger only adds to his mood; you can practically see a cloud forming over his head. By the time he pulls up to the pub, he’s downright grumpy. He grumbles about shit parking, and the milling people outside. It looks busy.

“We could go somewhere else?” you suggest.

“This is fine,” he says.

He parks a block away and starts at a swift pace. You try to hold his hand, but halfway there, he pulls away to check his phone and doesn’t take it again.

Surprisingly, it’s only a twenty minute wait for a table - but Brandon sneers something like “of course it is” under his breath. You smile apologetically at the hostess and usher him away.

He doesn’t talk during the wait, at first. Until suddenly he blurts. “We wouldn’t have to wait if you’d woken me up.”

You blink at him. “I did. You asked for five more minutes.”

“Well, why didn’t you wake me up then?”

“I set an alarm?”

You don’t know why he’s so irritated, just that he seems tired and hungry.

“You know I don’t listen to alarms,” he complains, scowling at the sidewalk.

“Okay… I’ll wake you up next time,” you offer.

“Yeah, next time.”

Thankfully, the two of you are called a little early. The pub is indeed loud and crowded, and you’re definitely overdressed. But at least you know what you want - Brandon’s taken you here a million times before.

Wisely, you wait until he’s downed the texmex rolls before trying for conversation again. He hums along as you talk about work, about the books you’ve been reading, about the new movie you saw last week. You think it’s going pretty well, catching up on each other’s lives, when he interrupts you mid-sentence.

“Where was this?”

You frown. “At the grocery store…?”

“You’re still on that? Thought we moved on from that story.”

You don’t bother finishing it, just ask him about his work. It’s like pulling teeth. A lot of “good” and “busy” and “same as usual.” By the time your entree comes, you’ve given up, not sure if you want to cry or just walk away to see if he even notices. He keeps checking his phone. Your fingers twitch to text Kyle, but you don’t want to bother him while he’s working.

The end of dinner can’t come sooner. You decline dessert when the server asks.

“Probably for the better,” Brandon tells you lowly when they’re gone to get the check. “I think you’ve put on a bit of weight. You know how you get.”

You probably have - Kyle has a sweet tooth and practically begs you to split desserts with him. Johnny’s shares his food with you now too, grinning when you express approval for whatever high-protein dish he’s picked and shoving more at you.

As for “how you get”… Brandon’s mentioned in the past when you were heavier that you get mopey, aren’t much fun to be around.

(A small part of you wonders how that would even effect him at this point. He doesn’t spend enough time around you to notice if you’re mopey. Is that why tonight has been such a disaster…?)

You just collect your purse and lead the way out of the pub. It’s a quiet walk back to the car, even though Brandon seems to be in a better mood. He’s still texting, nearly bumps into an elderly couple along the way.

Back at the apartment, he runs his hand down your side, tugs at the lace hem of your shirt.

“Careful,” you chide.

He sucks his teeth and drops his hand. “I’m just trying to be playful.”

“I know, but I like this shirt.”

He rolls his eyes. “You’ve got three just like it.”

You don’t answer, know it’ll lead to more useless bickering. Just tug the stupid thing over your head, ready to go to bed.

“Hey now, that’s more like it,” he drawls, fingertips running down your spine.

You jump, surprised, but play it off that his hands are cold. He makes some crass comment about warming them up, reaching for your breasts, and your stomach churns.

“I-I think I ate something bad,” you lie, all but sprinting for the bathroom.

You close the door behind you - but don’t lock it. Just sit on the floor, the wall cold against your back, while you try to breathe through your spinning, conflicting thoughts.

He’s finally giving you attention, affection. Why aren’t you jumping at this opportunity to spend time with him? Not long ago, you would have been weeping with joy to have an iota of your normal relationship back. Maybe you really did eat something bad.

“Hey,” Brandon calls through the door, “I’m gonna stay somewhere else tonight.”

You stare at the blank white wood, aghast. “But I’m sick.”

“It’s not like I can do much, is there? Except listen to you be sick all night,” he reasons. “And who knows. Maybe it wasn’t something you ate. Maybe it’s contagious. I don’t want to spend the weekend ill.”

Your eyes burn. He didn’t even open the door to check. “Yeah,” you agree, voice robotic, “you’re right.”

Not even five minutes later, you hear the front door close. That almost, almost does you in. You manage to keep your lackluster dinner down, but not the tears.

You let yourself be pathetic for a few minutes, crying into your arms, folded over your knees. When you finally manage to get yourself together, it’s not Brandon you ache for. It’s Kyle. It’s not possible, you know. You just don’t want to be alone even though the nausea is dissipating.

Sighing, you remove your ruined makeup and wash your face, climb into one of Kyle’s jumpers. At least it still smells like him. It’s only as you’re trying to decide on a comfort show, huddled into a ball on the couch, that you remember his advice.

It takes all of fifteen seconds of debate before you scramble for your phone.

I know it’s late, but are you free, you text Johnny.

A response comes almost immediately.

Always for you, lass. You bite your lip on a tiny smile, already feeling better. Your phone buzzes again. What’s up?

Your thumbs hover over the keyboard for a moment as you figure out what to ask - then how to ask it.

Would you want to come to mine for movies? I don’t feel good…

He answers instantly again. Ice cream not-good or Theraflu not-good?

You sniffle when you remember that being sick was a dealbreaker for your night with Brandon.

Ice cream not-good, you reply.

Say no more, hen. Be there in fifteen. Pick a good one.

You watch TikTok’s until there’s a knock at the door. Upon answering, you’re swept up in a bear hug that lifts you off your socked feet.

“Johnny!” you cry, laughing a bit in shock.

“There she is!” he crows, swinging you around. “Been missin’ my best girl!”

You tell yourself the thrill in your stomach is just from him setting you down. (It’s a harder sell when it happens again seeing his wide smile and warm blue eyes.)

“You're ridiculous,” you huff, “I’m not your best girl.”

He arches his eyebrows. “Oh, yer keepin’ track, are ye?”

“C’mon, you must have a partner or something?” you prod as you usher him inside.

“Kyle must’ve told ye, hen, it’s hard in this line of work,” he explains, shrugging. “Tried before but… usually they just end up feeling neglected, ya ken.”

You hum. That’s why Kyle said you and he would work so well with the open relationship - that you’d still have someone at home while he was out. That you wouldn’t be alone if something happened to him.

“Anyway, this is no kinda talk for a cozy night in, now is it?” Johnny says, cutting your melancholy musing short. “Come look at what I brought ya!”

You only notice then the two grocery bags in one hand. He herds you to the couch and sets them on the coffee table for you to root through.

“My favorite!” You exclaim when you extract the tub of ice cream.

The grin Johnny shoots you is proud. “Kyle said so.”

“You two,” you sigh happily.

He’s also brought a squishy stuffed animal, crisps, popcorn, soda, candy, and a small collection of self-care items. You hold the face-masks up with a questioning smile.

“Heard somewhere that it’s good for ye, when yer feelin’ down.” You try not to giggle when the last word comes out sounding like “doon.” He continues, blissfully ignorant. “Hope that’s the right shite, there was a lot to choose from.”

You throw your arms around him, chest warm. “Thank you, this is perfect, Johnny.”

He circles his arm around your waist, holding you close. “Anytime, bonnie,” he murmurs into your hair.

You squeeze his shoulders as you pull away, waving one of the mask packets with a wicked little smile.

“Wanna try this ‘shite’ with me?” you tease.

You expect a resounding and masculine-heavy no. Instead, Johnny tilts his head consideringly for a moment, then shrugs.

“Eh, why the hell not?”

You wake up the next morning to a mess of candy wrappers, discarded moisturizers, and an empty carton of ice cream. And the smell of eggs. Cartoons are playing quietly on the telly. When you yawn and sit up, you’re greeted by a cheerful Johnny at the stove, wearing your pink apron.

“Mornin’, sunshine,” he calls.

You flush and smile back, glad that you called him. “Mornin’!”

#cod #my writing #fanfiction #reader fic #misters steal your girl #kyle gaz x reader #kyle gaz garrick #john soap mctavish x reader #john soap mactavish #Brandon the crash dummy

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steddieonbigboy · 2 months

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Sleepwalkin'

written for @steddiemicrofic april prompt ‘fool’ wc: 454 | rated: T | cw: implied sexual content | read on ao3

🛌🛌🛌

Eddie stirs at the sound of shuffling footsteps and gets jolted awake as Steve drops face-first onto the bed.

"Mhmph. Where've you been?"

"Sleepwalkin'."

"Do anything fun?"

"I got into bed with Wayne." He mumbles into the pillow.

"Wait. What?!" Eddie sits up with a crazed grin, suddenly wide awake, "Steve, sweetheart, that's fucking hilarious."

"Yeah, Wayne thought so too," He rolls onto his side to face Eddie," I, on the other hand, am slightly mortified."

"Baby, I'm sorry but that is actually so funny. What did he say when he woke you up?"

"That's the thing! He didn't! So I obviously woke him up when I, y'know crawled into his bed and cuddled up to him-"

"You cuddled him?! Stevie, be careful, that's the most action he's gotten in years, he's gonna fall in love with you!"

"Fuck off," He reaches across to slap Eddie's shoulder, "Anyway, he just left me to sleep! I woke up to him snoring with his arm around me, and I was so fucking confused."

"How long were you there? I woke up earlier and you were gone but I just thought you were in the bathroom or something. Didn’t realise you’d deserted me."

"Probably like half the fucking night. I went back to sleep after I’d woken up because his bed’s comfier than yours. I only came back in because he went to work and I got cold."

"Is a bed warmer all I am to you, Stevie?" Eddie pouted, "I thought you loved me for my wit and charm and dashingly good looks, not because I keep you toasty."

"I love you for many reasons, including how warm you run, but if you don't like it," Steve shrugged, "I guess I'll have to go to Wayne next time I'm cold. I'm sure he'll warm me up."

"Please don't leave me for my Uncle."

"Well, you better give me a good reason to stay then."

"Nobody can go down on you as well as I can."

"Oh really? Might have to let you prove that you’re the best then."

Eddie just smirks as he slides down the bed.

—

Wayne’s just gotten home from work when Eddie clears his throat and nudges Steve in the ribs.

"Stevie. Don’t you have something to say to Wayne?"

"Huh? Oh, right," Steve looks at Wayne as sincerely as he can possibly manage right now, "I’m so sorry, Wayne, but we were fools to think it’d work out between us. I’ll never forget our wonderful night together though."

"Well shucks, son, you’re breakin’ my dang heart here but I guess I just gotta move on," Wayne gives Steve a wink, "You know where to find me if you change ya mind."

#i worked very hard to squeeze in the joke prompt words in this lmao #steve harrington #eddie munson #wayne munson #uncle wayne #uncle wayne my beloved #steddie #steve x eddie #stranger things #steddiemicrofic #steddiemicroficapril #bigboywrites #mine

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lady-lostmind · 3 months

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I had the absolute pleasure of getting to write a fic based on this amazing art by @ahhrenata for @strangerthingsreversebigbang! Link to art post Thank you @oh-stars for betaing this! Read the fic on ao3 or under the cut!

Eddie rolls over with a groan. He feels awful. He can’t breath out of his nose, there’s so much pressure in his head he feels like it might explode and his throat feels like he swallowed a cup of razors. He lets out a truly pathetic whimper, the sound catching in his throat as it turns into a cough. He stretches his arm out, feeling around for Steve and is met with cold, empty sheets. He whines again and finally pries his eyes open.

“Stevie?”

He hears Steve pad down the hall and then he’s opening the door to their room, a soft smile on his face as he peers down at Eddie on the bed. “Hey, sleepyhead.”

Eddie sniffles loudly. “I don’t feel good.”

Steve sighs and leans against the door frame. “I told you not to go out in the cold with Dustin the other night. You didn’t even have a coat.”

Eddie groans again and flops over, reaching his hand out to Steve. “Come cuddle with me.”

Steve huffs out a laugh. “You’re whiny when you’re sick.”

But he pushes off the doorframe and crawls onto the bed, dropping down next to Eddie and letting him wrap his limbs around his body and press his face against Steve’s chest.

Eddie snuggles in and hums, ready to fall back asleep for forever, or until he can actually breathe again. Whichever comes first.

Steve’s hand lands on his forehead, pushing his bangs out of the way. “Baby, you’re hot.”

Eddie lets out a little chuckle, his voice low and raspy from the pain in his throat. “I’m flattered, sweetheart. But I don’t think I’m really up for anything sexy right now, Stevie.”

Steve swats his arm. “I wasn’t coming onto you, asshole. You have a fever.”

Steve pulls away, like he’s going to get back up and Eddie holds on tighter to him, another whine slipping out of his lips.

Steve rolls his eyes and presses a kiss to Eddie’s forehead. “I’ll be right back. I’m going to go get you some stuff.”

Eddie’s hand flops onto the bed as Steve gets up and disappears from the room. Eddie rolls back over, pulling the blankets up and burrowing under them to fall back asleep.

–

Eddie wakes up to Steve nudging him gently, holding out a little cup of red liquid. Eddie’s face scrunches up in disgust and he shakes his head with a groan, trying to hide under the covers again. “I hate that shit.”

Steve rolls his eyes and tugs the blanket back. “Eds, you gotta take this. It’ll bring your fever down. Come on.”

Eddie groans again, but pulls himself up to sit and takes the little shot of medicine with a grimace.

Steve chuckles beside him. “I’ve seen you drink jager straight from the bottle and you’re making that face over cherry cough medicine?”

Eddie shoots him a cocky grin. “Jager is good though. That shit tastes like pennies.”

Steve shakes his head, pulling the covers back up around Eddie’s chin. “There’s tissues and water next to you on the table. You want me to drag the TV in here?”

Eddie shakes his head, already settling back into the pillows and drifting off. He reaches out a hand to tug at Steve’s wrist.

Steve sighs, climbing under the blankets with him and pulling him close. “You’re gonna get me sick.”

Eddie grins and plants a wet kiss to the back of Steve’s hand before he falls asleep again.

–

The next time Eddie resurfaces it’s to Steve’s fingers trailing softly through his hair. He sniffs, whining when it makes the pressure in his head spike.

“Made you some soup, baby. You hungry?”

Eddie nods and forces himself to sit up, smiling at Steve when he hands him a bowl of chicken noodle. “Thank you, sweetheart.”

Steve leans over and presses a kiss to Eddie’s temple. “You sure you don’t want the TV in here? We could watch some movies.”

Eddie shrugs. “I’ll probably just fall asleep five minutes in. But you can bring it in if you’re bored.”

Steve shakes his head and grabs a book off his side table, wiggling it in the air. “I’m good.”

Eddie’s eyes lock on the book and his jaw drops open. “Are you finally reading The Lord of the Rings?”

Steve flashes him a big grin and nods. “They’re confusing though. How do you keep track of all these crazy names?”

Eddie chuckles. “You get used to it after a while.” He sets his empty bowl aside and lays back down, peering up at Steve with big, pleading eyes. “Will you read to me?”

Steve’s face scrunches up. “I’m not very good.”

Eddie scoots in closer, plopping his head onto Steve’s lap. “I just want to hear your voice.”

Steve’s hand finds its way back into Eddie’s curls again. “Do you want me to start over?”

Eddie shakes his head. “I’ve read them like ten times. You can start where you left off.”

Steve nods and opens the book, clearing his throat. “‘I wish it need not have happened in my time,’ said Frodo.”

Eddie lets the familiar words wash over him. Steve’s voice making him feel safe and warm, the fingers in his hair soothing him to sleep.

–

Eddie wakes up again, his throat burning and raw. He’s alone in the bed again and it’s dark. The blankets tucked in tight around him, making him over heated, his hair plastered to his forehead. He sits up, reaching for a tissue as a harsh cough racks his body. He groans, wincing as he wipes his mouth.

Eddie hates being sick. And yeah. He knows nobody likes being sick. Obviously. But he can’t stand it. It makes him feel trapped in his own body. Trapped in his bed. He doesn’t like to sit still for so long. To feel like he can’t do anything.

The door creaks open, a sliver of light peeking through before it disappears again, Steve’s body blocking it out as he leans in, a sad little smile on his face. “You okay, baby? Heard you coughing.”

Eddie lets out a pathetic whine, falling against the pillows again, somehow still exhausted even though he slept through most of the day already. “No.”

Steve pushes the door open the rest of the way, comes up to him and puts his hand on his forehead before making a little tsk noise, and brushing his hair out of his face. “I’m going to get you another dose of medicine.”

Eddie groans, grabbing Steve’s wrist and shaking his head.

Steve chuckles, bending down to press a kiss to Eddie’s temple. “What if I bring you a popsicle to chase it with? Make your throat feel a little better.”

Eddie’s eyes flick up to Steve’s, his eyebrows shooting up. “Not sure your popsicle is going to help my throat much but–”

Steve rolls his eyes with a smile, tugging his arm back and shaking his head. “Would you stop? You’re awful.” He heads back to the door, turning back with his hands on his hips. “Orange or cherry?”

Eddie whines. “No grape?”

Steve chuckles. “You and Dustin ate all the grape, baby.”

Eddie huffs out a breath. “Orange then.”

Eddie grins as Steve leaves the room. He really hates being sick. But he doesn’t mind this whole Steve-taking-care-of-him thing. That part’s pretty nice. He can’t really remember the last time someone did this for him. Thinks it must have been his mom, when he was still little. Remembers curling up with her on the couch, her humming softly as he fell asleep.

He doesn’t have a lot of good memories with her. Mostly screaming matches with his dad, and her disappearing for weeks at a time. But there were a few times when things were good. When he felt loved. When he really felt like he understood what it was like to be wanted. And then he’d gone to live with Wayne. And he did his best. And Eddie knows he loves him. Knows he would do anything for him. But he’s a grumpy old man who never thought he’d be raising a kid. His version of taking care of Eddie when he was sick was buying some soup and leaving it on the counter for Eddie to make while he was at work. And that was fine. Eddie is grateful for everything Wayne has done for him. It just wasn’t exactly a lovey household. Not that it wasn’t full of love. They just…didn’t really show it. But he feels the love in everything Steve does. Sees it in the way Steve’s eyes light up when they look at him. In the way his hands always linger. No matter where they touch. Like he never wants to be more than a breath away from him. Like he wants nothing more than to bring him a stupid orange popsicle when his throat hurts to make him feel better.

Eddie smirks as Steve comes back into the room, cough medicine in one hand, popsicle in the other.

–

Eddie feels a little better when he wakes up the next morning. Late morning. The room bright with the sun peeking in through the blinds. He’s still sick. Still can’t really breathe normally. His throat is still protesting every time he tries to swallow. But he feels a little less dead. And he didn’t wake up drenched in sweat this time so, hopefully that means his fever is gone. Thanks to Steve’s stupid medicine. Not that he’d ever admit that to him.

Steve comes in with a plate piled high with toast, and a mug of tea that Eddie is sure has way too much honey in it, for his throat.

Eddie takes the offered breakfast with a sleepy smile. “Thank you, sweetheart.”

Steve presses a kiss to Eddie’s forehead. “You’re welcome, baby. You feeling better?”

Eddie shrugs, stuffing half a piece of toast in his mouth. Steve climbs onto the bed with him, grabbing Eddie’s book from the table on his side of the bed, settling back against the pillows.

Eddie perks up, shifting so he can watch the way Steve’s mouth wraps around the words Eddie knows by heart. They’re some of his favorite configurations of words in the world, and Steve somehow makes him love them even more. He loves the slight hesitancy he has as he stumbles over the names, the pauses he adds in strange spots when he’s clearly trying to piece parts of the story together. He can tell he’s really trying to get it. Trying to understand why Eddie loves this so much. Trying to understand Eddie more. Which he’s pretty sure no one else has done before.

Everyone else just takes him at face value. The loud, over the top, obnoxious behavior, his weird obsessions and interests. People either look at him and want nothing to do with him, or they look at him in awe, like he’s something shiny, something to distract them from whatever bullshit is going on in their own lives. But he’s never had someone look at him like he’s something to be treasured. To dive into and see all the sides of. Until Steve.

Steve, who he knows hates half of the stuff Eddie is into but still asks questions. Who knows Eddie’s favorite songs and books and movies. Who knows he prefers grape popsicles. Who looks at him in that awestruck way even when he’s quiet. When he’s just existing in their space, not putting on a front or a show. Steve still sees him, even then.

Eddie leans forward and presses his lips to Steve’s, cutting him off mid sentence.

Steve huffs out a laugh against Eddie’s lips before pushing him back. “Is my reading that bad?”

Eddie shakes his head and takes another bite of toast, getting crumbs all over the bed as he scooches closer to Steve who lifts his arm to tuck Eddie into his side.

–

By day four Eddie is still feeling pretty bad, and worn out, but also bored. He still doesn’t have the energy to leave their bed much but he also can’t stand just laying around anymore.

He shuffles his way out to the living room, ignoring Steve’s squawk of protest as he spots him from where he’s doing dishes in the kitchen. Eddie makes it halfway to the coffee table before Steve is there, a hand towel slung over his shoulder as he tries to push Eddie back down the hall.

“What are you doing? Go back to bed.”

Eddie groans and gestures to his stack of notebooks on the table. “I’m bored, Steve. I want to work on my campaign.”

Steve nudges him back again, a crease forming between his brows. “I’ll bring them to you. Go lay down.”

Eddie lets out an annoyed whine but turns and heads back down the hall, collapsing on the bed where he immediately lets out a sigh of relief, the pressure that was building in his head from being vertical backs off as soon as he hits the pillows. Because Steve was right, of course. He should have just asked him to grab his stuff for him.

Steve comes in a few minutes later with all of Eddie’s notebooks and campaign books piled high in his arms. He dumps them on the bed and disappears again, coming back with a stack of Eddie’s tapes and his walkman, adding them to the mess on the bed and perching on the edge.

Eddie grins at him. “You’re the best, you know that?”

Steve shrugs, a little blush flashing on his cheeks. He reaches out and squeezes Eddie’s knee. “Just know you like to listen to music while you work. I’ll bring you some dinner in a little bit, okay?”

Eddie watches as he gets up to go, smirk firmly in place as he pulls his notebooks closer to him and flips the top one open, trying to jump back into the story he was forming.

–

Eddie stares down at his notebook, sniffing loudly and tossing a crumpled up tissue onto the floor next to the bed. He taps his pen on the page, trying to will the scene to write itself. A cough works its way up the back of his throat and sticks there, making him hack over and over until he’s pulling in a wheezing breath and falling back against the pillows.

“Fuck me.” He groans out, shoving his notebook away with a huff. He hates being sick. Can’t even manage to focus on his campaign for more than fifteen minutes before he’s coughing and exhausted and–

Steve pushes the door open with his hip, a steaming bowl of soup in his hands and a bright smile that reaches his eyes on his face.

Eddie sighs, pulling himself up to sit against the headboard and lets Steve fuss over pillow placements as he hands over the soup. He stares up at Steve, his chest full of adoration for this wonderful man who works himself into a tizzy because Eddie didn’t make sure he was properly supported by his pillows. Because how is his gorgeous man even real? How did Eddie get so lucky?

Eddie sets his soup on the side table as Steve leans over him, trying to manhandle Eddie into a position he deems acceptable and Eddie grabs his face, pulling him into a soft kiss, smiling against Steve’s mouth when he feels him melt a little into the touch.

Steve pulls back with a chuckle, pushing against Eddie’s shoulder. “It’s like you’re trying to get me sick, Eds.” Eddie lets out a laugh and sniffs, trying not to be an oozing, gross mess with Steve so up close and personal. “Sorry. I just can’t help myself when you’re being so sweet.”

Steve’s face blooms red and he ducks his head with a little shake before standing and grabbing Eddie’s soup off the table again, pushing it back into Eddie’s hands. “Eat your soup, baby.”

Eddie gives him a little two finger salute and nods, dimple popping on his check. “Yes, sir.”

Steve rolls his eyes as Eddie takes a big spoonful, making an obnoxiously loud slurp just to see the way Steve’s face scrunches in disgust.

–

Eddie wakes up in the middle of the night, coughing and wheezing, trying to catch his breath and be quiet so he doesn’t wake up–

Steve’s hand lands on his back, rubbing gently.

Eddie groans, looking guiltily over at Steve. “Sorry I woke–” His voice catches on another cough, sending him into another fit.

Steve sits up, hand still on Eddie’s back, the other coming up to sweep the hair away from his face. “It’s okay, baby. Just breathe.”

Eddie nods, sucking in a deep breath and trying to ignore the tickle in the back of his throat threatening another cough. Steve gets up and heads out of the room, coming back with a glass of water that he hands to Eddie before sliding back into bed, his hand finding its way back to its spot on Eddie’s back. Eddie takes a couple of small sips before setting the glass aside and laying back down, Steve scooches in close, pressing their foreheads together, one hand still on Eddie’s back, the other working its way to tangle in his hair.

Eddie hums reaching up to cup Steve’s face, feeling content as his eyes slip closed.

–

The next morning Eddie wakes up feeling much better. He’s still a little stuffy, but his throat doesn’t hurt anymore and his head feels a little clearer. Like the sick haze is starting to dissipate. He stretches, letting out a satisfied groan and slips up to jump in the shower.

The hot water does wonders for him and by the time he steps out of the bathroom, rubbing his drenched hair with a towel, he feels almost human again.

He glances over at Steve, still fast asleep in the bed. Eddie’s brow scrunches together and he looks at the clock. 11:15am.

Huh. Steve never sleeps in this late. He gets up obnoxiously early to work out before he gets moving for the day. Eddie climbs back into the bed and presses soft kisses along Steve’s jaw, smiling when his sleepy eyes peek open at him.

“You slept in.” Eddie traces his fingers along Steve’s arm.

Steve lets out a little whimper, pressing his face into the pillows.

Eddie pushes some hair out of Steve’s face, his fingers grazing his forehead which is blazing.

Eddie curses under his breath, planting his hand more firmly on Steve’s skin. “Oh no, sweetheart.”

Steve peers up at him with big, sad puppy eyes, his voice strained and nasally. “I’m sick, Eds.”

#steddie #eddie munson #steve harrington #stranger things #steddie fanfic #stranger things reverse big bang #strbb #steddie fluff #ahhrenata #lady lostmind

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lithium80writer · 8 months

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The Pact: Eddie Munson one shot

⚠️explicit sexual content. 18+. Minors DNI ⚠️

Summary: As children, you and Eddie made a pact to never cross that line. But as the two of you have grown it has become almost impossible to keep. You decide to make a new pact instead. ;)

*******

“Eddie!” you knock loudly on the door of his trailer. His van is here so he’s gotta be home.

“Eds?!” you try again, banging on the door even louder. You shuffle your feet, your converse kicking up dust from the porch as you wait impatiently for any sign of Eddie.

He’s probably still sleeping. The boy doesn’t wake up earlier than noon, especially on a Saturday.

You close the screen door and make your way around the trailer to his bedroom window. It’s cracked slightly and the smell of weed immediately hits your nose, making you smile. He’s up.

You push up on the old window, listening to the squeak as it struggles to move. “Eddie!” you shout through the crack. Again, no response.

You roll your eyes as you use all your strength to lift the window enough to crawl through. You climb in head first and tumble onto his floor. As you sit up, your eyes adjust to the dim room. You see him lying on his back on the floor, headphones on his ears, his fingers tapping away as he listens to his music.

No shirt, his tattoos on full display. Hair pulled back into a messy bun, loose curls sticking out everywhere. A pair of dark green flannel pajama pants hanging low on his waist.

Fuck, he looks good.

You watch as he brings his fingers to his lips, inhaling on a joint, releasing a cloud of smoke into the air. You tiptoe across the floor, hearing the tune of ‘Dirty Women’ by Black Sabbath coming from the headset as you lean over him.

His already round eyes widen even more as he notices you. He sits up quickly, his head slamming into yours, making you stumble to the ground.

“Shit! Y/n, are you okay?” he shouts over the music still blasting in his ears. You sit up on your knees, reaching out with one hand removing his headphones, leaving them dangling around his neck as you rub your forehead with your other.

“Easy Tiger.” you giggle and he grins a crooked smile at you. His eyes are glossed over and slightly red from his activities.

“Sorry, didn't hear you comin’.” he explains, pointing towards the earphones, his hooded eyes glinting playfully.

“Yeah, I got that.” you shove his shoulder lightly and he scoots a little closer to you.

“Thought you were coming by tonight?” he raises an eyebrow as he stands up, holding his hand out to you. You grab his hand and he pulls you from the ground.

“My shift got canceled and I was bored.” you shrug, reaching out for the joint in his hand.

“I have an idea.” Eddie says suddenly, his brown eyes sparkling. You inhale deeply on the joint and wait for him to continue. He stands there silently, eyes zoning in on your chest.

“Eddie!” you smack him upside the head bringing him out of his daze and he shakes his wild hair.

“Sorry.. I’m high.” he shrugs with a little wiggle of his brows.

“Your idea?” you remind him gently.

“Right.. the clubhouse. Let’s hotbox.” A slick smile spreads on his pretty lips. Every time you’re together, you have to fight the urge to kiss him. To touch him. To beg him to touch you.

You had both made a pact. An oath. You were best friends. You couldn’t cross that line. But now.. every year got harder and harder to keep it.

I wonder if he feels the same.

“Y/n?”

“Mhmm.. yeah. Let’s go.” you grin at him and his smile widens. He walks over to his nightstand swiping up his little metal lunchbox.

You make your way outside, following the familiar trail into the woods behind the trailer park. You used to come here all the time together. Staying up, eating bags of candy and telling scary stories until Wayne would come and drag you both out.

You reach the rickety ladder leading high into the trees and glance over at Eddie, a nervous look on your face.

“When’s the last time you’ve been up here? It looks… well, it looks like we’re gonna die if we attempt this.”

“Oh, we’re fine. Come on. You first.” he encourages, his hand landing on your waist. The small touch sends tingles down your spine.

“Why do I have to go first?” you groan, grabbing hold of the wooden plank.

“That way I can catch you if you fall.” he explains, keeping his hand resting gently on your side.

You take a deep breath and begin your climb. “Shit!” you squeal as your foot slips on the third step and you fall into Eddie, his free hand lands on your ass, holding you up.

“Oops.” you laugh, turning to peek at Eddie. His hand remains in place making you blush. “Eds?” you nod towards his hand and he just smiles lazily.

“Total accident. Swear.” he cheeses. Your heart starts to pound in your chest. He’s flirting. Shit no… He always flirts. It’s just friendly banter. Normal for the two of you. But is that all it is? Fuck.

You continue up the ladder, Eddie following close behind until you reach the top. You push the Spider-Man sheet to the side and crawl into the small treehouse. Everything looks about the same. A few new additions since the last time you’ve been here.

An ashtray sits in the corner, a stack of playboy and hustler magazines sprawled out, some empty beer bottles. “Eddie Munson..” you giggle, shaking your head in mock disappointment.

Eddie plops on the dusty floor reaching out and snagging one of the magazines. “What? A man has needs.”

“Ew.” you joke, grabbing his lunchbox, plopping a pre rolled joint between your lips.

“What? You don’t uh, take care of yourself?”

The question catches you off guard. But even more than that, his tone. It was much deeper than before. You hope your cheeks aren’t as red as they feel as you meet his gaze. You light the joint, inhaling deeply, holding the smoke in your lungs a moment before exhaling.

“No, I do.” you whisper, taking another toke. Eddie watches you curiously, scooting a little closer to you in the already cramped space.

“You gonna share?” he winks at you making your heart flutter. He’s so close. All I want is to taste him. To finally give in.

“Hey, you okay?” Eddie nudges you playfully with his foot, shaking you from your thoughts. You nod sitting up on your knees in between his sprawled legs. You bring the joint to his lips and his eyes lock on yours as he inhales slowly.

You inch closer, the slight buzz from the weed making you more confident.

“Are you about to kiss me?” Eddie blurts making you pause.

“What? No.” you snort shoving his chest hard, making him fall back to the dirty floor. He coughs, the smoke filling his lungs coming out in small spurts as you move back to your spot against the wall, feeling a wild mix of emotions.

He scrambles to get back up, immediately coming to sit in front of you again. “I- uh- I wasn’t gonna stop you.. if you were going to… ya know?” he mumbles under his breath.

You meet his big brown eyes, the same eyes you’ve looked into for years and years. There was no mistaking it. They were darker. Full of a hunger. A hunger for you.

Shit.. say something. Anything. Your mind goes blank. Every part of you wanting to just kiss him. The other part of you worried about your friendship. The whole reason the two of you made the pact.

“The pact..” you breathe.

Eddie nods slowly, keeping his dark eyes on you. Neither of you speak for a moment, the silence making you wonder if he was upset with your answer. Does he really want to kiss me? Does he want more? Eddie speaks up first, leaning back slightly, twisting one of his rings on his finger.

“Who do you think about when you touch yourself, y/n?” he burns lowly, his eyes searching your face carefully.

“W-What?” you choke out.

“Who do you think about?” he asks again, his eyes remain locked on yours, his tone firm.

You. Always you.

You shrug instead, keeping your thoughts to yourself.

Eddie nods, taking another long puff off the joint before handing it your way. The small area was already cloudy with smoke as you both continue to add to the haze.

“It’s not like we made a blood oath or something.” Eddie continues after a few minutes. Both of you now feeling the effects of the high.

“We literally made a blood oath.” you argue, a smile on your lips as you think back to the two of you pricking your fingers with a thumb tack.

“We were thirteen.” Eddie pushes back, moving over so he’s sitting right next to you. You can feel his body warmth radiating against your side. When you turn his face is only inches from yours.

“Where is this coming from?” you whisper, your eyes falling to his lips continuously no matter how hard you tried to avoid it.

“I just.. fuck, I don’t know. Just, look at you.” Eddie breathes out, his words making your entire body warm.

“Who do you think about?” you ask suddenly.

“I don’t know what you mean.” he grins widely, forcing you to ask him directly.

“When you touch yourself.. do you just think about those girls in the magazine?”

“Sometimes.. sometimes I think of someone else.” he hints as his hand gradually makes its way to your thigh.

“Me?” you swallow hard, barely pushing the word out.

“Do you think about me?” he challenges, his hand resting heavily on your upper thigh.

“Yes.” you admit. You knew it wasn’t the drugs. You’ve always wanted Eddie. But the buzz was allowing you to finally speak your truth.

You can tell he’s happy with your answer, his face lighting up. His brown eyes gleaming.

“Show me.”

“I don’t under-”

“Show me what you do when you think about me.” he cuts you off swiftly.

Holy shit. Your mind fills with wild thoughts as you take what he said into consideration. You can feel yourself throbbing at the thought. Touching yourself in front of him. Eddie’s eyes watching you as you bring yourself to your peak. Would he touch himself too?

Before you can change your mind you guide your hands into your shorts, listening as Eddie inhales sharply.

“Fuck..” he exhales, watching carefully as your hand meets your warmth under the material of your shorts. You close your eyes, worried that if you see him you might overthink everything. Right now it just felt good. So good.. and you know he’s watching.

“I close my eyes..” you start, slowly rubbing circles around your clit. Eddie hums in response, waiting for you to keep going.

“And I see your face. I- I think about how your lips would feel.. your tongue.. the sounds you would make…” you moan as you slip two fingers inside, feeling your arousal.

“What else?” Eddie rasps, his lips suddenly against your ear, his voice makes you speed up your fingers.

“I think about how you would feel inside me.. if you would be rough.. if you would.. ohh.. if you would make me scream..”

“I promise I could make you scream, y/n..” Eddie burns. You feel his fingers on your chin, turning you to face him. Your eyes drift open and Eddie presses his forehead against yours as you work your fingers in and out of your soaked pussy. Your lips so close that they brush his when you speak again.

“I think about your fingers a lot… your rings.. I pretend my hands are yours..” you whimper, feeling yourself on the edge but not quite there. You don’t want your fingers. You want his.

You see the same want all over his face as you bring yourself closer and closer.

“Eddie..” You let out a little gasp, his lips part with yours as his breathing speeds up.

“You gonna cum, sweetheart?” he encourages you, his husky tone something you’ve only imagined in your dreams.

“I want you.. I want you to make me cum..” you whine desperately, only seconds away from your orgasm.

“Yeah?” he pants breathlessly.

“Please..” you beg. He wastes no time reaching into your shorts, you remove your fingers just in time for his to replace them. His slender fingers immediately reach exactly where you need them to, curling with precision, stroking across your g spot making you cum instantly.

“Yes! Y-yes!” you cry, your muscles pulsing around his fingers, Eddie watches in awe as you fall apart beneath his hand.

“Holy fuck..” Eddie groans deeply, slowly working you through your orgasm. Your cum covering his hand, the filthy sounds of your slick making his cock rock hard.

You grab him, slamming your lips into his pulling a moan from him instantly. He leans in, his body pressing you down to the floor as you tangle your hands in his hair.

Fuck.

He tastes like weed and Camel Blues as his tongue greets yours hungrily. You both kiss sloppily, soaking up this moment. After all these years, both of you finally getting what you want.

Clothes are torn off. No more hesitation as you both paw at each other, kissing and biting, the eagerness apparent from both of you. Moans and the sound of messy kisses fill the room.

“Fuck me..” you plead with him as your bodies grind together, skin on skin, so close together.

“We need a new pact..” he pants breathlessly, lining himself up.

“Mhmm.” you moan, feeling his tip start to stretch you out.

“The new pact is that You’re mine.” he burns as he thrusts himself in, entering you fully, a filthy cry raining from your lips.

“I’m yours.” you moan, your fingernails digging into his back as he begins to pump in and out of you.

“We have to seal it, sweetheart.” he mumbles drunkenly, picking up his pace. His size unlike anything you’ve had before, your legs already shaking slightly, a tinge of pain mixed with the beautiful pleasure.

“What do you- oh!” you gasp as his teeth sink into your bottom lip just hard enough to break the skin. You feel the trickle of warm liquid dribble down your chin.

“Shit..” you breathe out before returning the favor, taking Eddie’s plump lip between your teeth and tugging roughly making him growl as he slams his cock into you.

“Goddamn, baby.” he groans, kissing your lips, gliding his tongue inside. A metallic taste fills your mouth as your tongues swirl together wildly, your blood mixing together in your kiss.

“Call me baby again.” you whimper, rolling your hips, grinding on his big cock. He feels so fucking good.

Eddie chuckles bringing his lips to your ear as he fucks you powerfully. His cock glides in and out of your slickness, the sounds loud in the quiet of the woods.

“You like being my baby?” he murmurs in your ear.

“Yes!”

“You feel so fucking good.. so fucking good.” he praises, entering you deeply with every snap of his hips. Your head falls to the wooden floor as your back begins to arch.

“There we go, sweetheart..” Eddie hums approvingly as your thighs begin to tremble.

He keeps himself buried deep, rolling into you, his thick cock filling you to the brim. He thrusts into you precisely, finding your sweet spot making your toes curl.

“Eddie! R-right there!” you whimper, the pleasure of someone fucking you right for the first time was unlike anything you’d felt before. You didn’t know sex could feel this good. “Right there, Eds.” you plead again, so afraid he was going to move, or stop but he didn’t. He kept going at the perfect tempo, his long cock pressing into your soft spot driving you insane.

“Gonna take care of you, sweetheart.. I got you.” Eddie reassures, keeping his pace, in and out, in and out. His lips lock onto your neck sucking harshly. You grip the back of his head, holding him to you, the feeling of his lips sucking your skin felt delicious. His fingers meet your clit, quickly rubbing circles on the sensitive nub, making your eyes roll.

“Please don’t stop… I think.. I think I’m gonna..”

“Cum for me, y/n.” Eddie demands in your ear sending you over the edge. You pull his hair roughly as your body jolts upward, your pussy clenching around him, spasm after spasm as you flood his cock.

“E-Eddie! Ohh my god.. f-fuck!” you practically scream, Eddie loving every second of you writhing beneath him. Watching as you make a mess of his cock. You can feel your cum coating your thighs as he continues to pound into you.

His hands tangle in your hair as his lips meet yours feverishly. Your entire body is overwhelmed as you cling to him, it’s almost too much but you don’t want it to end. He lifts your leg onto his shoulder, the new angle making you gasp.

“You’re so fucking hot..” Eddie moans, the sounds coming from him are everything you imagined they’d be. Even better.

“We’re gonna cum together.” Eddie orders as he leans down, taking your leg with him, his hard cock somehow reaching deeper.

“Together..” you whimper, feeling him stretch you out again and again. He speeds up, slamming into you wildly, your legs shake as you grasp for him, wanting him to be as close as possible. He leans down even more, you feel the strain of your leg muscles as he bends you in ways unknown to you before. He sinks his teeth into your neck making your eyes roll to the back of your head as your nails claw at his back, sending red streaks across his tattoos.

“Gonna cum… wanna cum inside you..” he mumbles, his hips moving at an insane pace.

“Cum inside me, baby.” you moan, completely losing all sense of anything but him as he fucks you senseless. A few more hard thrusts and you feel his cock twitch, his warm cum spilling into you as he moans your name. You feel yourself come undone once again, your cum mixing with his.

“Fucking Christ..” he laughs breathlessly as he collapses on top of you. Both of you lay there silently, your chests rising and falling rapidly as you come down from your high. You run your fingers through his curls as he rests his head on your chest.

After a few minutes you hear the crunching of leaves below you causing you both to sit up suddenly.

“Edward!” Wayne’s voice calls from below.

“Shit.”

“Come down here and eat your damn dinner.. 20 years old and still playing in a damn treehouse.” Wayne mumbles as you hear his footsteps heading back through the woods.

You both look at each other and burst out laughing.

“Dinner, m’lady?” Eddie smirks, rounding up your clothes.

“Dinner sounds perfect.” you smile at him, feeling complete.

Masterlist 🖤

2K notes · View notes

fushic0re · 5 months

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❝𝐀 𝐇𝐔𝐒𝐁𝐀𝐍𝐃❜𝐒 𝐆𝐔𝐈𝐃𝐄 𝐓𝐎 𝐃𝐑𝐔𝐍𝐊𝐄𝐍 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐅𝐄𝐒𝐒𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒❞

⊹ ࣪ ˖ 𝗦𝗔𝗧𝗢𝗥𝗨 𝗚𝗢𝗝𝗢, 𝗦𝗨𝗚𝗨𝗥𝗨 𝗚𝗘𝗧𝗢, 𝗞𝗘𝗡𝗧𝗢 𝗡𝗔𝗡𝗔𝗠𝗜, 𝗧𝗢𝗝𝗜 𝗙𝗨𝗦𝗛𝗜𝗚𝗨𝗥𝗢, 𝗔𝗢𝗜 𝗧𝗢𝗗𝗢, 𝗦𝗛𝗜𝗨 𝗞𝗢𝗡𝗚

𝐃𝐚𝐲 𝟏𝟎 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝑹𝒊𝒌𝒂𝒏𝒆 𝑾𝒐𝒏𝒅𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝑨𝒅𝒗𝒆𝒏𝒕 𝑪𝒂𝒍𝒆𝒏𝒅𝒂𝒓 ⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒 ─ 18+ ONLY; MINORS DNI. alcohol consumptions. drunken antics. smut; penetrative sex, sex in a public space. slightly cracky.

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 ─ in true hallmark movie fashion, the holiday party ends with your crush getting so drunk that he spills professions of love.

꒰ ͜͡➸ 𝐈𝐅 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐄𝐍𝐉𝐎𝐘𝐄𝐃 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐘, 𝐏𝐋𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐄 𝐆𝐈𝐕𝐄 𝐈𝐓 𝐀 𝐑𝐄𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐆! 𝐑𝐄𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐆𝐒 𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝐖𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒❜ 𝐁𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃 & 𝐁𝐔𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑! ♡

SATORU GOJO

Whiney. Clingy. Horny.

First of all, we know this man is a lightweight. Don’t even be surprised that he’s easily swayed by the influence of alcohol.

At some point (for his own sanity of course) Nanami tried to curb him whenever he wanted another drink…but he gave up.

So now you’re stuck with a very drunk Satoru Gojo

One minute he’s being his usual irritating self, the next he’s practically slurring as he blurts out really, really stupid shit.

You’re desperately trying to reel him in because your students are literally in the same room as you and do not need to see their teacher drunk or hear the inappropriate things he’s saying.

But Satoru Gojo cannot be stopped.

He also cannot for the life of him contain any of the feelings he has for you in his body. So despite the fact that he would probably benefit more from throwing up all the sake bombs he’s had, he throws up drunken confessions.

Though it’s no secret that the both of you harbor feelings for each other, neither of you has explicitly acted on them…until now.

“My GOD. You are so pretty. Like, I wanna take off my blindfold to appreciate you fully but your beauty just makes my eyes huuuurrrt!” “...Thank..you? It’s definitely your Six Eyes though–” “No, it’s all the pretty.”

“Heyyyyy, dance with me!~”

Yelling “I WANNA HAVE SEX WITH YOU PLEASE–” across the room.

Nobara for sure gets it on video. Megumi and Maki are appalled. Yuuji and Panda standing there with no thoughts behind their eyes. Toge’s lowkey entertained but will continue to remain to look unbothered. Nanami is rubbing his eyes and sighing deeply. Shoko for SURE eggs him on. Masamichi is ready to throw them both out.

You take it upon yourself to try and see if someone can get him home while you continue to celebrate with the kids, but Shoko is too drunk. That leaves…

“Nanami, can you–” “Absolutely not. Have a good night.”

And that’s how you end up hauling that man back to your apartment…because he caused a scene when you tried to take him home to his.

Literally just clings to you and cannot be detached from you for the life of him.

You set up a bed for him on the couch, but the second you turn around–

“I wanna sleep with youuuu!” Satoru whines, hugging you tightly from behind as you wash your face for the night. “Why are you kicking me out?”

You sigh exasperatedly before shooting him a stern look.

“Satoru. Couch. Go.”

You go to lay in bed and after having your eyes closed for only five minutes, your door opens and he’s crawling into bed behind you whining.

“Wanna stay here with you. You have more pillows.” “I can give you extra pillows if you want som–” “Boobs. I want your boobs :D”

At that point, you literally just give up. He’s spooning you from behind, clinging to you so tightly that you literally feel his dick hardening against you as his large hands knead your breasts.

His mouth is pressed right to your ear, murmuring promises as he begins to finally fall asleep.

“I swear…when I’m more sober, I’m gonna fuck the shit out of you. Promise.”

You both take work off the next day. Everyone knows why.

SUGURU GETO

Seductive. Suave. Charming.

When Suguru gets enough alcohol in him, he turns into such a romantic.

Everyone thinks you guys are together and have been together for a while solely based on his body language.

Without any inhibitions left to deter him from fully expressing his fondness for you, he allows you to be his center of gravity–when you move, he moves.

His body naturally leans towards yours. He adjusts his body so that it’s clear his attention is only on you even when you’re not speaking. No one else exists to him.

Very put together. If it weren’t for him being more flirty than usual, you wouldn’t even think he was under the influence.

Whisks you away shamelessly away from other people when he feels like you’ve been giving them more attention than them.

You’re talking to a group of coworkers when suddenly Suguru comes up from behind you and places a hand on your waist.

“Excuse me, ladies. You wouldn’t mind if I stole this beauty away for a dance, would you?” He purrs.

But he’s not asking. By the time he’s done speaking, you’re already being swept away by him. He doesn’t even wait for a response, nor does he care to notice the way said coworkers gawk at you jealously.

This man literally twirls you around the dancefloor with a big smile on his face. His eyes never leave yours.

“What’d gotten into you?” You laugh softly as he dips you.

He simply shakes his head and chuckles.

“Nothing. I’m just really in love with you and there is quite literally nothing in the way to get in my head or stop me from saying it anymore.”

It’s a simple, straightforward, and intimate confession that is oh so Suguru.

KENTO NANAMI

Our main is a heavy drinker who can handle his liquor expertly, so…you’re the tipsy one.

You, Satoru, Shoko, Utahime, and Kento are all at a sushi bar celebrating a successful semester and the steady growth of your kids.

Too swept up in the good vibes, you don’t stop yourself from having a drink of choice with Shoko each time she orders a sake bomb.

Little by little, your laughs increase until they’re filling the room.

Kento is the first to notice, glancing down at you with a barely noticeably softened expression as all of your worries are alleviated–even if it’s just momentarily.

The two of you worked more closely than the others knew. Yuuji had taken a close liking to you, so naturally, you and Kento convened often to discuss his progress and needs.

Of course, these little meetings extended into ones of a more personal nature like grabbing lunch, a bakery run, or even a simple walk.

It was safe to say that Kento Nanami, the adult of all adults, had developed a soft spot for you.

Which is why he can feel his face heat up and his heart begin to pound against his chest as your head falls against his shoulder, giggling as you stare up at him.

Unable to help himself, he gives you a gentle smile, placing a hand on your cheek.

“You’re really warm.” He comments. “Would you like to get some fresh air?”

“Yea! I wanna see all the twinkly lights the stores have put out!” You chime, tugging on his sleeve.

The blond affectionately groans before helping you into your coat and slipping his on, stepping out of the booth.

“I’m taking her for a walk. We’ll be back.” “Ooh! Can we–” “No.”

With that, he helps you up and out of the restaurant, your hand clasped in the crook of his arm.

Your friends are suddenly sobered up at the table, shooting each other shocked expressions.

“...You guys saw that right?”

Meanwhile, you and Kento are walking down the street leisurely as you literally babble nonstop.

“I wanna take Yuuji here for dinner one day, we should go together! It’ll be really nice for us both to spend time with him, since we’re basically like his parents right? You know what parents do? Kiss! Why haven’t we–”

Kento halts your runny mouth with a finger pressed to your lips, the most honeyed expression on his stupidly handsome face as he gazes at you.

“As adorable as you are at this moment, I really want to have this conversation with you when you’re mind is clear enough to remember it.” He whispers, pulling your coat around you tighter as a gust of wind blows by. “We’ll talk tomorrow. Okay?”

TOJI FUSHIGURO

Toji literally cannot get drunk, so guess who's spilling their guts? You.

You’re out with some girlfriends for a Friendsmas dinner when the sangria hits you all a little too hard.

Your best friend is left with no choice but to take your phone and call the guy you’ve been seeing to come pick you up.

While you loved Toji, admitting it yourself–but especially him–was a terrifying concept to you all because of a certain little sea urchin-like haired toddler…Megumi.

God, you loved that kid. You loved him to absolute death. He practically felt like your own child. Which was even scarier because what if things didn’t work out between you and Toji? What if one day he decided that his late wife couldn’t be replaced? Would he resent you?

All of that reservation flies out of the window when you’re carried into his apartment and are greeted with a sleepy Megumi in the doorway, having been watched by a neighbor.

“Mama?”

You literally sob. It’s quite embarrassing considering your inebriated state, but the emotions cannot be contained any longer.

The toddler frowns, his father’s expression mirroring his own. He had never seen you so…fragile.

“God, I love you guys.” You confess tearily. “I’m so sorry that this is how you have to hear it but–”

Your interrupted by two forces against you; muscle arms around your shoulders from behind and a small body hugging your front tightly.

“Silly, mama.” Megumi giggles.

Toji’s deep laugh fills your ears alongside his deep, adoration-laced tone.

“Yea…silly mama.”

AOI TODO

Friendsmas gets a little too lit when the great Aoi Todo is around.

Yuuji playfully insists on trying every flavor of Soju and of course, his brother tags along.

But in true Aoi Todo fashion, he does things with a little too much gusto….he’s drunk as shit now.

Eventually, the girls decide to break off and convene at your place for a sleepover, having had enough of the boisterousness for the night.

You’re literally minding your business having a conversation with Mai, Maki, and Nobara while Momo and Miwa make everyone some late night noodles when suddenly a love song by Takada is being blasted from your balcony window.

“This that…?” Miwa squeaks, clearly caught off guard.

It definitely is. The flow of the cursed energy, Takada blasting, there’s no questioning who the hell is outside of your window.

Nobara already has her phone out to document the moment, the Zenin sisters are snickering as they stare at you, Momo is actually floored. Miwa…beyond floored.

“You have so much shit to tell us.” Nobara laughs.

“Yea, what did that happen? You and Todo?”

“NOW apparently!” You whisper frantically. “What do I do–”

“TO THE LOVE OF MY LIFE IN APARTMENT B347, THIS IS FOR YOU!”

You’re literally shoved outside to confront a drunk Aoi Todo singing along to his idol as Yuuji holds a Bluetooth speaker in the air next to him.

“You guys…”

“Y/N I WANNA MARRY YOU, REMEMBER THIS MOMENT WHEN IT’S TIME TO TELL OUR FUTURE KIDS HOW WE MET–”

“Please come inside!” You hiss.

“DO YOU SHARE THESE SAME SENTIMENTS OF LO–”

“Yes, for the love of god, I love you too, but please come inside before I get evicted.”

“SUCCESS, BROTHER!”

SHIU KONG

Horny. That’s it.

You’re with him at some fancy restaurant dressed to the nines for a business dinner with colleagues of his.

Every person at the table is shady at very best. Hell, yourself included.

But there are no thoughts of right and wrong when a tipsy Shiu whose lips taste like the smoothest, finest whiskey assault your own as he thrusts into you vigorously from behind.

“Good girl. I knew you’d get us that deal…you’re too damn pretty for anyone to say no to, sweetheart.” He purrs into your ear, words slightly slurred.

Your hands grip the edge of the counter tightly, letting out a breathy laugh in between hushed moans.

“How is it that you fuck better after a few drinks in you?” You tease, earning you a deep chuckle.

“Because you’re my woman and I love you. And I wanna keep doing this with you, living this life with you. No matter how messed up it is.” He pants against your ear.

#satoru gojo x reader #suguru geto x reader #kento nanami x reader #toji fushiguro x reader #aoi todo x reader #shiu kong x reader #satoru gojo smut #shiu kong smut #jjk x reader #jjk fanfic #jjk #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen fanfic #jujutsu kaisen

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steddiecameraroll · 2 days

Text

Pt 1

Steve tells Eddie about the bet

“Dude, you’re not going to believe this.” Steve leans against Eddie’s headboard and tries to exude nonchalance.

“Sup?” Eddie plucks his acoustic guitar trying to work on one of his new songs.

“At work yesterday, Rob and I were talking about random shit and you won’t believe it, but for some reason she thinks you have a small dick.”

“What?” Eddie stops moving his fingers to gawk at Steve.

“I know, man.” Steve puts his hands up with a shrug. “I tried to defend you because we’re friends, and that’s a part of the code. I’m not gonna let someone say that about you. But she was weirdly adamant, even bet me. Which, I mean, that’s crazy.”

“She bet you? Wait,” Eddie furrows his brows. “She bets I have a small dick?”

“Yeah, rough. I bet you don’t, though.” Steve takes a sip of his beer to stop from saying anything further.

“Of course I don’t. What does she think small is? Does she think I have a micro or something?” Eddie puts his guitar down and turns to face Steve completely.

“I don’t know.”

“Why would she say that? Does it look small in my pants?” Eddie looks down at his crotch and Steve tries to keep his eyes pointed upwards.

“Y’know I haven’t really looked.”

“Shit,” Eddie stands up and shakes his jeans out. “Does it look small?” He keeps his head down trying to gauge based off the bulge.

“Um, it’s kinda hard to see.”

“What?” Eddie angles his hips trying to let the overhead light shadow over his jeans. “Wait, it’s just cause they’re black jeans. Look.” He says before quickly unbuckling his pants and then shoving them down to his thighs exposing the blue plaid boxers underneath. “See?”

Steve swallows hard when he notices Eddie thrusts his hips forward a little to accentuate the tenting of fabric.

“Mhmm, yep,” Steve says tightly.

“What was the bet?” Eddie leaves his jeans around his thighs and crosses his arms.

“Oh, uh,” Steve shakes his head and averts his eyes. “I’d have to buy her like an entire feast of breakfast foods. Basically enough food to feed a village.”

“Would you get any?”

“Probably not,” Steve nods solemnly. “She’s kinda selfish like that.”

She’s not, at all, and Eddie would know that if he was thinking with anything other than the size of his dick. But Steve’s taking the chance.

“Well y’know what? Screw her. I don’t have a small dick.” He leans forward and grabs his crotch for emphasis.

“Yeah, screw her. I bet you don’t.”

“Yeah, fuck that!” Eddie hooks his thumbs into his waistband and pulls his boxers down exposing his semi hard dick to Steve’s hungry eyes. “See?” Eddie takes his dick comfortably into his hand and absentmindedly starts tugging on it. “That’s not small.”

“N-no, nope, not at all.” Steve can’t stop himself from biting his bottom lip.

“I bet you have a big dick too, Harrington. Buckley doesn’t know what she’s talking about.” Eddie’s eyes drop to Steve’s crotch while his hand begins stroking himself slowly.

“It’s not as big as yours, but yeah it’s above average. She’s so wrong. I wouldn’t even know what to do with that thing.” Oh yes he would.

“You wanna touch it?” Eddie lets his now fully erect dick go, and it bobs in the air tauntingly.

“Sure?” Steve shifts on the bed to his knees, sets his beer on the nightstand, and crawls over to the edge in front of Eddie.

“She’s gonna owe you so much fucking food, man.” Eddie grins and Steve sorta forgot what they were talking about. “Go ahead, feel the weight.”

Steve reaches for it, trying to act like this isn’t life changing for him, and when his fingers brush against the soft warm skin of Eddie’s shaft the man suddenly shudders under the touch. A soft huff escapes Eddie’s lips when Steve looks up, mouth open, fingers wrapping around Eddie’s dick. Steve sees something flicker behind Eddie’s eyes that looks a lot like lust.

“Oh fuck,” Eddie sighs before leaning forward, grabbing Steve’s face, and kissing him hard.

Steve melts into the kiss finding it’s everything he imagined.

“You’re gonna fucking tell Buckley, you know for a firsthand fact my dick isn’t small.” Eddie growls then pushes Steve back onto the mattress before crawling over his body and kissing him senseless.

“Yeah I am,” Steve smiles and shifts his hips to get his legs comfortably wrapped around Eddie, pulling him in closer.

Eddie takes a pull off his cigarette before passing it to Steve.

“I still don’t understand why she thinks I have a small dick.”

Steve puts the filter to his lips and ducks away to hide a smile. “No idea.”

“How did that even come up?” Eddie stretches out next to Steve, still naked, with the sheet only covering his lower half.

“We were just talking,” Steve shrugs before passing the cigarette back.

He knows that’s probably not a good enough excuse, so when Eddie puts the cigarette to his mouth Steve leans over and starts kissing along Eddie’s pecs to distract him. Eddie hums and stretches more, dropping his fingers into Steve’s hair and scratching gently.

“But, what were you talking about?”

Steve stops his kissing to lean up on his elbow and look Eddie in the eye. “Ok, don’t get mad, buuuut…” Eddie raises his eyebrows. “She only bet because I made her.”

“What?”

“I kinda wanted to see your dick, and I figured you’d show it to me if I told you Robin thought it was small.” Eddie’s mouth falls open. “But! I did not expect this turn of events. I’m not complaining,” he rushes out hoping to reassure Eddie. “Actually, I’m really happy about this.”

“Why didn’t you just ask?” Eddie says with a grin.

“What, oh hey, Eddie. Can I see your dick? I kinda can’t stop thinking about it and want to know how accurately close my imagination is. Like that?”

“Yeah, that woulda worked.”

“Jesus,” Steve sighs then collapses onto his back next to Eddie with a smile.

He’s going to be so sore tomorrow but it’s totally worth it.

Robin definitely owes him waffles.

#Eddie joins them at breakfast to Robin’s surprise #she’s grateful when he never brings it up #Steve made him promise not to tease her or she’d kill Steve #pt 2 #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddiecameraroll posts #my writing

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elysianeclipxe · 1 year

Text

How they react to seeing you sleep on the couch

genre: fluff and a little crack?? (just stupid parts)

summary: how these genshin men react to coming home and seeing you asleep on the couch while waiting for them to come home

word count: >800 words

sidenote: just note that you might not agree with the characters in that section, this is just how i see them as. OH YEAH, uhmm navigation is in the works so after that y'all can start requesting if you want

picks you up bridal style and brings you over to the bed

To them this is the quickest way to get you into bed. They don't want to bother you by waking you up since you're probably in a deep sleep at that point, but they also don't want to let you continue sleeping on the couch since the chances of you waking up with a stiff neck are extremely high. They’re such caring partners to the point I’m jealous. Some of them are pretty nonchalant about their love for you though, but if they’re sweet enough to do this then I think it’s pretty obvious they’re real into you. Will get really close to your face to either peck your lips or rub their nose against yours, just another reason why they prefer carrying you to bed. I can see them whispering a light “thank you” to your sleeping figure in their arms since they appreciate you trying to stay up for them. Excuse me, I did not ask for this sweetness, ughh.

— al haitham, diluc, gorou, kaeya, ZHONGLI

gently wakes you up and tells you to sleep in the bed

All of them are surprised that you stayed up and feel their hearts clench at the image of you sleeping, you’re so cute to them. Would try their best to be as quiet as possible and gently shake you awake. You deserve to get some proper sleep… in their arms. AHHHHHHHHHH!!! I can easily confirm that when you wake up still half asleep their eyes would get so soft at the sight in front of them, a smile crawling up their lips cause omg how are they so lucky to have you. Will guide you to bed and tuck you in again before joining you in. Lets you lay your head on their chest and will stroke your hair or run their fingers through it to ease you to sleep. It’s so cute how smitten they are for you.

— ayato, baizhu, THOMA, tighnari

drapes a blanket over you and kisses you goodnight

I can spot sweethearts from a mile away, and these men are it! I’m only like 27% joking rn. HEAR ME OUT!! Yes you’ll probably have a stiff neck in the morning cause of this but they are so sweet when you’re asleep. Really doesn’t want to wake you up so they just let you sleep there, will cover you with a blanket so you don’t get cold. Sighs cause they find you so pretty, one of them for sure has a blush on his cheeks seeing you look so soft *cough* cyno. ANYWAYS, leans down and cups your cheek with his hand and stokes it with his thumb. Kisses you goodnight on the forehead, lets their lips linger there for a bit before pulling away with a smile. Aww, they’re so whipped.

— aether, albedo, cyno, KAZUHA

tries to fit themselves on the couch to cuddle and sleep with you

THESE MFS!!!! Does not give the slightest fuck if you are sleeping on a couch half their size THEY WILL MAKE IT WORK. Just like breathing = living, sleeping will always equal cuddles, it’s just a given. The idea of y’all sleeping in a proper bed just goes over their head, plus this seems more fun. They’ll whisper for you to move a bit so they can fit in. Just saying, these idiots are probably gonna wake you up in the process. Don’t worry tho, they’ll bring you close to their body and give you enough body warmth for you to fall back into sleep. Is the type to bury their head in the crook of your neck, mumbling a soft goodnight that you instantly relax to.

— childe, ITTO, venti, kaveh, heizou

leaves you on the couch, might check up on you here and there

I don’t wanna make them look anti-romantic but y’all I cannot even sugarcoat the fact that they would not care if you were sleeping on the couch or not. I'M SORRY!! But like they probably think you slept there on purpose so the idea of moving you to the bed would not even be there. They think you’re weird for sleeping there, for sure will ask you about it the next day. As much as I want to make them seem like the most unromantic person ever (jk) they will check on you ever like 10 minutes minimum. At one point they get so tired of walking back and forth from the living room and the bedroom that they decide to just sit on the floor beside the couch and sleep there. You’ll probably wake up and see your hand intertwined with theirs, they’re soft boys in disguise.

— dainsleif, WANDERER, xiao

nothing much left to say other then thank you for reading and i hope you enjoyed the little scenario i made <3 let's hope i can actually be more consistent with posting, mwah

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usedpidemo · 2 months

Text

Stargazing (Twice Mina)

With the way things are going, Mina’s begging for trouble. And not the usual slap of the wrist kind that celebrities get away with—the kind that’s scandalous, career damning.

She’s so close to falling apart.

And as you watch her come undone—the very image that defines her gradually disappears—you can’t help but think: she deserves this.

—————

If there’s any clear-cut takeaway, it’s this: Mina is designed to be gorgeous, and she plays the part to near perfection.

That’s the whole point. Here’s a sea of media outlets and paparazzi, accompanied by flashing cameras and screaming fans on one side. On the other, stars and figures from different fields, all dressed to the nines and emanate a distinguishable aura. The ‘I’m better than you’ kind. No amount of modest smiles and perfectly curated PR-fluff can disguise the noxious air of celebrity on the red carpet.

Then you look at Mina, wearing the hell out of that backless dress, designed by none other than yours truly (you). You couldn’t have asked for a better muse. She carries herself and your brand around with a confident smile—with pride—seemingly indifferent to the raucous screams telling her to look this way, that way. Wherever her profile turns, cameras illuminate the crowd in near-perfect unison.

It’s a slow motion fashion moment.

As if she couldn't look any prettier, she brushes her hair with a quick, delicate swipe of her hand with queenly grace. The cameras live for moments like these. It’s what goes viral online; it’s what gets social media buzzing. She’s a K-pop idol, the media will say and it’s true, but she doesn’t look out of place with the so-called elite. If anything, she blends in seamlessly, rich, quiet, and enigmatic personality and all.

Cameras continue to follow her as she walks through the carpet. She greets a few other celebrities in the vicinity; mostly Hollywood actresses and artists before she disappears behind the steps of the building. Throughout the entire ordeal, you were never on her mind, not even during interviews, nor when she was in clear view, even though you made her what she is now. All she can think about is herself and her character. That’s how fame works.

You don’t even get a text. Your only reference is a note that reads 23:00.

—————

The next time you see Mina is hours later, at the promised time. One slender leg enters the backseat of the vehicle. She remains mostly untouched, leaving the gala looking the same as when she entered. She’s considerate enough to wave and give a flying kiss to the crowd, who unsurprisingly, go crazy for her. It’s a convincing act. You would, too, if you weren’t always by her side for ninety percent of the day.

She breathes out this deeply relieved sigh once the door slams shut. She’s tired—of being someone else, and just exhausted in general; she’s been in front of a mirror since five in the morning and it’s almost midnight by the time the event ends. You can tell she’d rather be in her hotel suite than anywhere else.

So you drive. No words. Just hit the road and get out of there.

Even late into the night, Paris is still bustling and lively. You don’t make it past three streets before being met by traffic ahead. It’s an agonizing crawl. The satnav says you’ll arrive at your hotel by 2:00 in the morning. Mina probably won’t make it by midnight, at this point because she’s on the verge of falling unconscious, resting her head on the door. Her heels are set on the opposite end, with her lower half resting along the edges of the backseat into a couch position.

Even when she’s asleep, she’s still gorgeous.

“Miss?” you gently call to her, snapping her from her tired daze. She gives you a mild stare through the rear-view mirror, unable to speak.

“We’re gonna be held up by traffic. You want something to eat?” you ask, knowing she likely won’t take anything more than a handful of fries or half a burger.

“Sure. Whatever.” Mina sounds cold, a little annoyed somewhat. The past day has been unkind to her health; she arrived at the airport yesterday after a different schedule and barely had less than five hours of rest before dedicating the entire day for a gala she had contractual obligations to attend. She couldn’t say no even if she wanted; she’s got her whole schedule curated and planned out for months.

You have more time to get her dresses planned out and prepared out than she has to breathe.

And time is unkind to both of you right now. Traffic trogs along at a snail’s pace. The arrival time on the satnav moves further and further away. Sunrise will meet you above a red light at this rate. How anyone gets around in this city considering the number of events that are happening all at once is beyond you. You only drive through Paris a handful of times a year, all for the same reason, and you abhor the idea—let alone the experience—every single time.

It’s difficult enough to wait, especially in this late of hours, when money and careers are on the line. Even more challenging is keeping a cool head and withholding yourself from using your instincts against the trusted systems of the algorithm. Mina will call you many things. She’ll call you insane. You don’t mind; it’ll be on the lower end of insults and comments you’ve heard from the so-called ‘elite.’

At the end of the day, you’re just simply following orders.

You swerve off the main road, into narrow alleys and streets that aren’t registered on any official map. Anywhere that can give you a sense of progress and hold momentum. You drive. You make liberal use of your klaxon against anything and anyone. You go around in circles, sometimes looking at the satnav if it’s kind enough to give you a shorter, quicker path. In your haste, you completely overlook the star, the celebrity you’re meant to protect and coddle like fine art, and cracks begin to form.

“Shit!” Mina fastens the seatbelt, in distress and wide awake from your uncharacteristically aggressive driving. She lifts her head. Pierces your gaze through the rearview mirror with a mixture of panic, concern, and frustration. All that hours spent in the makeup room to look perfect, down to the smallest of details, coming undone within a few minutes.

She seemed rather proud of her appearance, too.

Of course, her demands bounce off your ears—or ring through like white noise. You only know your task. Get her safe.

Even though it’s your very idea, you forget about the thought of eating, too. You’ve passed by a couple of McDonalds along the way, but are blinded by tunnel vision to recognize a single one. It’s not a big loss; she’s as tired of eating fast food as much as you are. It isn’t good for her image right now, either.

Eventually, you do make it back to her hotel. A little over midnight, but still not as early as you wanted to be. You look at the status of your passenger princess. She’s about as coddled as a five year old playing with her doll. A mess.

When you open up the door for her to step out, it’s a dramatic moment that gathers everyone’s attention and fixes every eye. It’s loud.

It also so happens to be empty in the area.

The way she slaps you in the cheek echoes throughout the valet like the sharp crack of a whip, or the pop of a firework. Fucking hell, she hits hard. For a dainty woman like Mina, she’s surprisingly strong. “What the hell is wrong with you?” she snaps, cold and bitter.

You find no mistake in what you did. In fact, you believe you’re doing her a service. Tomorrow, she’ll be at the airport and out of the country faster than when she came in. She doesn’t have to think about you for the foreseeable future. You only see a moody, ill-tempered celebrity frustrated that circumstances haven’t gone her way. Chalk it up to fatigue, but you can’t be arsed to explain yourself or react accordingly at this point.

She’s also pretty when she’s angry, you can’t help but think. Not the pouty, cute, wholesome kind—the ‘I’m gonna rip your throat’ out kind of ire. Sometimes you forget your job and admire just how gorgeous Mina is. You’re no different than the paparazzi or the average fan.

It makes her heated. You’re mentally smirking.

It would be a waste to fight over something as petty as reckless driving this late. No one got hurt; not a single traffic light or speed limit was violated. But her heart jumped a little bit when she expected the least. In her eyes, it’s a reasonable enough incident to show some attitude and assert her status over you.

But not tonight.

Instead, you take her by the wrist and lead her to the alley beside the hotel, away from potential cameras and prying eyes. She yelps, but you slip a hand around her mouth so she remains quiet. Mina is too tired to show some resistance.

“Listen here, Miss Myoui,” you tell her, pointing your finger directly at her. “I did everything right to make sure you have a fine, comfortable experience in Paris. Did your dress, drove you around, everything. What I did was save you a few hours of sleeping in the car. I never asked for anything from you, so don’t come acting like an ungrateful brat.”

“Fuck you.” Mina raises her palm, readying another thunderous, face cracking slap as a threat. “I could have done all that instead if I wanted to.”

“Need I remind you who made the dress that you’re wearing?”

She freezes, unable to find some form of retaliation or rebuttal.

“Thought so.”

“Well what am I supposed to do, then? Get on my knees and worship you as my lord and savior?” she asks.

Suddenly, something clicks inside your head. An idea.

“That—” you pause, mentally noting the entire sequence in a flash, “Actually, that’s not a bad idea.”

“I’m not doing it.” Mina rolls her eyes, turning her gaze away and crossing her arms. Somehow, she’s managed to recognize your intent so quickly. What isn’t surprising is her natural cleverness and intelligence. “Not tonight. Not after what you did.”

“I didn’t do anything.”

“That’s what you believe, asshole.” She shakes her head. “Just—let me go.”

“Would be such a shame if a rumor spread around then that you were spotted in the bathrooms with one of the billionaires,” you say, blunt in your threat. “Wouldn’t you hate that? I hear there was a tabloid photo of you spotted with one of the presidential candidates too—”

“You lie.” Mina’s eyes glare at you. You don’t flinch.

She’s not wrong. You’re only telling a half-truth. It’s true that there were billionaires who attended. It would be a strange event if there weren’t any present, in Paris of all places. The report of a presidential candidate showing up is legitimate as well, but that’s as much as you know as the general public. What goes on inside, you have no knowledge of.

“And what happened there was nothing at all,” she adds. “So quit trying to blackmail me and just let me fucking rest.”

“Then explain this to me.” You point at the dress she’s wearing—your dress—and find different sized patches where they shouldn’t belong. They’re not by design; they’re clearly the result of some kind of external tampering or meddling. Around where her legs should be. Near her tummy. The gala is an indoor event, yet it looks as if she had been soaked in some capacity.

Something’s quite off.

“So?” Mina defends herself, unwilling to concede. “Got spilled by drinks, and you don’t really care if it gets ruined.”

While it’s true you usually don’t mind your dresses getting ruined, it comes at a price. “I’m not mad. And yes, I don’t care if you do fuck all with that dress. Hell, that candidate is very lucky he got to clap that—”

“Shut up!”

By instinct, Mina slaps you again.

You chuckle. The sore redness of your cheek isn’t going to silence you.

As she tries to walk away, you grab her by the wrist again. Pull her close to your chest. She trembles, but can’t do anything to stop or shake you loose.

“So you admit? You got fucked by that candidate?”

“No!” Mina remains adamant in her tone. She twists your grip to free herself. “Just—fucking stop already!”

“Only if you blow me. Just a quickie.”

“What? Why?”

“As remittance for the ruined dress, of course. Remember? Ruined dress, ruined cunt.” You can’t help but grin as you remind her of the terms of your agreement. It’s not written in the contract, but a mutual trust shared between you and your muses.

Mina sighs. A deal is a deal, even if it’s not signed on the dotted line. And she has the experience to show for it. Ultimately, she reluctantly agrees, sounding defeated in her response. “Fine. But after this, we’re fucking done.”

“I’m in a bit of a good mood today, so I don’t want your pussy,” you tell the disgruntled Mina, unbuckling your belt then unzipping your pants. “Not gonna lie, the thought of some future president fucking that cunt of yours makes me sick. Get on your knees.”

God, it feels wrong, but you’re enjoying every little moment of this, down to the finer details. The look of dissatisfaction on Mina’s face. The fact you can get her flustered with your teasing. The fact she’s obediently on her knees as you whip out your hard cock directly in front of her. She can tell you as many lies as she wants, but they have no firm ground to stand on. She’s not some stuck-up star unlike many others in that gala, but even she needs to be humbled once in a while.

“His dick is better than yours, anyway. I won’t miss this pathetic piece of shit,” she tells you, gripping to the hem of your dress, dodging every attempt to slip your shaft between her lips.

All the more reason to plunge it deep in her throat.

“Is it? This piece of shit you love to ride on?” You grab your cock and pursue her evasive mouth. You have a hand planted on her scalp, holding her still, as she begrudgingly accepts your length between her lips slowly, in a losing effort to fight back. She gulps her throat, watching as her cheeks hollow, as drool begins to coat your sensitive shaft, until eventually, her seal is vacuum-tight and tension builds up in your groin. “This cock you want to use—fuck—”

Words fail you as you become reacquainted with the warmth of Mina’s mouth. She bobs her head back and forth, slipping a hand around the base of your shaft to stroke. Your cock is poking the back of her throat, your senses relaxing at the pleasure coursing through your body. You feel yourself slipping away—at the cold, at the heat of her sweltering lips, at the layer of saliva that fills every inch of your length. It’s all too much.

This is Mina’s least favorite position. She’d rather have you beneath her most of the time, relentlessly bouncing on your cock till you’re completely drained; it’s how most encounters with her go to the point you simply give up and expect yourself on the mattress as soon as you enter her room. None of that matters now, not when she needs your very shaft to fill her thirsty, dry mouth, as a palette cleanse from the boring gala and because she needs you as much as she utterly hates you.

She doesn’t like the thought of you above her. Her eyes can’t be bothered to look up. It’s a strange dynamic; she’s the celebrity, she’s supposed to have control, not you. Your hand tugs on her black hair, begging her for more, and it reinforces the idea. You love this. Mina, the quiet, cold personality that everyone wants to be like, is zealously sucking you off and you’re helpless to how incredible she is. The suction of her throat. The drag of her tongue on your head, then on the sides. The passionate hum of satisfaction. You recognize the smug grin etched on the corner her lips while she doesn’t bother to look back, knowing full well she can take you any way she wants and you’ll fucking love it. She’s so aggressive, yet perfectly paced.

And she moves like she can read your mind—cum and saliva dripping from the corners, her tongue running laps around your balls, her mouth devouring you entirely with each entrance. Small, whiny sounds that resemble a choke—they’re nothing compared to the echoey moans you can’t help but make. You’re gasping for air as if she’s punctured a hole in your lungs—and to an extent, she has. Your body instinctively has to remind itself they’re leaning on air, because she’s making your spine contort in ways they shouldn't be twisting.

Mina is quite used to this. The notion of having to suck a cock. Not just yours, but fans, higher-ups in suits, all kinds. She’ll tell you yours is the best one, and you’ll believe her. You can tell by personal experience. You shouldn’t let control slip, especially now, when such power is rarely vested on you, but you can’t help yourself. There’s some urgency in handling her, but it might be a little too late. Especially when—

“Mina,” you pant, and you sound so desperate. “So close, Mina. I’m so close. I’m gonna—”

She continues to create friction, and eventually fire. Her hands wring around your balls and your base, tightening the coil of pressure in your stomach and in your veins. Spiraling further and further out of control, you can feel your legs crumble in a last ditch attempt to hold on. With your remaining resolve, you cling to whatever semblance of clarity you can find.

And she plunges her lips further into your length. Her tongue descends lower, to the underside of your balls. None of that disdain and hate from moments ago can be found, only zeal and passion. It’s not graceful in the slightest; it goes against everything her image represents, yet she’s so damn good at it, you can’t stomach the thought of her doing something this filthy, this obscene. The very idea breaks reality. Yet here she is, on her knees, a mouth filled by cock, encouraging you to cum without uttering a single word.

So you oblige her.

You don’t give her the decency of asking. You just pour it all over her with reckless abandon. Yanking her by the scalp, swiftly pulling yourself away in the heat of climax, blasting thick warm seed all over her pristine features, using her visage as a canvas for all your repressed thoughts. Mina welcomes every drop, sticks her tongue out with an inviting stare, unfazed by all that hot load you’re shooting directly at her. Her professionalism is practically hardwired, second nature to allow herself to be used this freely. It’s more than personal satisfaction; it also pays the bills.

It’s a win-win.

“Happy?” she asks, propping herself back on her feet, using the top of the dress to clean herself. Not a waste when it’s sole purpose is to be one and done.

The mess around your groin—residue sticking on your pants—answers her question. You can only nod in agreement as you clumsily and slowly gather your bearings. She shakes her head, amused at your predicament, but proud of her work.

Mina acts nonchalant, walks back to the hotel while you still work through your trousers, as if nothing ever happened. As if you weren’t moaning in public about how airtight her lips are around your cock. You hurriedly follow her, only to be met with a surprise waiting just past the entrance doors.

“I hope Paris has been kind to you so far, Miss Minari, because we certainly won’t be.”

Three comically mischievous men of similar stature and appearance, in nearly identical outfits (a simple shirt, coat, jeans and beret combination, how inspired) with the most cartoonishly evil looks on their faces. They could be anyone on the street. You can immediately tell they’ve been waiting for some time.

“Who are you?” you ask, stepping in front of your client. Mina looks nervous, quietly analyzing the three suspicious characters.

“Doesn’t matter who we are, even if we tell you,” replies the middle man, matter-of-factly. “We have no intention of hurting you.”

“If that’s the case, then please step aside. Miss Mina won’t be taking any requests and she’s very tired, sorry.”

“I don’t think so, buddy.”

“What?”

“We heard everything. You lucky bastard,” says the man on the left. “I don’t think Mina seems to be tired at all. In fact, I believe she wants more of it!”

All eyes turn to the person of interest, who seems to be in denial. Mina, this cold, calculated star, appears to have a harsh, sudden reaction. Offended by the comment, she angrily retorts, “No? What the hell are you saying?”

“Yeah, you heard the guy.” The third man steps forward, the other two close behind slowly approaching her. “It’s all over you. Don’t try to deny it. You enjoyed getting blasted all over that pretty face of yours!”

The three men nod in unison. You don’t have a firearm or any weapon on hand, but you’re willing to fight all three guys, even if you meet a terrible end. That’s the likeliest outcome. Lady luck seems to have disappeared on your side, but it’s part of the job, after all.

“Relax, girl. Again, we don’t wish to hurt you or your bodyguard.” The first man, the guy assuming leadership reiterates. It’s as civil and diplomatic as it sounds, but the looming threat remains prevalent. And it doesn’t do them any favors when they creep up towards both of you like wolves. “We just want what he has.”

“And what is it?” Mina frowns, hiding herself behind you, peeking over the shoulder, trembling.

“Oh, you know what we want, Miss Minari. Give it to us and then we’ll leave you alone.”

Where’s the security in this hotel, you wonder? The ground floor is dead empty of guests, which is to be expected, there’s hardly anyone at the front desk, and there are zero guards at the valet that normally wait for the next car to pull up. It’s midnight, what did you expect?

“Can’t I give you guys some money instead?” she pleads, desperate. She’s no longer hiding herself, but standing side by side with you. Shaking. Nervous. “Name your price and I’ll pay it.”

“I don’t think that will work, miss.” The three men remain adamant. They have you trapped against the corner of the entrance door. Neither of you can hardly move, let alone run. “We’re in Paris. We can easily rob anyone for our keep.”

Judging by the rather expensive watches and sneakers they all sport, they seem to have a point.

“But please, we just want one. One round with the finest Japanese idol in the business. That’s it,” the first man adds, his cohorts nodding in agreement.

Mina turns to you, calling your attention. “Hey.” You’re on high alert, waiting for the moment for hell to break loose. She merely stares. Nothing comes out of her mouth, just an expressive, seemingly strange gaze that doesn’t register anything in your head, nor does it open up any sort of interpretation. And for a while, you don’t understand what’s happening or what’s her intent. The three guys seemingly wait, shrugging whenever you eye any one of them. There’s no rush; time seems to stop at that particular moment. You know their demand; you have ears. You just don’t know if Mina is actually serious about caving to the pressure.

—————

(And fucking hell, you’re so—so—screwed.)

You don’t know if Mina will recover after this. Specifically, her career.

Clothes scatter everywhere in the room, with no regard for cleanliness or the host’s decency. Mina is set in the middle of the mattress as its centerpiece. The star of the show. Her dress is bundled around her waist, baring her chest and legs, while every man is completely in the nude. She’s spread on her fours, with the two subordinates lined up parallel in front of her, the third right behind her. You plan to join after, when everyone’s seemingly tired, when you can have her all to yourself.

At least, that’s what you think will happen. You know she’s going to get used all night long. Mina’s bracing for impact, hoping she can walk out in one piece after this.

You’re holding your phone, ready to record every little thing that happens. It’s not by their request, but your own personal desire. You love seeing it—the notion of Mina getting her comeuppance. The two men in front of her waste no time, stroking themselves hard and slapping their cocks right into Mina’s face, spilling flecks of precum on her. You notice the giddiness in their expressions as they incline the idol’s chin up, nothing but unbridled lust on their faces. The only thing missing is hurling her around and ragdolling her.

“Such a pretty face deserves all this cum,” says the second guy. He’s on the pudgier side, evidently not meant to be in the same atmosphere, let alone the same bed as Mina. “I’ll have you know you were my bias, and you have the most numbers on my counter.”

Utterly shameless.

Meanwhile, the first guy, his colorful body filled with numerous tattoos, slaps Mina’s cheek hard. It ripples throughout her lithe figure, rattles the bed a little. She keens. He takes a moment to look at the hand that committed the sinful act. He’s shaking, in disbelief. He did that. It’s a moment in time, a monumental occasion. Anyone else in his position would be shouting in the streets, celebrating too.

You would.

The third guy, this aged man who’s evidently in his mid-to-late forties and probably shouldn’t be consuming K-pop, continues to stroke himself to Mina’s face. Too bad her mouth can only fit one cock at a time. Her hand grabs his shaft and he grips her hair instead as she pumps him at a delicate pace. Their collective moans fill the room as each person assumes a position around Mina’s sensitive holes, filling them hastily. No technique, no patience whatsoever.

It’s pornographic for all the wrong reasons. How it all came to be. The setup. The characters. The very scene itself. Down to the shitty camera recording. Not befitting of an idol such as Mina. It’s got its own charm, but for the most part, it's as disgusting as you imagined. You can’t believe she’d agree to this. At the same time, you can’t look away. It’s a car crash that you know is gonna happen, yet all you can do is watch helplessly—and stroke yourself hard to.

All three men have different rhythms in which they fuck Mina. Tattoos slowly pounding at her dripping cunt, accompanying each deep thrust with a loud smack of her ass. His one hand grabbing at the hem of whatever’s left of her dress, itching to rip it off. Mina’s moan is suppressed by Pudge’s cock protruding through her throat. A fistful of hair in his grip, the other on her flushed, reddened cheek. Expecting her to take his relentless rhythm, only for her gag with each pump into her airtight lips. As if he doesn’t know how giving head works. The oldest man loosens up, lets his body hang as Mina strokes his cock with her ironclad fingers, letting flecks of cum spread over her neck and her shoulders, content with letting her handle him how she wants.

In a way, it’s admirable seeing Mina like this. Three cocks and all, her commitment to fanservice and satisfaction is any fan’s dream for their idol. You’ve seen it firsthand before, how she attends to each fan one by one, but to handle multiple without a single complaint is quite the accomplishment. She’s gonna take it, and she’s going to love it.

And in fact, she does. You’ve never seen her this dedicated and into pleasuring anyone. How she uses her other hand to seize Pudge’s cock, spitting and licking the head, setting him ablaze. Even as the man with the tattoos begins to wreck into her sopping cunt, foregoing leisure for speed—as her whines echo throughout the room—she maintains her composure the best she can. Even begging him to go harder, which he obliges. The bed’s quaking, seemingly closer to collapse, as the man screams to the ceiling, “Fucking tight—so close—cumming—aah—”

All three men are clinging to Mina in some capacity. On her waist, using her hair, or her shoulders—as they all appear close to their climaxes. Their collective groans of pleasure make this evident noise that warrants numerous calls of disturbance or concern. Imagine the commotion when the staff called in to investigate eventually finds out. The notion spurs Mina as she leans further into it—looks right into the camera as she licks up Pudge’s underside. As if demanding you to take the best shot of her while doing it.

It’s scandalous—the way Mina uses her expressions to make herself look good even under duress. How she winks, sticks her tongue, twists her face into lewder and lewder reactions while the three men who seemingly have power over her, now fold under her control. If only you could step in and be a part of the show, but you can’t.

And she looks even better with cum all over her.

The three guys moan in unison for dramatic effect. As if it was part of the intended shot. One after the other, each man reaches their own orgasm and blasts their hot load onto some part of Mina’s body. None of them seem to find their way into what they initially wanted, which is her holes. Mostly—tattoos man is partly into a deep thrust when he meets his abrupt end, only filling part of her cunt with his seed before deciding to pull out and throbs onto her back, her legs instead. Pudge gets most of her face, which she happily accepts. But even with her mouth wide open, he can hardly land his cum onto her sweet lips. As for the old man, he was never a factor to begin with. He had spilled his cum on the side, on the shoulder, on some hair, on her fingers. He was done before the others even finished.

What an unexpected sight.

You stand from the couch you’ve been sitting on, close in on the aftermath of their orgasms, watching as they stand lifeless around the centerpiece that is Mina, running her fingers over all the cum spilled on her body. This is child’s play to her, yet the most surprising thing is: she wasn’t expecting any of the three guys to finish this soon, let alone all three of them. She has this unsatisfied look in her eyes observing her conduits, the supposed ‘threats,’ as if they didn’t live up to her expectation.

“Did I look good?” she asks you, tilting up, resting her head on her palm.

You show her the phone, speed past the raw footage. She watches like she’s the director—which she kind of is.

“Mm—not good enough,” she adds, grabbing the phone and grabbing a tripod from the bedside drawer. “Set it up over there and do it again. They’re not leaving this until they get it right. And you’re gonna show them the way.”

Looking at their tired, exasperated faces, they’d rather be anywhere but here.

As for Mina, she’s the most energetic you’ve seen her in a while, eager for more—and you’re gonna have to make some phone calls explaining why she isn’t at the airport by morning.

—————

(A/N: woo missed another deadline/date but happy birthday Mina! By request/commission, so thank you for waiting and I hope it was to your liking. I do agree we need more subby Mina but in the end she owns all of us let's be real XD Thank you for reading!)

#smut #kpop smut #twice #mina

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jarofstyles · 3 days

Text

The Favor 7

Hehe… hello. This is scandalous but I think you guys are gonna loooove it 🤭🤭🤭

The Favor masterlist

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WC- 6.8k

Warnings- slight angst, cheating (But is it bc they technically have permission?), Possessive H, exhibitionism, choking, unprotected sex, creampie, cum play, daddy kink (finally), degradation, etc

Y/N was slightly nervous for tonight.

Not only was she going to Harry’s house to spend the weekend there, but they were going out together to meet their friends.

After following Harry’s advice, she had tried to talk to Danny and had talked about how she felt like he didn’t really care to ask about her. He’d immediately become defensive, blowing it off as ‘you could have talked about your week and I would have listened! Why do I have to ask? We’ve been in a relationship for a while now, it should just be common practice!” But ultimately agreed to trying harder. He’d suggested they all go with the rest of the group to the pub crawl, something Y/N didn’t want to do but felt obligated to since she’d brought up him not trying. Harry hadn’t seemed bothered by the suggestion, merely agreeing and asking what time they were going to get there.

She had no clue what the dynamic between the three of them was going to be, but even more so because she felt the want to stick around Harry. He was her comfort zone right now, and maybe going out with the group was a bit of a mistake but she had to try. Didn’t she?

Sitting in the front seat of Harry’s car, she felt his hand tapping on the steering wheel. He had warmly received her, kissing her gently in the driveway before letting her get ready in his bathroom. But something was still a little off. She could feel it. She had to admit that she hadn’t expected him to be so okay with spending some of their allotted time together out and about, let alone with Danny, but she had figured he was just trying to stick to the agreement. Their Friday night hadn’t been appointed to anything specific.

Harry wasn’t much looking forward to this considering there was the tiniest bit of him that was bitter. Maybe a little more than a tiny bit, but he was trying to deny that. Seeing Danny tonight was something he didn’t want to do, maybe ever again. Perhaps it was dramatic, but seeing how he was with Y/N had royally pissed him off. The more he thought about it, the shittier this arrangement was but unfortunately he was a bit too selfish to let go of Y/N. He liked her a little too much. But that was all he’d let himself think about it.

The last thing he wanted to do was make Y/N feel bad for this considering he had been the one to tell her to try and talk this out. He’d had to say it, had to encourage her to mend relationships because she wasn’t truly his and he cared deeply about her happiness, but the selfish part of him had hoped she’d see through the feeble attempts to cover his own ass tonight.

One of the hardest things to think of though, was the fact that he had to keep his hands to himself tonight. He couldn’t swing his arm around her or adjust her hair, couldn’t rest his hand on hers. Couldn’t drag her face over to kiss him like they’d done in the bathroom stall, blurring some lines. He had to try to put boundaries in place for his own heart, but it was so difficult when he could see the nerves on her face. Looking at him as they drove like she could sense his weird mood.

“Are you drinking tonight?” He asked her softly, trying to diffuse some of the tension.

“No. I don’t really love drinking at these things.” She admitted. “I’m a clingy and horny drunk anyways. I’d probably crawl all over you.” Her nose scrunched at the thought, but it wasn’t a bad thing to him. Harry wouldn’t mind that at all, tending to her needy drunken whims- but again, she couldn’t considering her actual boyfriend would be there.

“Ah.” He nodded, flexing his hands on the wheel. “Well I’m not either. So we can pop in and stay for as long as you want before we head out.” He had no desire to go out with this group of people tonight. Really, he’d much rather introduce her to his other group of friends, the people he was far closer to, but that was crossing another boundary. Wasn’t it?

It wasn’t meant to be this complicated, lines weren’t supposed to be blurred but he found his hand twitching behind her back as she walked inside of the pub, restraining himself from placing the grip there to guide her.

Apparently no one found it weird they’d arrived together, greeting the both of them with tipsy smiles.

Jesus. Already drunk? It was barely past 9.

It was another reason Harry sometimes skipped out on things with them. They weren’t bad people, no, but he wasn’t someone who was actively looking to get drunk all the time. He found as time went on that he preferred to spend nights in quieter settings if it wasn’t at the other club. One they’d be visiting tomorrow.

That reminder improved his mood a bit as he let Y/N slide in to the booth next to Danny before taking up her other side. Her smile wasn’t the same one he usually got as Danny smeared a kiss to her cheek, pulling her in for a side hug that made Harry’s jaw click as he pulled away. It wasn’t fun to watch. It again raised the question in his brain of how the fuck he was okay with all of this? Knowing Y/N would leave with him tonight, sleep in his bed…. Harry would have been seething.

Yeah, he’d shared a few times in scenes but it wasn’t something he particularly enjoyed with his own submissives. In his relationships he could be considered an exhibitionist, sure, but it was strictly look but don’t touch. Something in his head was miswired, feeling irritated that the other man rested his arm behind her. Realistically he knew he didn’t have any right to feel that way but it didn’t stop his chest from burning as he picked up his seltzer water and took a sip.

“Are you drunk?” Y/N’s sweet voice broke through his internal struggle, making his eyes cut to them as her smile had turned to a frown.

“God, don’t nag me about it already.” The man groaned dramatically. “Yes, I’ve had a few. Were at a pub, babe. Don’t be a buzzkill, yeah? Thought you’d be loosened up by now.”

Harry stiffened, turning his head to look at the man. It was a little pathetic in his opinion, being so undone on a Friday night so early on. With his hair a mess and sweat on him from the drinks, face flushed… it wasn’t a good look. What he didn’t like even more though was the way he’d spoken to her.

“Watch it, mate.” Harry said lowly, not wanting to start a scene. Maybe Danny realized his error or didn’t want to get into it with Harry, seeing as his face paled a little before he raised his hand as if to motion he’ll back off before turning to converse with someone else.

Under the table he felt something warm nudge his hand, gathering his attention to see her smallest finger rub slightly over his in appreciation before she dropped it.

Y/N hadn’t expected to have Danny back off when Harry said it. Perhaps he was actually intimidated by him? He usually didn’t let things go easily and went on tipsy rants, usually about how women were ‘no fun’… but then again, she recalled Harry not being around for many of those. She hadn’t expected Harry to defend her either, which… fuck, made her insides flutter and squish as she felt his thigh against her own. She could feel him before she heard him, lips close to her ear as he quickly checked in on her.

“You alright?” He mumbled, trying not to get too close but failing a little bit. It was hard for her to complain when in reality she felt like she wanted to lean into him more than she wanted to cuddle her own boyfriend.

“Mhm. Just don’t go anywhere.”

Like he’d want to. It was hard to act normal in this circumstance, watching as she tried half heartedly to talk to Danny while he gave semi answers before turning back to talk sports stats. He stayed quiet, observing their dynamic under more of a microscope than he ever had before.

He could see that she was trying, even if it was just a little. Could see her face brighten as she tapped him with something else she thought of saying only for it to fall and that glitter leave her eye as he only gave little nods or ‘mhm’s or shakes of the head. His eyes went from the tv to the other guys, patting her shoulder every once in a while.

Had it always been like this? Truth be told, Harry hadn’t watched them much before. There was no reason to pay attention when Danny wasn’t talking to him and Y/N was off limits. He’d been attracted to her so he kept his distance, not wanting to interfere with a relationship.

Oh, the tables had fucking turned.

Regardless, he didn’t like it. He could feel her start to rescind into herself as she fiddled with her bracelets, pulling out her phone to check the screen for messages, nibbling on her lip as she tried to think of other things to say- and he couldn’t stand it.

It wasn’t a smart idea, no, but ever so slowly he slipped his hand over her thigh. Hidden by the table, he found her hot, bare skin under his fingertips as he slipped it under the hem of her skirt, curling over it and letting her feel him squeeze. Part of him relaxed a little bit at the ability to touch her, his hand hidden from view under the fabric, but he felt her stiffen up a bit as he did so. So under his breath, he muttered to her. “Relax.”

Y/N did. Swallowing thickly, she placed her hands on the table and left her phone open as she felt fingertips graze her inner thigh, Harry’s eyes seemingly on the television. He didn’t look suspicious at all, but she knew she had to train her face or people would know.

She’d been itching for his touch, but now that she had it she realized it was going to be a challenge to not react to him. Her body had already adjusted to craving him considering he’d shown her pleasure and safety in a way no one else had before.

Harry kept quiet as he inched his hand up further, feeling the heat of her cunt radiating through her panties and close to his hand. Her breathing was a bit heavier, he could tell from the sounds of it and the glimpses he took at her. Only when his smallest finger brushed over the humid fabric did she make a noise, only being smart enough to disguise it with a cough.

“Y’alright, babe?” Danny of course chose now to take interest in her, because of course. Y/N felt a bit fuzzy as she nodded, doing nothing to stop Harry as he applied more pressure to her cunt.

“Yeah, I’m okay. Throat’s a bit dry.” She cleared her throat, trying to sound normal while the man next to her rubbed his knuckle over her slit. He didn’t make any move to acknowledge it besides a smirk, his eyes glued to the game.

“Oh, are you gonna get another drink?” He asked, perking up. “Can you get me one? I’ll pay you back later, babe.” He smiled lazily.

“In- In a minute. I just have to answer an email.” She swallowed again, spreading her legs a bit more to let Harry touch. She didn’t want it to stop. As completely fucked up as it was, she felt her stomach burning for more. Danny had no idea Harry’s fingers were teasing her cunt, getting her more wet than he ever could. Letting her head hang down as she looked at the repeated flashing of the next letters to type, she thanked the stars her face was slightly masked by her hair. The dominant had slipped his fingers under the gusset of her panties, his middle digit entering her. Shallow thrusts of it kept it from being noticeable, but she shakily typed on her phone, whatever the fuck it was saying, as she felt him touch her.

Harry knew it was fucked too, but that didn’t stop him from enjoying this. Touching her in front of the man who clearly didn’t deserve her glittering eyes or her pouty lips, he’d take over then. He’d give her a good night she’d been hoping for. Hopefully she’d begin to see how much better she deserved, that he wasn’t going to change- but until she had that realization, he was going to help her get to it.

Sliding his hand out of her panties he knew she was pouting about it, bringing his middle to his lips to suck it clean before standing up. “M’going to the toilets.” He whispered, knowing she’d follow. Of course she would.

She was his good fucking girl.

—-

Y/N took a moment to breathe before standing on shaky legs, excusing herself for the same reason and to get their ‘drinks’- though she had an idea that he’d never get it. Wobbly knees straightened as she made her way into the dimly lit hall in the back of the place, eyes only just adjusting as she saw him leaned up at the darkest end of the hallway. Back against the wall and arms crossed over his chest, he looked a bit intimidating in the best way.

In any other scenario she’d run the other way. This was the picture of danger, walking in a dark hallway towards a tall, broad man with his arms flexed as he had them folded, but she’d never felt more inclined to take a walk on the wild side. He’d just fingered her under the table next to her boyfriend and she’d let him. Hell, she’d enjoyed it. It was wrong but it felt so fucking good that she couldn’t do anything but let him.

Over the last few weeks her body and mind had become accustomed to him and wanting to listen. It felt natural, spreading her legs for him and letting him touch what he deemed as his. He’d proven it last weekend when she’d left his house with his cum tricking into her panties as a parting gift. Her body had never reacted to her boyfriend like this, never felt that prickle of anticipation or rush in her throat at what he’d do next. It was safe to say that Danny could never give it to her the way Harry could, and she’d probably spiral about how she was pretty sure she couldn’t go without this later, but right now she was going to reap the benefits of being a good girl and listening to him.

She didn’t say a word, standing in front of him for only a second before his hand caught her hair and wrenched her head back, a growl leaving his throat as he caught her in a brutal kiss. Her toes curled in her shoes as she gasped against his mouth, fingers gripping his shirt as she caught herself on him. There was no hesitation, opening her mouth for him and whimpering at the taste of his tongue, melting into his body while his other hand grabbed a thick handful of her ass. Pressed up against her stomach, there was no question about if he was hard or not.

He was aching. Arching into him, Y/N didn’t care if she ran out of air so long as he was touching her. “My good girl.” He whispered darkly, pulling off to give her a second. “Didn’t know y’had it in you. Did you like that?” His eyes bore into her own, her already wet cunt clenching around nothing. He owned her attention.

“Uh huh.” She breathed, eyes rounded and bleary from the shock of the kiss, her body buzzing at his touch. It felt unreal, naughty, wrong but so fucking right. She hadn’t cared about Danny in that moment with his finger buried inside of her. All the girl cared about was Harry, how he touched her, if she was being good for him, if she was pleasing him. “Sir!” She quickly added on, realizing her mistake.

“There we go. See… I dunno how you manage to be such a good girl when you’re a filthy fuckin’ slut.” His voice was low as he said the words with a smile. “Liked me fingering your cunt next to that pathetic excuse of a boyfriend, hm? Got all slippery and wet for me, let me touch you while you think no one’s looking…” A deep groan escaped his throat as he looked down at her face. Hazy eyes and eager mouth, slightly opened and wet from their kissing- he could help but think that in this moment, she was overwhelmingly his.

He tested the waters at the table, giving her every chance to stop it if she wanted, but the minx wanted it. Encouraged it, even, with spreading those soft thighs open a little more for his hand to slip against her weeping cunt. His cock had filled right then, knowing that she was choosing him over Danny at that moment. It was fucked up, sure, but he was fingering his girl right under his nose and she had followed him back here for more. He had no idea that Harry was so possessive of her, so enamored that it had scared him a bit.

Y/N only whined at his words, leaning up on her toes and buttoning their lips together once again. Harry’s overworking brain slowed as soon as he felt her wrap her arms around his shoulders, leaning up on her toes to get to him. It was his final straw.

He released her hair and took liberty to cup her ass under the skirt, lifting her up and spinning them around so his body shielded her own. Pressing her against the wall, he returned her kisses, moaning under his breath as her fingers tangled in his hair. In reality, he knew he should scold her for doing it without asking, without having instruction, but the bleeding bit of his heart wanted her to feel comfortable enough to just touch him. So, he didn’t do anything but press his covered cock against her cunt, rutting against her slowly to give them both some relief.

“I…” Y/N attempted to speak but her brain felt like it was in a cloud. Floating up higher away as his large hands held and squeezed her ass, the thin lace of her panties doing little to nothing to dull the feeling of his dick rubbing against her and nudging her swollen clit. “Fuck me. Fuck me here, H. Please.” Of course, she forgot the honorific but in this moment he didn’t care. He didn’t care about anything other than giving her what she wanted.

Keeping her pressed against the wall he used one hand to undo his belt, frantic to open his pants for her. He knew later he’d probably scold himself for being so impulsive, for abandoning his plans to use his first load in a proper scene but wasn’t this exploring too? Playing into her exhibitionism, a bit of degrading, he was helping her. Right?

Finally, with his shaky hands making it a bit clumsier than normal, he got himself out of his pants. “You sure? You really want it?” Double checking in this instance to give her a minute to back out, she nodded hard.

“Yes. Please- I’m not drunk, I didn’t drink, I just want… Please fuck me, I’ll make it up to you later, Sir.” She pleaded. Harry liked the sound of her begging, the whining tilt to her voice only making his cock throb in his hand.

“Shhh, baby. Sh.” He scolded. “I’ll give it to you. Know you’re gagging for it, but if someone hears it’ll make me have to stop. Need you to keep those pretty noises quiet for me.” As much as it pained him, it was also fucking hot. Y/N was letting him fuck her in the dark corner of a dingy hallway, so needy that she can’t wait to go home. His fingers made quick work of her panties, tugging them to the side. There was a slight ripping sound but he didn’t concern himself with that as he ran the head of his cock over her slick slit. “Jesus… you’re soaked for me.” The awe was audible in his voice. He’d done that. No one else. “Remember your colors.” He felt drunk himself, even after being sober the whole night. “S’gonna be a stretch but I think you can take it. If you’re enough of a whore t’let me fuck you with your little boyfriend just meters away, you can take a bit of burn.”

There was no other warning before his dick began to push into her. The girl mewled, head falling back onto the wall with a thump as she bit her lip to try to stop the louder noise from escaping. It was a stretch, but his words, his degrading before it had made her clit throb. Later on she would probably feel guilty, but that was tomorrow’s problem. Right now, she had the best dick in her life sinking into her and making her eyes water at how well he stretched her out, her nails digging into the back of his neck. “Oh my god.” She whispered, looking at the man in front of her.

He was beautiful. Even in the dim light where it was hard to tell real features, she could see his eyes on her own, see his jaw clenched as he sunk into her hole. Y/N had only taken his cock a few times and that was last week. The last orgasm she had was in the bathroom stall at the cafe, and it was safe to say she’d been obsessing over the man filling her all week long. Even if she got an orgasm out of the lunch, it had made her more desperate for him to well and truly fuck her. “It’s so much, Sir.” She gave a wobbly whisper as the last bit sunk into her, finally balls deep in her. What she’d been craving since sunday evening.

“I know it is, pet. But you’re a precious little slut, so I think you can take it.” He cooed softly, beginning to give short and shallow thrusts. “Your cunt is perfect. Y’know that? As filthy as it is… s’so fucking tight, swallowing me up. You’re quickly becoming my favorite set of holes.”

And.. Oh. Fuck, that hard her moaning. Y/N wanted to be his favorite. She wanted to make all the other submissives he’s had in the past pale in comparison. Maybe it wasn’t very girlboss of her, but she wanted him to prefer her mouth, her moans, her cunt, every bit of her like he’d been haunting her mind.

“Want to be that.” She whimpered, rocking her hips the best she could in the position. “You can, you can have any part of me.”

“I know I can, sweetheart. You’re my sweet little fucktoy, a pet for me to use.” He pulled out a bit more, feeling her slick walls try to tighten in protest. It was too good, and he had to be careful not to blow his load too early. “You don’t care about anything other than being fucked. I was gonna be real nice t’you, bring you home, play with that pretty ass… Got your plugs, was gonna train that little hole all weekend to make sure you could take my cock back there. But you’re a slut, got me hard and opened your legs for me right next to your boyfriend. What would he say, hm?” Lips brushed her ear as he fucked into her slowly, her head tilting up. “What would he say if he came back here and saw his sweet little girlfriend getting fucked raw? Desperate for it, too.” He grinned against her skin feeling a little drunk with power, knowing it was turning her on too. Her cunt was getting more and more wet around him, easing the slip he had to fuck her. “Hm? Tell me.”

“He’d… he’d be shocked sir.” She swallowed her moan, eyes fluttering shut as his lips pressed sloppy kisses over the expanse of her neck. Those perfect lips of his that she’d been thinking about all week. “Maybe mad. Cause he can’t…” There was a small debate in saying it, but they both knew it was the truth. Even said boyfriend himself knew it. “He can’t fuck me the way you can.”

Fuck, if that didn’t work Harry up, he didn’t know what would. It played into his praise kink, yes, but that dark seed of possessiveness, that unhinged part of his brain that considered Y/N his own really fucking loved hearing that. “Fuck.” He drawled out the word as he thrust all the way inside of her again, stealing her breath as it jostled her. “You’re right. He can’t.” Harry growled. “He doesn’t know how to use a pretty pussy like this. Can’t give you the nasty fuck a slut like you needs.” There was no use in denying it. Something had shifted, something more animalistic in nature as he wrapped a hand around her throat, kissing her hard as he began to truly fuck her.

Her cries were muffled with his lips while his prick fucked her open. The bite of her nails in his skin only added to his pleasure, the slight unhinged feeling breaking open as he fucked her like a doll. She was perfect, he thinks. Perfect in every fucking way. If that boyfriend was out of the way, he’d put a collar on her so fucking fast her head would spin. Not only was she getting trained to his exact wants, but she had the same interests. Played into his kinks, was so eager for him, for his cock and to learn. “Such a sweet girl… but if anyone comes back here… they’re gonna see what you really are.” He panted between thrusts, looking at her face as her brows furrowed and mouth opened in a soft ‘o’.

The girl looked fucked out, used, and that’s exactly what she wants. “Fooled me at first. Shocked me… when I found out you wanted someone to rough you up, play with you. But now you’re my willing and eager puppy.” He laughed in disbelief, listening to the soft sounds of her being fucked. Sweat beaded on his brow, his cock fucking into her willing and soft pussy over and over again. She just took it so well. Like she was made for him.

“I… I…” She stuttered before letting out a choked moan, hole fluttering around his cock as he got in deep and buried into her. Her clit rubbed against his torso making her gasp, nodding her head. “There. There, please, just like that. Like that, I’ll cum.” It was frantic, eyes widening as she pleaded with him. “Please let me cum, sir. I need it, I need to cum and I need your cum so bad. I’ll be so good all weekend, I promise, I just… I need it. Please, Please…” Her babbling was slightly embarrassing but it amused him.

“Poor baby needs to cum so quickly…” He crooned. “Fuck, you’re incredible. Sucha good little puppy, eager to please the man who owns your holes.” Taunting her was fun, but he knew this couldn’t be a long fuck. Someone would come looking, and as hot as it could be in his mind, he didn’t know if Y/N would be alright with that out of the sexual haze. “Go on. Show me how my pet cums on a cock. Give me your eyes- look at me while you cum.”

His pace stayed the same, his belly and groan wet with her arousal as he felt her breathing pick up again and the hole wrapped around him start to pulsate as she looked him in the eye as he watched her fall apart on him.

Y/N felt the rush of heat over her body as she began to tremble in his arms, holding tight onto him as her brain fell back into that place he always got her to. Teetering between this dimension and the next, she let out a sob as she came on his cock. He didn’t stop, though, fucking her through the orgasm and extending it as fingers lightly pressed against the sides of her throat, giving that headrush that made it more intense.

She was making a mess of him, but he didn’t seem able to hold back anymore. Making sure she was good, he kissed her lips and muttered softly. “Color, baby. Tell me a color.”

“Green, green, please.” The submissive felt hazed. “Want your cum. Want it when we- when we say goodbye-” She was letting out the dirty bit of her mind, something she’d been afraid to say in the past few minutes but had fully come to fruition now. And it seemed to set the dominant off.

“Oh, fuck me.” He growled, giving no second chance as soon as she said it. If she thought she was being fucked before, it was nothing compared to how he pounded into her now. Dropping her down a little bit, he released her throat and held both sides of her ass as he used her cunt. It was about his orgasm now, but she could feel another one rising. “You want my cum dripping down your thighs when you say goodbye? S’that what you were saying?”

He’d never sounded like this before but Y/N liked it, biting her tongue to keep from crying out as she nodded. It’s exactly what she meant.

“Nasty fuckin’ girl. God, m’obsessed with you.” it slipped without his permission but he didn’t realize it, feeling his cock fuck into the tight, sloppy cunt. One day he wanted to fuck multiple loads into her, watch it drip out, and she’d let him because she was perfect. So perfect that she said what they were both thinking. Let her say goodbye to her boyfriend with his cum trickling down her legs and her pussy still wet from the fresh fuck. “You’re gonna be a good little girl and say goodbye smelling like me, full of me. Gonna come home with me to get fucked the way you need to while he sits and watches sports drunk off his ass.” He said through clenched teeth. “Because you’re my perfect girl. Aren’t you? Sweetest little sub I’ve ever taken. M’gonna cum so soon but I can feel it…” She was too.

Y/N didn’t know what exactly about his words and the situation that made it so hot. Maybe it was because Harry truly cared about her, he took care of her, he was doing everything she needed and she felt increasingly disconnected from the man who had suggested this in the first place. He’d said he’d try but all he cared about was his beer and the game and his friends, barely sparing a look at her while Harry had given her all of his attention every single time she’d spoken to him.

Maybe Harry was just better.

It hit her hard and fast, a second orgasm washing over her as she clung to him and felt his fingers dig into the flesh of her ass. Maybe if she wasn’t so out of her mind from the perfect fuck that has her more aroused than she could imagine, it wouldn’t have slipped, but it did. “Daddy- Fuck, Daddy cum in me. Cum in me, cum in me, cum in-” Her moan was muffled by his neck as she buried her face in it, but it didn’t matter considering his groan was loud enough for the both of them to be caught if someone was around.

Harry hadn’t seen it coming, literally and metaphorically. Her sweet, melodic, fucked out voice calling him a different honorific, one he hadn’t realized would make him feel as crazy as it did, it ended him. Made him want to hear that little voice call him that when he pumped her full of his load every single time. His balls pulsed as he filled her growling under his breath as he pinned her to the wall further with his body, trying to get his prick into her damn tummy. It stole his own air, hearing her little cries with each short thrust as he fucked his cum deeper inside of her. “Fuck, there it is. Take every drop of Daddy’s cum, my sweet girl.” the dominant whispered, shifting her weight to one hand so he could pull her face from his neck and kiss her.

It was softer, but more passionate in a different way. Something had shifted since their time at the cafe and it was palpable. There was a difference in how he allowed himself to handle her. It wasn’t just like a submissive anymore. He cared far more than he was probably allowed but there was no way to stop it, even though he’d been trying. Thumbing over her cheek, the single tearstain wiped away as he pecked her lips over and over again. “S’my perfect girl. Eager pup.” He cooed, , nudging their noses. “Are you okay? Need anything from me, sweets?” The dominant headspace was still there but it was mixed with his normal one, doting on her but understanding they needed to get out of this hallway asap and go the fuck home. His cock was still twitching inside of her, giving her the last little bit of cum that he’d been saving all week for her.

“No, I’m okay.” She smiled, that dazed look on her face. “It just feels really good.” There was a little giggle that could’ve gotten him hard again, but it stopped when she sobered up. His heart kicked up in panic as he saw the shift in her face, but she beat him to it when he went to ask her why. “Oh, god. Harry, I- I’m sorry I called you that. I don’t know why, we haven’t discussed if that was okay or-”

“It’s very okay.” He assured, placing a finger over her mouth to stop her from talking. “Made me cum, if m’being honest. I liked it.” A kiss of reassurance was given to her, but he knew that it was partially selfish too. The man found himself craving her lips a lot more than he should, and considering he hadn’t gotten a kiss from her before their escapade back here, he was the greedy one now. “We can talk about it later but there’s nothing to be embarrassed about. Especially when it made me orgasm like that.” A lighthearted laugh followed. “But we do have t’go, sweetheart. I’m not done with you in the slightest.”

There was an unspoken agreement in the air as he pulled out of her, hissing at the cool air. He didn’t bother to do much cleaning as he shoved himself back inside his pants, annoyed it was dark in the area now so he couldn't see much of his cum besides some that made a slight glisten from the light down the hall. “There’s so much.” She whispered, standing on wobbly feet.

Y/N could feel it. Sticky and dribbling and spreading over her inner thighs, but it was a good feeling in this moment. Satisfying. Harry had quelled the ache he caused, and he did it perfectly. Her skirt was adjusted by the man, and she let him fuss over her because it felt good. His tender touches made her feel cared for, fingers brushing messy hair back and out of her face and thumb wiping around her mouth. “Messy girl.” He hummed, giving a smile she could make out in the dark corner they’d retreated to. “We’re gonna tell them you feel a bit ill and m’gonna drive you home since I’m leaving anyway. Alright?” Her chin was caught by his finger, curled under it as he stared at her. “Are you comfortable with that?”

Sure, they’d said so much during sex but he wasn’t about to force her into anything she didn’t want to do.

“Mhm. Jus’ wanna go home with you.” She nodded, feeling the excitement rise again in her tummy. It felt like a big ‘fuck you’ to her boyfriend who had ignored her the whole night.

“Alright, angel. Let’s go.” Resisting the urge to hold her hand, he settled on a touch on her lower back as they approached the table. He felt his cock’s weak twitch of interest as he saw her slight wobble in walking. He’d been the cause of that. “Hey, Y/N’s not feelin’ too hot and I was gonna head out so m’gonna take her with me.” He said easily as a few heads turned towards them. Danny’s was one of them, looking her over.

“Yeah, you look a little sick. Go on home, I’ll talk to you later.” He turned his head back to the TV and it took everything in Harry not to snap at him. Though when he turned to see Y/N with her bag in hand, she looked more annoyed than anything else. If she had been teary eyed, he wouldn’t have been able to hold his tongue.

Harry was still irritated though as he took Y/N’s bag for her, guiding her out of the place with a more solid hand on her back. Fuck it if people thought it was weird.

It only made him more happy she had said goodbye to him with evidence of their passion between her legs. He didn’t fucking deserve her, and Y/N deserved better.

Taking her hand, he helped her into the car and buckled her seatbelt for her. He didn’t have to, she was perfectly capable of doing it herself, but he wanted to do it for her. He liked taking care of her and making her feel appreciated because it was so clearly obvious she hasn’t been.

Part of him wanted to ask how long he’s behaved like this. If she only realized it wasn’t normal when she got into this arrangement with him, or if she’d been feeling it before, but it just didn’t seem like the right time to bring it up.

He knew it wasn’t right of him to get so deep, to allow his mind to wander as he drove them home with his hand on her knee and her fingers playing with his rings again. Thinking of what he should do, what it could be like if she was properly his and asking her if she really wanted to be with him after all of this. It was so difficult to work through in his brain, so many gray areas and blurred lines that seemed hard to even see the shape of anymore.

The intention had been to show her the ropes, but she was the one wrapping them around his heart and tying him up. Tethering him to her. If he was a smarter man, a less selfish one, he’d tell her they couldn’t do this anymore. He’d take her home and sit her down to explain they needed a line of separation. But he wasn’t going to do that. Selfishly and hopefully, he’d take all he could get from her and show her how she should be treated, how he’d treat her if she left the other man and let herself truly belong to him. Give her a taste of the full thing. Harry could be good for her, even if he was kind of convinced she was too good for anyone else.

“You okay?” Y/N’s voice broke him out of his thoughts, making his head turn to her with a gentler expression. She looked concerned and fuck if that didn’t do him in. The girl cared for him, but he needed to see how much. “Mhm. M’fine, sweetheart. Just thinking.” Bringing her hand up to his mouth, his heart thudding in his chest at the casual intimacy, he placed a feather light kiss on her knuckles. One by one, he was letting another piece of the line they were supposed to have clearly defined blur into obscurity.

#jarofstyles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles one shot #harry styles fanfic #harry styles smut #harry writing #harry styles imagine #harry drabble #harry styles blurb #harry styles writing #harry styles au #harry styles fanfictions

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charliemwrites · 5 months

Text

Bark bark bark awoooo

No content warnings

You’re gonna fucking combust.

Somehow, someway, this is Johnny’s fault. You’re not sure how yet, so he it isn’t fair for him to be in trouble, but you know it.

“This is your fault,” you tell him, pouting in bed — bare ass naked, but that means nothing to him, he’s a dog. He cocks his head, and you wave your (broken) vibrator at him. “I don’t know how, but it is. Is this because I wanna chop your balls off?”

His mouth closes, eyes big - like he actually understands you. In your horny delirium, you almost believe he really does.

You flop onto your back with a sigh, eyes a little wet with frustration.

It’s been two months since you last successfully got off. Your vibrator (and its replacement… and its replacement’s replacement) keep breaking, or running out of battery. The plug is defective or falls out of the socket.

Once you successfully got right to the edge - just for it to die. You almost did cry that time.

Sure, there’s your hand. But every time you try ol’ reliable a certain four-legged roommate interrupts one way or another. And when you tried to kick him out of the room, and then ignored the howling, scratching, and general drama - there was loud and rapid knocking at your door.

Like fucking clockwork. If you get anywhere at all, you never get to finish.

It wouldn’t be so bad, either. Your libido isn’t anything crazy, you don’t think. At least it wasn’t before. But now there’s Soap.

Soap who you should not be so attracted to. Who has no sense of propriety or boundaries, who murmurs the dirtiest things to you in the most public and otherwise mundane places. And he just keeps. Showing. Up.

Like he’s got a tracker on you or something. (You’ve checked, he doesn’t.)

He’s like every guilty fantasy you had as a good, studious girl back in high school. The kind of guy to grab your thigh under your parents’ dinner table and take your virginity in the back of his car. Maybe corner you by the lockers between classes to kiss you silly and drive up your absence record.

You never actually went for those boys — and perhaps gratefully, they never went for you. In romance novels, it would be a quaint little coming of age story. The stuff to swoon over. But reality was a lot scarier for you, especially with your older sister always keeping an ear out to report back to your parents and… well, yeah.

You’ve always been a firm introvert, anyway. That’s why you live out in the woods with only a dog for regular company.

But Soap. Soap is some unholy amalgamation of those innocent, shy girl fantasies turned R-rated. Like the grown-up version of those cute YA novels.

And you have no defense for it — except distrust, that is.

Soft-hearted as you are, you know you don’t do casual well. And you know that guys like Soap just like to spin you up and up until you finally give in, think the dreaded words “maybe it’ll work out” despite that rational voice in your head saying, “don’t bet on it.”

Doesn’t stop you from secretly wanting him though.

Fear is the only thing keeping you in check now. Some of it for you own feelings; of getting invested in a guy that has done nothing but treat you like a prime cut of meat. The rest of it is a genuine concern that he might be a bit dangerous. He’s so much bigger than you, visibly stronger. Has gone out of his way to make you uncomfortable (doesn’t matter that a very dark and slutty part of you liked it) and ignored your attempts at brushing him off.

Fear, unfortunately, is beginning to add to the temptation.

“I’m not going to do it,” you tell yourself, or maybe Johnny. Soap’s contact is on the screen. You don’t remember putting it into your phone, but you must have at some point. “Nope. No way.”

You slide a sideways look at Johnny, tail wagging at a steady clip.

“He’s probably a former frat boy or something, right?” you muse.

Snort.

“No, you don’t think so?” you question, sitting up. He happily crawls into your lap when you pat your thighs, chin resting on your tummy. “Nah, you’re right. Could almost imagine him beating the hell out of one for pissing him off.”

A little grumbly noise. You smile and start petting absently over his head and ears, phone forgotten now.

“This is dumb anyway,” you sigh, head tilted back to the ceiling. “You don’t like men. I couldn’t bring him back here.”

Johnny’s ears flick. You giggle and start flopping them around, making airplane noises. Eventually he huffs and starts licking at your face until you stop, complaining that you’ll need to wash off now.

—

“Fuck it.”

Johnny picks his head up, staring at you as you run a hand down your face.

“Fuck it all. I’m going to a bar. I’m getting… I dunno. Laid or something.” Thank god it’s only Johnny here. You don’t think you could live with the embarrassment of someone else hearing the way you talk.

You set your hands on your hips, nod to yourself.

“And if it happens to be Soap, then… sign from the universe, right?” You grimace a bit, striding for your bedroom. “Please don’t let him be a murderer or something…”

For once, Johnny is perfectly behaved as you get ready. He doesn’t try to lick at you when you come out of shower (freshly shaved and lotioned and everything). Sits patiently on the bed as you pick through your closet, even noses at a pretty pink dress you rarely wear but were considering for this.

He doesn’t try to bump your arms or hands while you do your makeup, just watches attentively. You choose a pretty, matching bra-panty set, apply a light spritz of perfume. Hesitate over jewelry.

“Is it normal to wear jewelry when you plan on fucking?” you wander allowed.

A little “boof” from the bed. You’ll take that as a yes.

You decide on a set of faux pearls with a gold heart pendant in the center. Not quite a choker, but high enough on your throat to suggest one. A delicate bracelet, a pair of stud earrings, and you’re just about set.

“Christ, I hate doing this alone,” you mutter, fumbling with the zip on the back of the dress.

Lastly, the shoes.

“Fuck it,” you say again. Your mantra for the evening, apparently. Wobble into a pair of heels, a bow on the outside of each ankle where you buckle them.

You pause when you’re done, giving yourself a once over in the full length mirror. Pleased with what you see. Coquettish and pretty, not necessarily bombshell sexy maybe, at least not on first glance. But the necklace, the heels, the cutouts at the waist of your dress… it’s all exactly what you wanted.

“Alright,” you breathe, tummy swooping with excitement. “I can do this… right?”

Johnny’s gotten down off the bed, is keeping a respectful distance. You appreciate it, don’t want to have to lint roll hair off yourself.

“Oh, god. What if he’s bad?” You ask, giving him a horrified look. “What if he’s been, like, compensating?”

To your shock, he stomps his paw and starts damn near howling. Carrying on and on like he’s bitching you out. You blink in shock, almost laugh — then check the time.

“Oh! Don’t worry, baby. I won’t let you starve!”

You toddle off to the kitchen and prep his dinner, scrunching your nose at the raw chicken and beef liver. He grumbles and fusses the whole way, making you laugh as you pretend to have a whole conversation about the economy with him.

“Okay, bonnie Johnny,” you coo, setting his bowl down. “Be good, okay? If I bring someone back here please don’t eat them, okay?”

More grumbles and whines and growls. You roll your eyes, blow him a kiss, and slip out the door.

You tell yourself you just need action with someone. Don’t admit to yourself that there’s really a specific someone you’re hoping to see.

#cod #my writing #fanfiction #dark fic #reader fic #woof woof johnny #woof woof au

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