#3 months after quitting smoking

[honexjams]

i rlly didnt go to the dentist not once in the almost 6 years i was a smoker like i knew i was gonna get a bad grade in dentist so i just didnt go

[spatialwave]

stress relief.

➸ ask: “Heyy <33 | have a req for a jayvik fic, the reader has noticed they've been quite stressed lately and recommends a form of Relaxing they do (Basically just getting high) and convinces both Jayce and Viktor to take part in it.. Can be fluff or smut??” ➸ pairing: jayvik x fem!reader ➸ tags: mdni! drug use, nsfw, smut, pwp, poly sex, double penetration, vaginal fingering, vaginal sex, jayvik established relationship, modern au, viktor wears a prosthetic leg, no use of y/n. ➸ word count: 6.3k ➸ a/n: i only realized when writing this, that i don’t have a ton of jayvik x reader fics like i thought i did! so, here’s to more!! hehe <3

Your fingers moved skillfully over a typewriter, a vintage one, which you often pointed out to anyone who admired it. Did it often cause you more hassle than writing on your computer? Of course, it did, but the nostalgic sounds of clicking and the aesthetic had become a part of your routine, even if it meant struggling with it or groaning when you had to pull out the paper to correct your mistakes with whiteout and place it right where you left off. A tedious task for a small mistake, but one that you struggled with no less.

The sounds of your constant typing reminded Jayce and Viktor of your pursuit of passion, sharing your poetry and fiction works with the world. This was a creative field of work, as opposed to theirs, which left them strained and sore after a day’s work.

It’s not that they ever compared the two in terms of struggles, but you were able to indulge in a stress-free environment more often than they could. A luxury in their eyes, but all you had done was master the art of stress relief.

In the form of smoking so much weed that you were able to melt into the couch after a day of writing that left your brain foggy, or sometimes even smoking before work to resurge enough creative energy to finish a chapter. You were nearly done with your first fiction novel since graduation, and your roommates, Jayce and Viktor, were lagging behind in their own professional efforts.

You met them both in college; you were in your second year, and they were in their fourth year of mechanical engineering and far from being done with their post-secondary education. It was the luck of the draw, or so Jayce called it when you stumbled into them while hurrying between classes and accidentally knocking their first prosthetic arm prototype to the ground where the pieces scattered.

Never in your life had you ever felt so bad, quickly dropping to your knees and helping them gather the pieces of their hard work, apologizing every second while the two men told you it would be okay. Or, at least, Jayce was telling you it would be okay.

You still think fondly back on Viktor's look. His eyes narrowed as he stared at you, watching you and Jayce scramble to grab everything before the rush of students stampeded over them into non-existence.

It took one apology and a smile to win over Jayce’s heart and a few days of getting to know Viktor—and a few drinks—to win his. Though, you had been oblivious to the deeper feelings that blossomed in their heart.

Why would you think otherwise? They were the two in the relationship.

It was by your fourth year and their sixth that the three of you ended up in the same apartment together, the rent cheap enough split three ways that you’d all be fools to let the opportunity go to waste. You learned quickly that living with two men, let alone engineers and inventors, was going to be a lot. It took a few long months to get used to, but by the time you resigned your first year’s lease and you were freshly graduated, you could be blindfolded and walk over their disassembled creations without as much disturbing their work.

You were thankful that they were able to find a laboratory on campus, but it left your apartment quiet most days and well into the night. The sounds of their bickering had become the soundtrack to your life; instead, the sounds of your fingers against the typewriter echoed through the otherwise empty apartment.

The only other sounds were the distant television you hadn’t bothered to turn off and your senior cat's purring, which lay atop your bed. 

You hummed a quiet melody, a song that you couldn’t name that Jayce had been playing on his phone earlier that morning when he was cooking breakfast. Waking up just in time so you could sneak it and ask him to triple the servings for you and Viktor.

The rattling of the apartment door startled you from your daze, not having realized that you’d been staring at the same sentence over and over for the past five minutes. Your eyes flickered to your phone, a finger tapping the screen to check the time and only then realizing you’d been writing for the past four hours without a break. The moon was high in the sky, and the birds would be chirping in only a few more hours.

Slowly, you got up from your desk, arms stretched above your head and groaning as your stationary position caught up to you, leaving you sore and desperate for a smoke before the night got ahead of you.

“Jesus,” you said as you stepped out of your room, pulling down the sleeves of your sweater over your hands absently as you watched Jayce and Viktor kick off their shoes at the front door. They were so exhausted that they looked like they might fall asleep standing if they didn’t hurry. “This is the fourth night in a row; you guys are digging early graves at how little sleep you’re getting.”

“Maybe that’s why we’re doing it,” Viktor mumbled, struggling with removing the shoe from his prosthetic leg, which Jayce quickly dropped to his knees to help him with.”

“Don’t blame you, all that work and still no grant. Yikes.” You returned with a playful flicker in your eyes, smiling as Viktor rolled his eyes at you. Jayce frowned as he rose back to his feet. “Kidding, guys. It’s called a joke; don’t give me those looks.”

“Yeah, yeah,” the taller man mumbled, scratching at his stubbled jaw as he walked into the apartment, passing you and groaning as he b-lined for the living room so he could collapse onto the couch. Viktor was close behind, leaning on his cane as he walked, but you weren’t far behind.

“Bad day?” You asked sheepishly, regret forming a knot in your stomach when you noticed how stressed they were, both sitting on the couch.

“Bad week,” Viktor corrected as he leaned forward, rolling his pant leg up to reveal the well-worn prosthetic that needed an upgrade. They’d been so focused on their work that he hadn’t bothered to worry about his own needs, knowing that once this project ended, he’d be able to call the final prototype his own. A leg that would finally implant into his limb so he wouldn’t have to deal with the pain of the ill-fitting prosthetics any longer.

You watched as he struggled for a minute, and before Jayce could offer, you were on the floor in front of him, hands already reaching for his leg. Carefully pulling the prosthetic down his thigh until it came clean off, he sighed in relief. This was a common routine that you helped with when Jayce was otherwise busy. Or falling asleep on the couch.

“Thanks,” he murmured, shifting as you put aside the leg carefully.

You returned to the armchair next to the couch, eyes looking between both men who had seen better days. The bags were so heavy beneath their eyes that you feared it would take days for them to finally catch up on their sleep—then an idea sparked.

“You two need a better nightly routine, something to help you decompress from the day instead of passing out in exhaustion the minute you get home,” you said, offering the opportunity for a suggestion.

Jayce glanced at you, raising a curious eyebrow. Viktor was the first to speak, “That doesn’t sound like a healthy habit to you? What a shame. I thought we were the epitome of self-care.”

“Let her speak,” Jayce nudged him with an elbow, eventually leaning against his boyfriend until his face was nearly buried against his neck. “You have anything in mind? I’ll be honest. Sleep sounds like the only good idea.”

“Smoke with me.”

Jayce perked up, peering out from the comfort of Viktor’s warmth as he stared at you with uncertainty, “Like… weed? I don’t know. I haven’t done that since I was a freshman, and let me tell you, it wasn’t a good experience.”

“No one told you to smoke that much, Jayce,” Viktor chided, having been there to witness it firsthand. His amber eyes flickered to you, shining in interest, “I suppose it doesn’t sound like a horrible idea.”

“Because it’s a great idea.” You beamed, sitting up and leaning forward to pet your cat that had made her way into the living room, taking her rounds to each person to receive her nightly pets before nestling away on her cat tree.

Viktor glanced at Jayce, “You don’t have to if you don’t want to, love.”

You watched as the two of them spoke softly to each other, a small smile on your lips at the affection they carried for each other. Even on their worst days, they loved each other with all they had. You hoped for a love like theirs someday.

“Fine,” Jayce huffed, pulling away from Viktor and running a quick hand over his face, “At this point, I’ll do anything to get my mind off of work. I think I’m going crazy,” he snorted a weak laugh, eyes flickering over to as you bounced up from your chair and hurried off to your room to roll.

You returned just as Viktor pulled a sweater over his thin frame, hanging over the sleep shorts he now wore. Jayce had just slipped into some sweats after his quick trip to their bedroom to rid themselves of their day clothes. Two sets of eyes watched as you sat back down, a joint held between your fingers that you showed off like a prized possession.

“Ta-da!” You exclaimed, “As simple as a few puffs, all your worries will melt away. It’s old reliable for me, especially after a long day. Makes for the best sleep of your life.”

Viktor was watching you carefully as you spoke, unsure if it was the exhaustion or lingering feelings that left him admiring you. His hand on Jayce’s thigh dug into the cotton fabric of his sweats, going unnoticed because Jayce was staring at you with the same look. Admiration, awe—affection.

Glancing around, your eyes landed on the balcony where you often spent your evenings with a joint and your cellphone, doom scrolling through social media until you were ready to sleep. You crinkled your nose, looking at the boys, “We need to go outside, or else the apartment will smell like—”

“I don’t care,” Viktor said, gaze flickering to Jayce, “do you care?”

Jayce didn’t answer. Instead, his eyes focused on the joint in your hand, and he was more than ready to say fuck it and let things go how they needed to go.

“No complaining tomorrow when we have to air out the apartment,” you smiled. You’d never been able to smoke in the comfort of your own home before, so this was a treat. Even better than you had been able to wrangle your favourite boys into the mix, too.

Once lit, the joint was passed around the circle three times. Viktor handled it well, having been an off-and-on cigarette smoker throughout the years, usually when his stress levels peaked. Now, it was only when he had enough alcohol in his system. Jayce coughed up a lung each time, and it was the most endearing thing you’d ever witnessed. 

Even if it was rather unpleasant for him at first.

You finished the rest, an experienced smoker, so it was almost like nothing to you. The lingering effects of the high made you sink into the armchair, but not before you grabbed everyone some emergency water and snacks, if you could even stay awake.

Fifteen minutes passed, and everyone’s attention was focused on the TV as the shared high began to climb. Viktor was feeling great. His mind was emptied, and the usual pain in his leg after a day of wearing the prosthetic was gone, leaving his body relaxed and eager to sleep long enough to hit double digits.

You glanced at Jayce, seeing the way he sunk into the couch, legs spread wide apart and a lopsided smile on his lips as he watched the trashy reality show play out. You were almost certain you’d never seen them look so damned relaxed, at least since you lived with them.

Jayce caught your stare, head tilting slowly until his gaze met yours, and you felt your heart skip a beat for a brief moment. It had been a long time since you shared a high with anyone, let alone your best friends, so the emotions and feelings coursing through you were new. You couldn’t ignore his half-lidded eyes, staring even as he made room between him and Viktor.

“You look lonely,” Jayce said, a chuckle erupting from his throat, “Come on. When’s the last time you cuddled with us?”

Viktor sighed heavily through his nose, everything around him feeling slow as he watched you slink over hesitantly. He looked at Jayce, smiling, “You say that so confidently; you know she never has before.”

You plopped down on the couch between them, and immediately, your senses were filled in the best way possible. Jayce’s body to your left warmed your body, and you could smell the faint cologne that Viktor used every morning. The scent lingered on his skin.

“That’s not true,” you hummed, looking to the television as you crossed your legs and relaxed back, “Last year when we went to that gala for the university, I got hammered, and somehow I woke up sandwiched between you two in my bed.”

Jayce laughed, a loud laugh that hadn’t warranted that reaction from your words, but everything was funny to him. He could get used to the feeling.

“Ah, right,” Viktor looked at you, smirking, “That was Jayce’s doing, just so you know. He was worried you would get sick, so he wanted to stay with you and begged me to stay.”

“I didn’t beg,” he said through his laughter, “You gave in very easily and enjoyed it. Don’t lie.”

“I did not,” Viktor argued, pale cheeks turning a soft pink. You looked between the two of them as they bickered, a big smile on your face. However, the implications of their words settled into your stomach, and you forced yourself to look back to the TV before you could let your mind wander where it didn’t need to.

There was no need to let yourself build up a desire, knowing very well that it wouldn’t come true.

“Yeah, you did,” Jayce turned to face you both better, easily throwing his right leg over both of your laps, and you were quick to rest a hand over the clothed limb. The touch sent a shiver up his spine and a heat in the pit of his stomach that he hadn’t expected, and he hoped you hadn’t noticed because Viktor certainly had.

“Hardly,” Viktor hummed, unable to feel an ounce of annoyance when his heart began pounding in his chest when he saw how Jayce reacted to your touch. How those hazel eyes were glued to your face, and all of the discussions they’ve shared in the past about you came to the surface.

“Stop arguing,” you whined, pointing to the television, “You are missing the best part of the show. They’re about to answer the ultimatums, and let me tell you that whatever you had in mind is never what happens.”

You were received by silence, and you quickly looked between the two men again, blinking a few times in quick succession as you saw the way they both stared at you. You felt a chill crawl up your spine and absently dug your fingers into the fabric covering Jayce’s leg. Sinking back into the couch, you attempted to force yourself to relax and not overthink it, but it was hard when you could see them sharing looks.

“You know, when you get high, you usually just laugh at crappy television and snack on whatever you have until you fall asleep,” you mumbled, your cheeks burning.

“Mmh,” Viktor hummed, “Where are our manners?” He teased, and his voice sent goosebumps along your skin. He nestled himself against you as he spoke, his cheek resting on your shoulder as he focused on the television. Meanwhile, Jayce leaned back against the nook between the arm and the back of the sofa, his arm extending behind you as his fingers ‘absently’ played with the ends of your hair.

You were on high alert, which was surprising for how much you smoked, but you could sense something was happening. You were just trying to convince yourself that it wasn’t what you were imagining in your head, but the way Jayce brushed his fingers through your hair and how Viktor’s left hand rested over your bare thigh left you wondering if you were dreaming again.

Viktor’s fingers brushed between your thighs, a daring touch that reminded you that this was no dream, and in this reality, the two men were certainly coming onto you.

A laugh bubbled up from you, one that you weren’t able to hold down. Your hands flew to your face, which had begun to burn a bright red, and you avoided their curious looks.

“You guys are being horribly obvious. I hope you know that.” You mumbled behind your hands, refusing to move them.

Viktor chuckled, the sound rumbling deep in his chest, “Or maybe it takes you being high to finally notice.”

You turned your head to look at Viktor between parted fingers, “What do you mean by that?”

Jayce spoke up from the other side of you, smiling rather shyly as you looked over at him, “You’re… pretty clueless, you know that? It’s cute.”

You swore you could hear your heart slamming against your ribs, the feeling overwhelming as you stared up at Jayce and felt your stomach twist in uncomfortable knots. Your eyes flickered back to Viktor, noting the confident smile on his lips as he reached out and tucked some of your hair behind your ear.

“How does it make you feel?” Viktor asked quietly, his reddened eyes scanning your face, “Knowing how we feel about you.”

“Well,” you murmured, licking your lips as you inhaled a shaky breath, “I suppose I don’t exactly know how you feel about me… it’s difficult to answer without knowing.”

Jayce shifted beside you, his leg moving from your laps so he could instead guide you until you were rested back against his chest, his body still turned completely towards you and Viktor. You nestled back into him, sighing at how his body felt so nice and warm like it was enveloping you.

Meanwhile, Viktor shifted and leaned towards you, smiling as he nuzzled himself into you and pulled his leg onto the couch that perfectly fit you three. He buried his face against your clothed chest, peering up just enough to meet your gaze.

“Would you like us to show you?” he asked his eager hand dipping beneath your sweater, thin fingers brushing against the skin of your stomach. You didn’t care if the weed was allowing them to better act on their instincts. All you knew was that the four hands beginning to grasp at your body was enough to make you say—

“God, yes,” you breathed, the sound catching in your throat.

Jayce was quick to act on your consent. From behind his lips attached to the side of your neck, he left gentle kisses that earned you a shiver. Meanwhile, Viktor leaned himself between your spread legs. His eyes were half-lidded and glossy as he stared at you with a knowing smile.

You didn’t have time to question him for staring because he swallowed the words on the tip of your tongue as he pressed your lips together in a bruising kiss. Your lips parted with a gasp, and he took advantage of the opening, his tongue delving into your mouth and tasting the red licorice flavour from the sweets you had indulged. He moaned into your mouth, hands on your hips underneath your sweater and grasping over your flesh, rougher touches compared to the fluttering kisses from the man behind you.

The stubble on Jayce’s jaw tickled your skin as he nibbled on the shell of your ear, his heavy breaths cascading your neck with warmth.

“How excited are you?” He whispered into your ear, a squeak muffling into Viktor’s eager mouth as a hand slipped between your bodies and pushed into your shorts. Thick fingers pushed past the fabric of your panties, easily spreading through your wet folds. “Fuck,” Jayce huffed, swallowing thickly as he circled your needy clit with short circles.

“I told you she’d like it,” Viktor mumbled against you, pulling back as a string of saliva connected your lips. He grinned, lifting a hand and brushing his thumb against your swollen bottom lip, “You like it, don’t you?”

Your body was on fire, Jayce’s fingers toying with your cunt, earning a few whimpers that you tried to muffle, but to no avail. Half-lidded eyes stared at Viktor as you nodded, watching as he leaned back and looked down between your legs underneath the fabric. He could see his boyfriend’s fingers working through your folds, the slick sound loud enough to reach his ears.

Nimble fingers grabbed at your shorts and underwear, yanking them down your thighs until they slipped past your ankles and were discarded to the floor.

Viktor’s eyes sparkled as he watched, licking his lips as Jayce used two fingers to spread you open.

“She’s dripping,” Jayce murmured, the sound of his voice easing your nerves as you relaxed against him, fingers grabbing at his thighs. You closed your eyes, unable to look at Viktor in your flustered state.

“I can see that,” Viktor purred, his fingers toying at your entrance that Jayce had opened for him. You whined as he pushed in a finger, a second one joining much too easily, “So good. Taking my fingers so easily. I bet you’ve dreamt of this, haven’t you?”

Your back arched at his touch, Jayce’s index finger returning to your clit, a ministration that made your hips shake in tandem with Viktor’s fingers thrusting in and out of you. Your mind was hazy, and you couldn’t think straight, eyes fluttering as you fucked yourself along his two fingers that pumped so deep you were beginning to babble out their names incoherently. 

Viktor curved his fingers, pushing on the fleshy pad of muscle inside your pussy that coaxed out a strangled cry from your lips. He didn’t relent, the two men wanting to hear more from you as they worked together. They couldn’t concentrate on anything, fixated on the way your cunt tightened around Viktor’s fingers and how your nails dug into Jayce’s thighs as your climax neared.

“Fuck,” you whimpered, a gasp escaping between parted lips. You attempted to push your thighs together, but Jayce was quick and held your thighs apart.

“Be a good girl,” he breathed into your ear.

Viktor’s free hand moved so he could rub quick circles over your swollen clit, fingers still pumping in and out of you at a relentless pace. Your eyes cracked open, hips twitching violently as heat spread down your thighs and up your abdomen. You locked a gaze with Viktor, and your heart lept into your throat at the way he stared at you—animalistic. Hungry.

“Come for me,” he whispered, fingers curling as he did his best to bring you to your release.

It worked well, especially with Jayce’s lips pressing heady open-mouthed kisses to your neck, hands grabbing at your thighs and keeping you nicely spread.

“Oh my god,” you cried, thighs tensing and toes curling as your orgasm hit you hard. You clenched impossibly tight around Viktor’s fingers, hips stuttering as heavy breaths and moans fell from your lips. Viktor kept fucking you with his fingers, a slower pace to meet with your release until you were spent.

Your hands moved to your face, covering your cheeks that were red from embarrassment. You were still twitching, sensitive from their synchronized touches, and you didn’t dare look at either of them.

Jayce smiled, pressing a chaste kiss at your temple, “That was so hot.”

Viktor chuckled, fingers leaving your cunt, and you whined at the emptiness. He noted the reaction, his gut hot and cock twitching under his shorts.

“Show us your pretty face,” he chided you, voice soft as he grabbed at your wrists. He tugged your hands away from your face, smiling at the way you pouted at him, “Since when are you shy?”

“Since my roommates in a relationship decided they’d rather fuck me instead of sleeping,” you mumbled, shifting and feeling a familiar hardness on your lower back. Jayce grunted, his tanned cheeks red as he twitched, the slight friction on his erection making him eager to make your statement come true.

“We haven’t fucked you yet, though,” Viktor hummed, smirking as he lifted his fingers to his mouth, wet with your juices. He licked them clean and sighed, “Do you want us to?”

You answered quickly, a prominent yes. Within minutes, the three of you had made it to their bedroom, rather clumsy in your efforts. Your back fell against the bedsheets that had been tucked into the mattress so neatly, and your clothes were ripped from your body almost instantaneously.

Viktor was leaning back against the pillows, centred almost perfectly in the middle of the bed, and you were on your knees in front of him. Eyes heavy as you tugged down his shorts and briefs while he tossed his sweaters aside. Jayce settled behind you, also on his knees, and he towered over your smaller frame.

Golden eyes watched you both in awe as you felt Jayce’s bare muscled chest pressed against your back and his cock pushing between your thighs—grazing against your still-wet cunt. You could feel how big he was, and as you stared down at Viktor, you noted his, too.

You didn’t want to think about it, wondering how you would take them. You weren’t much of a go-getter in terms of sex, usually relying on your toys late at night when you needed some relief.

“You’re nervous,” Jayce murmured, calloused hands running up and down your sides. They settled over your breasts, feeling the heaviness of them in his hands as he pinched at your nipples until you gasped. 

“A little,” you answered quietly, swallowing down the nervous lump in your throat. You leaned to the side enough that you could tilt your head and meet Jayce’s eyes from behind you. His eyes carried a gentle look, different than the fiery gaze from Viktor.

Jayce smiled, ducking his head closer until his lips brushed against yours, “Don’t be. There’s no reason.”

Your eyes fell closed as you eagerly accepted his kiss, whimpering into his mouth as he tasted you carefully. His tongue pushed past your lips, and you opened yours, tongues dancing together effortlessly. He moaned into you, arms wrapping over your waist as you shared a passionate kiss with a bit too much tongue, but gods, you didn’t care.

Especially when you knew Viktor was staring, leaning back and smirking. Cock twitching and pre-cum beading along the tip as he began to stroke himself.

“You’re so beautiful,” Jayce whispered, pulling from your lips and staring into your eyes as your stomach twisted. You hadn’t heard that in a while. “I want to fuck that pretty face of yours.”

And they both did.

Both of them leaned back against the headboard, eyes fluttering as you sucked them both off. Working your mouth along their cocks one at a time, your hand stroking the one your throat neglected.

“Ah,” Viktor whimpered, a hand tight in your hair as he guided you along his cock, amber eyes heavy as you looked up at him, “Fuck, you’re good at this.”

The praises kept you going; it was like a rush of confidence. You took them both deeper than you thought was possible, their cocks fucking your throat until you had to pull back, gasping for air. You could feel how close they both were, and when Jayce roughly tugged your hair back with a growl deep from his chest, you knew you were good enough to be fucked by them. 

Finally.

What you hadn’t expected was how.

The three of you were on the bed, with you sandwiched between them and your back pressed against Jayce’s chest. You looked up at Viktor, your leg hooked around his hips and breathing heavily, unsure where this was going but knowing that you’d do anything. You’d take anything; you needed them.

As Jayce kissed over your bare shoulders, Viktor moved closer, hand at the base of his cock so he could direct it to your entrance. You whined when the tip pushed inside, teasing. 

“Viktor,” you breathed, your hands reaching out to grab at his waist so you could tug him closer, “fuck me. I need you, please.”

He chuckled, the sound rumbling in his chest, “Mmh, you’ve been so good. How could I say no to that pretty face of yours?” He murmured, closing the distance between your lips so he could pull you into a searing kiss. 

He pushed inside you with one quick thrust, reaching the hilt as you choked on your breath, the sound captured by his lips. “Ah, fuck,” you croaked, your cunt stretching from his length. You whimpered into his mouth, licking inside until your tongues slid together, and he gave you time to adjust to his size.

Jayce reached around you, the familiar feeling of his finger on your clit easing you. The pain of being stretched, a remnant of the past, as you pulled from Viktor’s lips, “Keep going.”

He obeyed quickly, panting as he shifted so he could fuck you, pulling out half-way and pushing back in. Careful movements until he knew you could take it, quickening to a hard pace that had you moaning out his name.

You reached back behind you, looking over your shoulder at Jayce as your hand wrapped around his cock, stroking him. You thumbed at the tip, the pre-cum coating his cock as you pumped him in repetition with Viktor’s thrusts. He huffed at the feeling, his forehead pressed against your shoulder blade as the heat in his abdomen tightened.

“Your pussy feels so good,” Viktor’s voice pulled you down from the clouds, a quiet mewl bubbling up from your throat at the praise, “You’re being so good. Taking me so good… can you take us both?”

Both you and Jayce stilled, tensing at the prospect. Jayce’s cock twitched in your hand, and you stared at Viktor wide-eyed, heart slamming against your chest. 

“Both?” You whispered, thankful when Viktor slowed his movements, “I… I don’t know. Maybe.”

“You don’t have to,” Jayce murmured into your ear, his breath heavy from your hand that had nearly stroked him to completion, “It’s okay if it’s a no.”

Viktor hummed in agreement, leaning forward and ducking to press his lips against your jaw, gentle kisses. You closed your eyes, lips parting as quiet sounds of pleasure came from you. The idea of it made your cunt clench around Viktor’s cock, both of them inside you at once.

Stretched impossibly thin. 

“Yes,” you whispered, eyes fluttering open to look into Viktor’s gold orbs, “I want you both. Fuck, I think I need it.”

Jayce grinned against your ear, your hand eagerly guiding his cock to your already-filled entrance. “Easy now, love.” He said, the pet name making your heart flutter, “One step at a time. I don’t want to hurt you.

Viktor began to slowly push himself in and out of you, slow movements so pleasure filled your senses before you’d be stretched beyond your comfort levels. You squirmed when you felt Jayce’s cock prod at your entrance.

“Let me fuck her,” Jayce mumbled, talking to Viktor, who reluctantly pulled himself out. Your cunt was empty for all of a second before another cock pushed inside you. Stretching you more than Viktor had, but not as long. Gods, you had no idea how you’d make this work.

You leaned forward against Viktor, whimpering as Jayce’s hand grabbed at your hip, digging into your flesh as he fucked you enough to wet his cock.

“You ready? Viktor asked you, his hand caressing your cheek so you were forced to look into his eyes. You nodded, your stomach twisting.

Your eyes closed, and you did your best to relax your body. Your body leaned back against Jayce now as Viktor had to shift his body and position himself until his cock was pushing at your entrance, unsure if this would work.

Then you cried out loudly, choking on a strangled gasp when the head of his cock pushed inside, and your cunt stretched wide to fit him. Jayce was quick to act on your pain, a finger on your clit and lips at your ear, kissing and whispering soft praises in your ear. Anything to calm you, and it worked.

“Shit,” Viktor hissed under his breath, his gaze focused down between your legs, watching as his cock penetrated you and joined Jayce’s inside your tight cunt. You were so wet that it was easy to slide right in, but he was careful and slow, eyes glancing at your face every so often to gauge your reactions.

You clawed at his shoulders, nails digging into his skin and only realized you had been holding your breath until you felt him fit inside you fully. Your eyes fluttered open, looking at Viktor with eyes full of unshed tears.

“Fuck me,” you whimpered, nearly begging. The fullness between your legs was more than you could imagine, but the pleasure was beginning to outweigh the discomfort. 

Viktor dove forward, his lips crashing to yours as Jayce moved first. He pulled his hips back, his cock moving out of you slowly and rubbing against Viktor’s, a whine from your lips swallowed down by Viktor’s tongue. As Jayce pushed back in, Viktor pulled out—an electric rhythm that made your head spin.

Both men groaned, breathing heavily as they fucked you slowly. Jayce’s forehead, sticky with sweat, was pressed against the nape of your neck as he focused on his movements. His cock twitched inside you with each forward press of his hips, the sensation of your tight cunt swallowing him while rubbing along Viktor’s had his release close to the edge already. 

None of you could speak, the sounds of their slick cocks fucking you in languid movements loud in your ears. Heavy breaths, deep grumbles in their chests, and names rolling from your tongue through pleasured mewls. 

Your hips met their rhythms, and not once was your pussy empty. Stretched so deliciously far that you felt your juices dripping down your thighs and wetting the bedsheets beneath your hips.

“I don’t think I’m going to last much longer,” Jayce broke through the silence you shared, his voice shaky as his teeth dragged along your shoulder and focused hard on keeping his release at bay. His finger over your clit had only helped in pushing you further toward your orgasm, fleshy walls clenching tight around the two cocks that took their turns filling you.

“Me neither,” Viktor pulled from your lips, a moan catching in his throat as he stuttered his hips forward, “God—fuck.”

He was the first to fall over the edge, gasping as he buried his face forward against your neck, kissing you as he spilled inside. Jayce was right behind, unable to keep himself from pushing into you, so both cocks stretched you, hot cum sputtering inside you and leaking out as you milked both men dry.

Only a few more tight circles on your clit sent you over, hips twitching and causing both men to groan at the overwhelming feeling of you fucking yourself on their cocks as you rode out your climax. Electricity shooting through your body, loud cries of pleasure falling from your tongue until you were limp and whimpering, shifting so they could both pull out from you.

Once it emptied, you could finally breathe, your body able to relax from the limits you had pushed yourself to. 

“You did so well,” Viktor breathed against your neck, hardly able to speak. His mind was swirling, the weed and exhaustion only dizzying him further as he groaned, “Fuck, I’ve never felt better.”

Jayce hummed in acknowledgement, letting out a heavy sigh as he rolled onto his back and ran a hand through his hair. He wore a lopsided grin as he tugged you towards him so you were tucked forward against his side and Viktor followed, clinging to you from behind and burying his face in your hair.

“Maybe we’ll do that again sometime,” he eventually spoke, slurring slightly from the tiredness that had begun to consume him. 

“Might have to give me a few business days to recover,” you murmured, your face nuzzled against his chest as the three of you lay atop the sheets. Much too tired to even bother pulling the sheets above your bodies.

Viktor chuckled, inhaling your scent deeply as his fingers traced patterns along your stomach absently, “Maybe I will buy you a strap. You can join me in fucking Jayce one of these days.”

“I don’t know about that,” Jayce argued, half-asleep.

“You get used to it.” You giggled, eyes closed as sleep began to win you over.

You sighed quietly, the sounds of both men snoring softly as they fell into deep slumbers after a week of overworking themselves. Your heart was so full of love as they held you close—it was addicting. Jayce and Viktor were addicting. Whatever this was blossoming into was a dangerous game, but you knew you could trust them with your heart.

Your favourite boys.

[cosmosarcana]

can we talk about the funniest thing of the whole experience was someome who sb me for almost 10 months straight saying they were upset i wasn't nice/distant/cold and didn't apologize for it and when i called out their behavior there was no apology from them they just didn't want to talk anymore lol

[moonlightrafe]

Out Of The Woods

summary: The war is over and Rhaenyra’s daughter gets a fresh start in The North.

pairing: Cregan x Targaryen!Reader

word count: 842

warnings: Description of pain & childbirth, grief, RIP Jace <\3

note: Sooo……. It appears that I’m in Cregan Simp Mode

It is a brighter day than usual when your labors start. The sun even begins to peak behind the clouds, casting a gorgeous gleam over Winterfell. It has been six months since the civil war between your family has ended and it seems as though the smoke-like grief that clouds your mind is finally beginning to clear. After all of your pain and suffering, you are now far away from Dragonstone and even farther away from King’s Landing. As your younger brother sits the Iron Throne, you have a hope for a peaceful realm. As well as hope that you and Cregan will finally be able to start anew.

Things are different in Winterfell, especially now that the dance has ended. There is no pressure for your babe to have silver hair or violet eyes. No pressure for it to be born with a cock. All that matters is that the babe is healthy. Your child will not suffer the same hardships as you and your siblings once did.

You can hear heavy footsteps outside of the chamber as Cregan paces restlessly. While you endure another hour of labor, you try to keep your mind elsewhere. Your gaze is fixed on the flicker of the candle that sits in the chandelier above your head.

One of your earlier memories is your mother being in labor with Joffrey. You remember wincing at her screams and placing judgement on the names she called her midwives. Now you don’t blame her. You even admire her for going through this so many times. You miss her terribly.

Your hand grips tightly onto the wooden headboard as you try your hardest to listen to the instructions of your midwife.

“Push into the pain,” she advises you, “when the pain is at its worst, that’s when you will want to push the hardest, my lady.”

Your knees are at your chest, a thin layer of sweat covers your entire body, and your once white nightgown is now stained red. You inhale deeply as you brace yourself for another painful contraction.

And just like that, it’s happening again. It begins as a dull ache in your spine that eventually overtakes you completely. It feels as if you were being torn to shreds. Your muscles begin to spasm and each wave of pain is worse than the last.

A particularly loud scream echoes out into the hallway and it has Cregan bursting through the door into the room, his auburn brows furrowed.

“This is not the place for men, my Lord,” your midwife sternly warns him.

“I do not care! What’s happened?”

“Nothing!” you bark at him, your teeth gritted. This is a pain he is unable to comprehend.

“I’m fine, we’re fine. It just hurts. That’s all.”

Cregan frowns at you as he comes to stand at your side.

“My lord—” your midwife tries to interject once again.

“I’m staying.”

He keeps true to his word and remains at your side for the rest of your labor, despite your midwife’s wishes — earning him many dirty looks.

Another painful contraction comes and the pain is mind blowing. But it seems to be the light at the end of the tunnel. You bring your chin down to your chest and push with all of your might. You push as if your life depends on it, because it does.

“That’s it, my lady! Perfect. I can see the babe already, a full head of hair,” she states.

Just when you swear you cannot push anymore, you feel sudden relief and loud cries fill the room.

“It’s a boy,” your midwife declares, and Cregan squeezes onto your hand tightly.

“And he is one healthy pup! With quite the set of lungs!” she adds.

About an hour later, once you are moved from the birthing bed and all cleaned up, you sit in your large bed that you and Cregan share. Your babe is cozily bundled up and suckling at your breast, his tiny gums gnawing at your flesh.

“Do we have a name for him?” Cregan asks you as he comes to take solace beside you, peering down at the tiny babe.

“I’m not quite sure yet,” you reply, your mind still hazy, your heart full, “did you have something in mind?”

“I was thinking… he holds a striking resemblance to your brother. What do you think?”

You glance down at your newborn son. An angelic face matched with tiny wisps of dark hair that threaten to grow into a thick head of curls.

“Oh,” you coo, “yeah… yeah, he does, doesn’t he?”

Cregan smiles widely at you, in a way that makes your heart want to burst right out of your chest.

You and Cregan both held great love for Jacaerys. It was something you bonded over when you were first getting to know one another. After spending so much time with him at the beginning of the dance, Cregan began to care for Jace as if he was a brother of his own.

“So it’s settled then,” he states with pride, “we’ll call him Jacaerys.”

“Jacaerys,” you breathe out in agreement as your husband places as gentle kiss on your forehead.

[reishifts]

PICK A PILE! - who is your soulmate?

reminder: i am a beginner tarot reader, so don’t fully depend on my readings. this is a general reading and it may not resonate with everyone. regardless, enjoy !!

pile 1

they may live near you or you already know them but it’s someone you don’t expect. if you’re in a current relationship it’s possible that it’s gonna end soon so you can heal and finally get to meet your soulmate

possible appearance: dark hair, light skin, tall, straight/button nose, light brown eyes, resting ‘serious‘ face, broad shoulders, a little bit of acne

how they are like: likes approval of their family, introverted, quiet, can be non-chalant, doesn’t know how to show love but really loves, loyal, hates conflicts, idk why they may smoke weed? secretly competitive, brave, lowkey indecisive, quite inexperienced, a bit afraid of change, listens to their brain instead of heart, ppl pleaser, earth sign energy (strong capricorn energy), logical

where/when will you meet them: ab six weeks perhaps, i got when the circumstances change? (as mentioned it could mean that, if you’re in a relo, after you break up) you may meet them in a place you usually resist going to or where you’re releasing stress/healing. letting go of fears may lead u to them

how will they treat you: they may treat you in a way that reflects growth and challenge, very playful, if you have moles they may place kisses on them very often (idk why that randomly popped up on in mind hehe)

what you love most about them: their emotional depth, wisdom and sense of peace and you really like their perspective on things, it got you wondering and questioning ur own fr

what bothers you the most: they may be insecure or struggle staying optimistic

will they be your life partner: unsure, could be either a rlly hard journey or just no

song that randomly reminds me of your relationship: mind over matter - young, the giant

pile 2

you don’t know them yet

possible appearance: might be a female, lighter hair, perhaps bad eye sight (they need glasses but don’t want to buy them tch), mid sized, baby face, rosy cheeks, sweet smile

how they are like: perhaps they have past trauma and are excited for the future to forget ab the past instead of heal, very optimistic regardless what happened to them, rlly open, independent, likes to be with people but social battery runs out very fast, strong minded, may bite their fingernails, overthinker and has a lot of thoughts, constantly sets new goals, empathic, loves animals, may want a job that has to do w helping ppl (for ex. psychologist), air sign energy (aquarius energy)

where/when will you meet them: 6 months - 2 years (month september is rlly significant), you may meet them in a social gathering that has to do with success

how will they treat you: they may be emotionally a bit distant due to their own problems but at the same time they’re rlly communicative, they have a lot of plans with you tho and they tend to plan ur dates, def more dominant

what you love most about them: their honesty and their equal give-and-take, their balance, their fairness, that they make you feel respected and supported

what bothers you the most: again, their emotional distance, difficulty of letting go of the past and living in the future instead of the present moment

will they be your life partner: most likely not but they will give you an amazing experience & it ends in good terms

song that randomly reminds me of your relationship: die with a smile - lady gaga, bruno mars

pile 3

you don’t know them yet

possible appearance: dark curls, tanned skin, foreign to you, perhaps eye bags, prominent cheekbones, strong build, not tall but like 1,70 - 178 cm

how they are like: extremely funny but introverted, big plans and goals but lost at the moment, may be athletic and sporty, finds it hard to have empathy, hates the color yellow lol, curious and wants to see the world, didn’t grow up with a lot of money, rlly intelligent, not in touch with own emotions and feelings, mature, acts big but is actually rlly submissive hehehehheeh, cracks his knuckles when he’s nervous, looooves fragrances, fire energy (i’m getting aries)

where/when will you meet them: within three months to a year. you may meet them while you’re on holiday or a party

how will they treat you: they’re rlly overprotective, they’re nurturing caring and supportive towards you but they can also rlly be critical and straight forward when you do sth they don’t like

what you love most about them: that they’d never treat you toxically and don’t have negative habits, their authenticity, their openness

what bothers you the most: too focused on financial stability bc they not used to it, spontaneity is lacking, their indecision

will they be your life partner: yes!! i feel like there may be a small break up but you both regret it and and universe always leads you back to each other.

song that randomly reminds me of your relationship: him & i - halsey, g-eazy

[runningupthatvecna]

get the peach(es)

bestfriend!eddie munson x reader

it's the day after chrissy got vecna'd and you and the gang decide to check up on eddie at rick's. he's still in so much distress that you can't help but selflessly stay with your best friend (who you've been harboring a crush on for quite some time) and keep him company. 6k words, not proofread.

cw: the good old friends to lovers trope, eddie is an anxious bean who just needs to be held (by you, ideally), mutual (and not so secret at all) pining, i wrote this with fem!reader in mind (she/her pronouns) but can also be read as gn i guess, fluff, hurt/comfort (for eddie), pet names, mentions of chrissy's death, there shall be kisses and a lot of softness. nothing too explicit but minors are still advised to LEAVE

a/n: totally not self indulgent, that scene of him being so terrified in 4x02 ripped me to shreds so this is my fix-it attempt, trying to still my need to hold him and scratch his head. disclaimer: this piece of writing is based on the ending of that episode, meaning all credits for the setting go to the respective writers. sources to the header images here, here and here. lovely divider by saradika. ok thank you so much for reading byeeee love y'all <3

–––––

The overwhelming need to befriend the satanic metalhead found you at that party at the Wheeler house. You had almost said no to Nancy when she invited you, knowing damn well how the night would end. Steve passed out with a girl on his lap, Robin silently pining after Vickie from some corner of the room while clinging onto the red plastic cup in her hand, Jonathan getting higher than a kite with his old school mates, the younger kids asking you every five minutes if you could give them a ride since you usually were the one staying sober.

Additionally this time, there would be Eddie Munson. This familiar stranger Dustin, Mike and Lucas had met and somehow befriended over the last months, due to them joining his DnD club. "He might come off as a bit intimidating ... but I promise he's super chill and easy going!", Mike had tried to convince his sister, poking the tip of her shoulder repeatedly with a bunch of pleases during lunch break in the editing room of the school's newspaper. Until she rolled her eyes theatrically and agreed to let the ambiguous stranger, which the whole town collectively perceived as not really fitting in (and who you both certainly knew under the not so chill reputation he carried around), attend the celebratory events at Casa Wheeler. Occasion: Karen, Ted and their youngest leaving the house for more than one day, off on vacation.

You'd always kinda stayed out of his ways, used to observe his antics back at school with a silent laugh and this .. intrigue poking at your guts. To you he always stood out, and if anyone asked you'd be hesitant to admit it, but his willingness to go against the flow and not conform to the acceptable standards set by society was honestly impressive. And besides, surely this whole mysterious drug dealer rockstar image must just be a fassade and deep down he's just a dork, right?

His eyes follow you through the living room, an echo of your name crossing his mind repeatedly after having pulled Dustin into a corner for a brief interrogation. He finds it endearing how quickly and almost bashfully you look away every time your curious gaze meets his. As you redirect your focus to the conversation you're becoming engaged in, there's a soft smile creeping onto your lips. Little did he know it would soon start to haunt him in his dreams at night.

"Anything specific you're looking for?"

God, his voice. The close proximity invites your nose to inhale a mix of fresh cigarette smoke, bergamot and sandalwood, allowing you to sense what can only be him standing behind you as you skim through the cabinets of the Wheeler kitchen. You turn your head for your eyes to confirm your assumption and what they find is the deepest brown of round baby cow eyes they've ever met, up so much closer now. The paring of his gaze and plush smile somehow manages to dissolve every little prejudice you've been involuntarily harboring about him. Eddie Munson, the town's freak. Prime reason for the existence of the satanic panic. Drugs. And then you realise that you should probably do the polite thing and give him an answer. "Yeah uh, I was just trying to find the peach syrup", holding his gaze with a small lopsided smile, lost in its warmth which you wouldn't have dared to expect from it, before facing away from him again. He snorts a little, "peach syrup?", pauses to bring a thumb to his upper lip, lightly scratching the skin above as if to wipe something away, before he removes it again and the dimples appear around the corners of his mouth, "that is oddly specific." His response spreads a smile over your face, and the next thing he says widens it, "looks like you have taste though."

You move one step to the side, about to investigate the insides of the next cabinet, the kitchen itself almost empty of people with only three others chatting away in the corner across the island. He follows, undoubtedly trying to stay close, and the heat from the fire he just ignited somewhere inside of you rises to your cheeks. "Thanks, I really like peaches. Especially in my drinks. It adds a little ... kick to my sobriety", you explain, Eddie now quirks an amused eyebrow paired with a lopsided smile at you, and as you get to the last cabinet it dawns on you (and also Eddie) that this household severely lacks peach syrup. An atrocity. Thanks Ted.

After he helped you rummage through the entirety of the kitchen without success but under a lot of small talk, the metalhead vanishes from the function for an hour or so. At least that's what your brain concludes when your vision fails to spot him among the people who are in attendance. Maybe he's selling out of Nancy's bedroom. Maybe he's puking up his insides in the bathroom because he had too much of that weird beer he's been downing all night. Maybe he's banging some random girl in the bathroom upstairs. Or summoning a demon. Or both. At the same time. You once again try focusing your attention back to the conversation you are involved in. Munson already feels so dear to you that the lack of his presence is starting to form an ache in your heart. It's tugging on those strings with how much you already want him near you. Yeah. You're gonna be in trouble with this one.

And then he stumbles into the room from the direction of the front door, an event you're totally unable (and unwilling) to miss. He doesn't look like he just puked, nor sold a whole lot of the stash since you notice it still bulging out the left ass pocket of his black jeans. Instead, as he pushes past the small groups of people socialising – and towards you – while you notice a red net of round fruits dangling from his right hand, and you start to think that his disheveled hair and that rosy tint on his cheeks might actually not be from shagging either. He meets your gaze again as he approaches you with a grin and your heart dares to swell at his attentive gesture (you think you might as well pass away on the spot).

"Have some, peach."

It's not syrup, but you'll take them anyway. And with your next drink, you swallow down not only that peachy sweetness on your tongue, but also whatever this tingly feeling in your chest is.

"Chchhrhch.."

Pause.

"Hey, uh– chrhchhr.."

Silence in your bedroom, the only thing illuminating the space is the moonlight softly falling through the window.

"Chrch– a-are you there?"

You stirr awake from dozing off in your bed, trying to piece together the information your senses are giving you.

Eyes gone dry, you have to blink a few times. Figure out which year it is and so on.

Confusion lies between the static crackle for a moment. That nap after your shift at the diner was necessary. God, you need to fucking quit.

"No I'm sure she'll pick right up, just– hey pleeease b-be awake, goddamn it!–"

Is it already past midnight?

You don't know and you can't tell, the clock on your nightstand still broken. What you do know though is that the familiar voice belongs to your friend Dustin and it's desperately trying to get ahold of you.

They must have found him.

"Dustin? I copy, where are you? What's going on?", you finally grab the device from the nightstand, fully awake and aware of your surroundings now.

You need to know. If he's okay.

There's that all too familiar instant tingle in your chest again, an ache that made itself familiar to you for the first time when he was introduced to you at the one and only Wheeler party several months ago. The dungeon master of Hawkins High's Hellfire club, the lead guitarist of Corroded Coffin and a super chill and easy going guy, to put it in Mike Wheeler's words.

What you didn't expect back then was your heart starting to develop that feeling, that tingle you'd always get to feel when you were in his presence, or like now, when his name is threatening to spill from your friend's lips on the other side of the connection at any moment.

"Aha! See? I told you she'd respond in no time."

You can practically feel Dustin's shit eating grin through the frequency, basking in being correct over Steve Harrington once again. It never gets old between these two.

"Oh my god", Steve's muffled voice is what you can make out vaguely from the off, he's probably palming his face.

"Dustin!", your voice disappears into the device, and your impatience grows with every passing second, hoping he gets the hint.

There's the sound of a door falling shut, leaves rustling under shoes, he must be outside now.

"Alright, okay yeah, so we found him at Rick's and he's really upset and he's been asking for you. I know it's late but can you meet us out here? And maybe, uh, stay with him?"

It's not even worth questioning. You're already wearing shoes. Your biggest hoodie in tow, you stumble into your kitchen with the intention to raid your own snack drawer. Pulling out Eddie's favourite, which you of course had stocked up on ever since hanging out with him at your place had become more of a weekly routine for the both of you.

Ten minutes, you told him. You'd be there in ten.

The drive feels like forever. The longest ten minutes of your life, you think.

You know the route like the back of your hand, having driven along the gravelly road leading from the last intersection before Hawkins' border to the outer world, to the serene woods surrounding Lover's Lake countless times. Eddie would take you here ever so often, for picnics, an occasional smoke after picking up a new delivery from Rick's, cloud or star gazing, listening to Metallica and Tears for Fears on Wayne's old walkman.

The gravel crunches underneath your white reeboks as they land on the ground. You close the door to your car as quietly as possible after you've taken out the bag and your hoodie.

Dustin and Steve are stood outside the boathouse, waving like madmen in the darkness once you come into their periphery.

The younger boy hugs you tightly.

"So glad you could make it", he gets out, the relief palpable through his voice as well as the grip he holds you in for a brief moment.

You look at them both after Steve presses you against him cordially, and breathe out through your nose, making your nostrils flare.

Dustin cracks open the case to you as he starts to ramble about the state in which they found your best friend, "well first he attacked Steve with a broken bottle, we had to put in great effort to convince him that we'd be on his side, and we came to the conclusion that he was in the wrong place at the wrong time, basically."

What you want right now goes without saying. Everyone here knows how close you and Eddie are. As friends, of course. No one would think anything different.

Without wasting another second, the boys lead you inside where Max and Robin are knelt on the wooden floor. Heads turning towards the entrance of the room where you're now standing.

The sight of what's offered to your eyes, sitting opposite of them, breaks your heart.

You can see that he's slightly shivering, eyes glassy in the dim lit room. A small smile tugs at the corner of his lips though once his brain grasps your presence, and he can't help anymore but let the water fall once his eyes lock with yours.

The pain that is swimming in those two deep warm brown oceans hits you like a dagger to the chest. Over the months of being friends with him you'd seen him various different states, none of them comparable to this.

"Peach", his shaky voice announces your arrival and the sound of your nickname spilling from his lips cracks through your bones. The bag that's slung around your shoulder drops onto the wood with a dull thud.

Wobbly legs carry him towards you with a gentle shove past Robin and Max. You're once again reminded of your best friend's sheer physical strength as he wraps his arms around you, instantly burying his face into the crook of your neck.

One arm of your own sneaks around his torso, pressing him against you as tightly as your own strength allows you, while your other hand comes up to bury itself underneath the mane and to end up scratching soothingly over the scalp above the nape of his neck.

Eddie lets out a muffled sob, sniffling into the collar of the sweatshirt you threw on in a haste. He doesn't really want anyone to see him like this, certainly not Steve Harrington, so he clutches onto you so tightly that he thinks you might just feel his heavy heart beating anxiously against your chest.

And you do. How could you not with the amount of world he means to you? Like an automatism your other hand rubs slow circles over his back. Comforting him in the best way you could. Not a conscious decision you make.

"Okay so, m'not meaning to ruin the party, in fact I'd love to stay for another round of doom talk, but I really should get home soon, guys", Robin scratches the back of her head after she gets up from her huddled position next to the wooden crate Eddie had been sitting on. Max joins in and agrees, mumbling something about having to move her mom from being passed out on the couch again into her bed.

"Yeah me too, actually. My dad's gonna be fucking pissed. We'll see you tomorrow, yeah?", Steve's voice echoes through the room and you can tell he's already shoved Dustin back outside, itching to drive the kid home.

As Eddie processes having to stay in hiding, added the possibility of everyone leaving without him, his grip on you tightens even more.

"It's okay, Eds", you speak softly, head slightly tilted so your cheek rests on the dark frizzy mop you could call his hair. The skin on his neck and scalp so warm underneath your fingertips as you keep scratching it, emphasizing your presence, "I'll stay."

A soft muffled whimper is what you get as a response, and the way he lets you see him in this state melts your insides to a puddle.

You just need him to be okay.

They wave their goodbyes behind your back, accompanied by mumbles of "see you in the morning", and you can't even bring yourself to turn your head around, fully focused on making the young man in your arms less terrified of the world. A world he was sure was now going to come for him with all its force – in deep conviction of him being responsible for Chrissy's misfortunate end.

The door falls shut and Eddie muffles a quiet thank you into the fabric of your sweatshirt. The skin on your neck is damp with his tears, wet eyelashes tickling every time he blinks.

"It's okay, Eds", you softly keep repeating your words to him while continuously rubbing over the denim of his signature Dio vest in a slow motion, when he feels the urgency to claim the truth into the collar of your sweater about what has happened, "I– I didn't do it, I swear."

As if you would need any convincing.

"Oh no of course you didn't, I know that", you're looking for a way to ease the distress this entire situation is causing him, his quivering voice adding to your desire to soothe him to inner peace, "can I make a suggestion?"

Eddie nods with another sniffle against your collarbone, the round wet tip of his nose brushing against the column of your throat lightly. To his ears, your voice sounds like silk right about now.

"How about we head over to the main house and get ourselves a little more comfortable? Since we're gonna be here for a little longer? My god you probably haven't slept or eaten at all, have you?"

You can feel him nod his head again with a hum this time, and you start to think that the tears might not just be pouring because he just witnessed someone suffer a gruesome death right in front of him, but also due to physical exhaustion.

It makes your heart ache even more, that tingle still present, even more so now. It hurts to see your best friend hurt.

He just needs to be okay. And in that heart of yours there's that little spark of hope that leads you to believe you could be the one helping him with that.

You'd really want that. Be all his to find comfort in, to hold close, to kiss stupid

Stop.

A sigh escapes your lungs at the thought. That tingle, that longing, it's selfish. It familiarly pools in your belly and slowly drips downwards. You push your brain aside. This is about soothing your best friend now.

"C'mon then", you utter softly, encouraging him with your hand to lift his head from where it leans against your shoulder.

For your heart it's almost too much to look at, the hurt still swimming in the glassy big brown irises, his waterline red and puffy. The soft smile returning to his lips causes the wet apples of his cheeks to push up slightly, reflecting the dim light coming from the one torch Robin left you, placed on one of the crates.

He really hadn't been able to close an eye for a single second since he he'd gotten up for school the day prior.

You smile back at him almost bashfully as you slowly create space between your bodies.

Eddie is grateful that it's you who grabs his ringed hand next.

He squeezes yours, hoping to get the message of this meaning something to him across.

And he closely trails behind you as you lead the way.

The house feels empty, like no one's really been here in months. You'd never been inside. The few times you'd accompanied Eddie grabbing stash you'd stayed in his van, waiting. But as far as you now can make out in the darkness, there's a couch with knitted blankets, a little TV with a whole stack of VHS almost rising as high as the screen itself, spilled and spluttered empty cans and papers and wrappings littered all around. Maybe this is why he never let you come inside with him. Keeping you out of this definitely not sterile mess. Along with keeping you out of the business.

In the middle of the living room, you let go of his hand and shuffle one step away from him. He's inside now. Safe. Job done. Doesn't need physical contact. You shouldn't, he's your friend. You feel like something between you would break if you'd go there.

Eddie thinks otherwise, regarding close proximity at least. He promptly follows you into what you believe to be the kitchen where you hope you might find a tea bag or two. He comes up behind you and encases you in his arms as you rummage through the cabinets (feels familiar, hm?), not at all ready to say goodbye to the warmth of your body pressed against his own just yet.

You giggle at the silliness of him putting weight on you just to make it harder for you to reach into the cabinets. It's endearing. And very Eddie.

Twenty minutes later and there's two mugs – cleaned to your best ability – with steaming hot liquid on the sixties wooden coffee table. Next to them a plate filled with the almost equally hot insides of a ravioli in tomato sauce can. Thank Rick for a still functioning microwave.

You drape the knitted blankets over both you and Eddie as you settle into the cushions. The only light existent coming from two lit candles on said coffee table. It wouldn't be too wise setting up the torch you think.

The side of Eddie's face glows in the orange yellow, his wide brown bambi eyes dried after the first grand storm, and there's this tug on the corner of his pink plush lips again. He exchanged his leather jacket for the freshly washed hoodie for comfort and a small part of you hopes he doesn't spill his dinner onto any of it.

You lean back into the backrest of the worn out couch and watch as he eats, a domestic thing you've done a thousand times already, yet you still find comfort in knowing that he's nourishing himself.

Or well, in this case, inhaling the raviolis.

"Thank you Peach", he moves to put the empty plate back on the coffee table and it makes the spoon chink and glide along the edge, "I really needed this."

His voice is a little hoarse, probably from the emotions of the hours behind him. Maybe he has indeed calmed down a little. His hand moves down to your thigh, squeezing.

You give him the most empathetic smile you can bring yourself to display, painfully aware of the blaze that is transpiring through your leggings and seeping into your bones, "it's no big deal, really. I mean it is– uh, being there for you, is."

And he can't bring himself to look up at you. Instead, he stares at the empty plate on that coffee table in front of him.

"And to me as well. It really helps that you're here."

He doesn't bother moving the calloused warmth of his hand from the soft warmth of your thigh. It lights your entire nervous system on fire. In a good way.

And that's when you begin to wonder if everything that has just happened and is still happening right now changes anything.

"I'm so glad it does", is all you're able to get out.

Eddie decides that it's time to lean into your side and wrap his arms around your torso once again, drop his head back to its favourite place with a soft content little hum.

He just needs physical comfort. Of course. Just that. Nothing more, nothing else.

The words are redundant but your mouth articulates them anyway, "try to get some sleep, yeah?"

His back already lifts and falls evenly. You place your hand on the back of his head that rests in the crook of your neck again, scratching through the curls lightly, searching to help him shut off even deeper.

–––––

The candles have gone out by the time your eyelids slowly open. It takes you a moment to recall the location you fell asleep in, and you hope that the nightly darkness the whole room is now filled with hasn't invited any stranger to take advantage of your unconsciousness.

There's a warm hand holding your face, the pad of a thumb tracing over the apple of your cheek softly. It makes its way from the bridge of your nose to the outer corner of your eye, and back. And forth. And back. And forth.

You must have moved to lie down on your back in your sleep, with Eddie's weight still on your body, legs entangled. It's not the first time you've slept like this, there had been movie nights that had ended similarly.

His hand caressing your cheek though, yeah that is new. There's something unspoken in the air this time around. Your stomach is doing flip flops when you realise that he is propped up on his elbow, just .. looking at you. With eyes that don't require light to hint at whatever it is he is trying to say, or maybe not trying at all.

"Eds, what are you doing?", you ask almost in a whisper followed by a lopsided smile, expecting an unserious answer, because he always tends to make a joke whenever he tries to avoid conversing about emotions regarding his heart.

His thumb stops its acrobatics on your cheek, comes to a halt.

"I'm–", he takes a deep breath before he continues, "I'm just so grateful it's you that's here right now."

Your hand comes up to cup his. Brush over his rough knuckles with a thumb of your own. Enjoying the warmth that is seeping from his palm into your skin.

"Yeah, I figured you were gonna be a little opposed to spending the night with Harrington", you laugh, an attempt to turn your nerves into humour.

Eddie snorts a little, "yeah right, it's almost like you know me", he grins and pushes himself even closer to your face than he already is. It doesn't necessarily help in extinguishing the fire that's consuming you whole at this point.

"It's almost like we're best friends and I know what you think of him because every time Dustin or literally anyone else mentions his name around you, you're not necessarily secretive about it."

"Hey, my own worldview is not my fault, it's just– ... he just kinda seems like a douche of the highest order."

"He's quite alright, Eds. Try giving him a chance, I think he'd look great as Coffin's tambourinist."

He snorts again and you feel his breath on the column of your neck next when he dips his head down, nose pressing against the soft skin, his small giggle being swallowed by the collar of your sweatshirt.

Your favourite sound. Ever. Followed by the relieved moan Eddie lets out at the way your other hand is softly rubbing over his shoulder blade. The vibration against your neck makes you twitch as much as being pinned into the couch cushions by his body allows you.

It's soothing as much for you as it is for him.

When he lifts his head, the soft gaze he eyes you with is enough to let the goosebumps erupt. Even in the darkness of the room you can still make out those round buttons that could melt the entire north pole.

"Thank you, Peach, really. I'd be goin' mental right now and probably tryin' to counter that by smoking an equally mental amount of the stash I've been hiding here."

Your heart aches.

"I'm just glad I can be that kind of comfort to you, Eds. You don't have to go through whatever the fuck this is alone."

"I know I'm never gonna be alone as long as you are there."

You almost cry yourself now, his words making your hand travel from his own to his cheek, almost passing out from the way his eyes bore into your own once again.

Eddie isn't sure what it is that is making him feel lightheaded right now. The whole rollercoaster of events of the past hours. Or your words of affirmation. Or mayhaps it is your cute soft hand with that little ring on your thumb which is gently swiping over his damp skin.

That cute soft hand he'd been imagining countless times at night, silently yearning for your eyes to look at him differently, to finally see him in a different light the next time you'd hang out.

Probably a combination of just everything.

You reciprocate his soft half-lidded gaze, hand moving from his cheek to tuck some of his hair behind his left ear, revealing that delicate silver hoop earring you'd gifted to him for his birthday, after having talked your ear off about getting his ear pierced for literal months.

He'd insisted you join him for the appointment, "another metal moment for the books", as Eddie had called it, the need to have his hand held during the stab comically urgent in the way his voice sounded when he called you that day. And in the pace in which he picked you up.

"I'm here no matter what", you respond to his sentiment, that hand that brushed his hair away resting on the side of his neck while leaning the weight of your head into his palm that is still attached to your cheek.

Eddie's confidence reaches a new all time high with the admission of your unconditional support being stirred into the cocktail of hormones and emotions that's been circulating in his bloodstream for a generous amount of time now.

Because then he goes on by saying impossible things.

Impossible things with a slightly less platonic undertone.

"You're so fucking sweet, has anyone ever told you?"

You smile as you shake your head, heat rising to your cheeks once again and you're sure he won't be able to see just how flustered he's getting you (joke's on you he does).

You're also sure he's out of his mind for saying that. Now.

"A shame, honestly. You should scold your best friend for not telling you sooner. Tell him what a fucking idiot he is."

Eddie earns another giggle from you. Music to his ears. Better than Metallica. Okay maybe not but .. pretty fucking close.

"I'll let him know next time I see him", you say with a grin, playing along with pleasure, and you ask yourself why it is only now that you realise just how fucking close his face is to yours.

There is a moment of silence in which Eddie hesitates articulating whatever is seemingly bugging his mind.

"Do you, uh, still like him?"

If you lifted your head just a little your noses would be touching. A silly and utmost redundant question, and yet, Eddie dreads your answer. If the circumstances were different, less dystopian and tragic, you'd seriously wonder what would spark the doubt in your friendship in him, but considering that everyone else would be going to pour their judgement over him, you understand.

Every word exchanged between the two of you at this hour is soaked in mutual infatuation, something the idiots in both of you are slowly starting to fathom as well.

"Of course I do, he's everything to me."

As you say it, you can't help the grin which reappears reliably each time you finish verbalizing your thoughts. It's contagious, you notice.

"And do you think – just hypothetically of course", it's only then he breaks eye contact to clear his throat, "of course", you interrupt him still smiling and cocking an eyebrow at him, "d'ya think it would be okay for this best friend to, uh, maybe...", Eddie pauses, internally watching the ship containing his confidence set sail slowly and ultimately letting the irrational thoughts win for tonight, "would you let him..."

Eddie generally wasn't someone who lacked confidence. It showed in the way he boisterously wandered the halls of Hawkins High, the way his demeanor never changed, his mask never faltered no matter who was around. Except for you. You who he had always granted a look underneath the impulsive, extroverted surface.

"Eds", you try everything in your power to stay calm even though everything inside of you is screaming right now and you're certain you can feel your pulse in your earlobes.

"Would it be just insane of that best friend to kiss you right now?"

You want to squeal and kick your feet, pull him into your face, pinch your own forearm, pass away, leave the house and never return, and stay right where you are forever, buried underneath your favourite metalhead, the parts where your bodies are touching practically on fire, cosy and content.

Instead, the most fond smile spreads over your lips as you try to contain your internal overwhelm.

It's still dark, the only light source being the full moon outside. Eddie's so hopeful of your reciprocation and even more terrified of ruining his entire life at the same time, those deep doe eyes at this point pretty much resemble the shape of the space rock orbiting earth. Rejection from you, his pretty Peach and the Bonnie to his Clyde, would be unbearable.

"I think so," you almost whisper, the hand that's been rubbing over Eddie's back coming up to lightly trace one of his eyebrows with your index finger because you just can't seem to not touch him in some way, "but you should know that I love his insanity."

Your small giggle is being silenced by a soft and cautious kiss from Eddie Munson. Like he doesn't want to break you. Or he's afraid you'll snap out of a haze, slap him and leave if he starts kissing you like he really wants to.

And then it's you who goes for it, you feel at home, right where you belong, you don't think you've ever felt this good. The hand on his jaw tugs him closer softly, pressing your lips to his with a bit more urgency.

It gives him all the confirmation he could possibly need.

That tingle, it grows and fills up your chest and shoots through your entire being, goosebumps and all. Eddie moans and breathes against your lips, tongue dancing over the thin skin, asking for permission.

His ringed hand digs deeper and slowly moves to the nape of your neck, intending to hold you in place, afraid you could slip away from him if he didn't. This blossoming thing between you could slip away from him. If he didn't.

It's so soft, the way his lips touch yours, and before you know it they move to your cheek, to your jaw, down your neck before Eddie comes up again, smiling from ear to ear, to gently bump his nose against the tip of yours and his lips return home with a soft and deep hum escaping from his lungs into your mouth.

Relief floods his veins along with whatever it is you're doing to him. The ability to shut out the insanity of the past hours is what he so desperately wants to cling to for as long as you allow him, even if the dawn will remind him of the horrid reality he's involuntarily become subject to live through now.

"You're making things so much better, Peach, you're so sweet, so fucking cute, so fucking good for me, do you even know for how long I've been dreaming of this?"

Eddie greedily pulls your face into his again, not even giving you a chance to reply and not nearly getting enough of your affection it seems with how fervently his tongue searches for yours.

A gentle collision of skin.

The soft whimpers you let out only spur him on. You not backing away from him, staying with him, letting him be this close to you?

You, the only constant source of consolation Eddie's ever really had.

Life changing.

Soft touches follow soft touches, your thumb traces his jaw repeatedly.

"You don't–", kiss, "for how long–", kiss, "I've been dreaming–", kiss, "of you as well", you breathe against him and Eddie thinks he might be about to resort to sniffling into your collar again with the amount of relief he is experiencing.

You'd let him.

"Yeah?", he presses his nose into your cheek with his eyes closed, smiling from ear to ear, relaxing his entire body into yours as you let him slide inbetween your legs.

"Yeah, you know how much of a sucker I am for peaches", you grin, another peck to his cheek, his jaw, his neck, your hips slowly finding a rhythm against his own.

Eddie groans at your allusion with a wide grin on his face (and the feeling of your warmth against his dick), before pressing his lips against yours again lovingly, "me too baby, me too."

–––

taglist (thought you might be interested): @josephfakingquinn, @ghost-proofbaby, @analogkraken, @wroteclassicaly, @songforeddiemunson, @joejoequinnquinn, @somnambulic-thing, @trashmouth-richie, @eddddiemunson, @ceriseheaven, @userchai

comments, reblogs and other forms of affection towards the author are greatly appreciated thank youuuuu <3

[moonstruckme]

heya!! i was wondering if you could write a poly!marauders x reader where r stopped smoking..? i’m 6 months clean from smoking nicotine and i haven’t told anyone (you’re the first!! lmao) just incase i break from a stressful day and so i don’t disappoint!! could you maybe write that into the drabble or whatever you do..? tysm if you do, and if you don’t then no worries!!

i love you mae and make sure to take care of yourself and keep being you!!!!

thanks for requesting gorgeous, i really hope you're doing well!! proud of you <3

cw: smoking, reader deals with addiction

poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 936 words

Remus smells like cigarettes. He’s stopped smoking anywhere near you, but you’re sure if you look out the front door you’ll see the telltale smear of ash smashed into the sidewalk from where he’d stamped one out on the way in. The aroma brings longing and self-loathing, the former more potent than the latter, and you find yourself breathing in the fibers of his sweater for a whiff of it. 

Remus doesn’t catch onto the true motivation for your proximity. He takes it for cuddling, adjusting his hold on his book so he can read with one hand while the other wraps around your shoulders, encouraging you closer to his side. Underneath the heady smell of lingering smoke he smells like himself, like cinnamon and oranges, and you try to focus on that as your better sense fogs over and your fingers start itching for a cig. 

“Aha!” Sirius slaps his last card down on the table. 

James blows out a flabbergasted breath, leaning back on his hands on the floor. They’re playing some kids’ card game Remus learned in primary school and unwisely taught them. At first you’d all gotten into it, but after Sirius nearly took your head off for forgetting the rules and playing with two hands (“Sorry, gorgeous, you know I don’t mean anything I say when I’m trying to win…and I could have won, couldn’t I? No, I’m just saying, it’s about the principle—”) you and Remus had bowed out. James and Sirius have retained their obsession for days, each keeping a scoreboard in their own heads that seems to hold them in favor. 

“Angel?” 

You look up, meeting James’ knowing gaze. “Hm?” 

“He asked if you’re getting hungry for dinner,” Remus clues you in, toying with the ends of your hair. 

“Oh, sorry. Um…” You think hard. One of the more irritating things about quitting smoking is that now your appetite never seems to fully die down. You’re ready for your next meal all day long, and so you actually have to think about whether it makes sense for you to have it. “I had some carrots just after I got home, so I could eat whenever you want to.” 

“Alright…” 

You take another deep inhale, telling yourself it’s because Remus smells nice and losing your grasp on self-control all the while. 

“Are you tired?” Remus asks, and you don’t know how you didn’t notice it before, that extra bit of roughness that his voice takes on after he’s been smoking. You’re so envious you could die. “You seem distracted.” 

“I’m good,” you murmur. Though perhaps it’d be better if you did take a nap or something. You’re beginning to feel twitchy. You take in a breath through your nose like you’ve been practicing, letting it out through your mouth. 

“Ah.” Sirius scoots closer to you, laying his cheek on the couch cushion. “You want to have a piece of your gum, sweet thing?” 

You look at him guiltily. Remus makes a soft sound of realization. 

“You’re picking your nails,” Sirius explains, and you look down to see that you are. “I imagine that means you’re craving one.” 

It’s simultaneously sweet and irksome that none of your boyfriends will even say the word cigarette around you anymore. They’re trying to be considerate, you know, but it feels like they think your self-control is so tenuous that just one word could shatter it. You don’t have the heart to tell them. 

“Sorry,” you mumble, getting the pack of gum out of your pocket. Just the act of unwrapping a stick makes you feel instantly better. “I guess I was thinking I wouldn’t need it anymore.” 

“Don’t be sorry,” James says lightly. “I don’t imagine it’s easy, sweetheart, you shouldn’t feel bad about using something to cope. It’s not like having gum hurts anything.” 

You hum, then turn to Remus sheepishly. “I’m really sorry, do you think you might be able to change?” He looks confused. “Your sweater smells like cigarettes,” you explain. 

James gasps as though scandalized and Remus swears, grabbing the neckline of his sweater and tugging it off. He tosses it into the hall. 

“M’sorry, dove.” He takes your head between his hands, mushing a kiss into your hair. He’s now bare-chested, and you laugh at the dramatics, totally unexpected from him. “I didn’t realize. Is it better now?” 

“Yeah, thanks.” 

He drops another kiss on your head, remorseful. “Alright, I’ll go grab something else to wear,” he says, starting to stand. Both Sirius and James protest loudly. 

“I think what you’re wearing now looks great,” says James. 

“Yeah,” Sirius seconds, “stay in that.” 

Remus looks down at his shirtless torso, raising an eyebrow at the other boys. You can see the amusement dancing in his eyes. 

“Really?” he asks. 

“Come on, it’s not like the fucking Pope’s coming over,” Sirius says, looking well below your boyfriend’s eyes with unabashed enthusiasm. “Tell him, gorgeous.” 

Remus turns his gaze on you. You curl in on yourself slightly, shrugging your shoulders. “This is the best distraction I’ve had all day,” you say quietly, and James’ laughter booms off the walls. 

“Fair enough.” Remus rolls his eyes, grinning as he sits back down on the couch beside you. You get comfy like you were against his side, now smelling only him. He drapes his arm across your back, settling a hand on your hip. “The lows I stoop to for you, hm?” 

“If you’re not up to the task,” Sirius says, “just say the word. I’d be happy to take her off your hands.” 

“Fuck off,” Remus says, and tugs you closer.

[rueclfer]

not a lot, just forever // oneshot part two

a/n: i remember talking about this on the timeline a couple of months ago and it has rotted in my brain ever since !!! happy birthday touya baby <3 i am ssssoooooo normal about you!!

keigo takami, touya todoroki, tomura shigaraki

it's been almost a year since touya had started his rehabilitation program, and here you were, like clockwork, willingly sharing his rock hard hospital-grade mattress with your head cushioned against his chest and the same chirpy attitude he couldn't quite understand how you mustered up this early in the morning.

"wanna go get breakfast?"

"no."

"wanna go on a walk?"

"no."

"wanna call fuyumi? mom? spinner? see what they're up to today?"

"no."

a beat of silence passes between you two.

you roll onto your front and prop yourself up onto your elbow, turning face to face with him.

"why do you always have to be so grumpy in the mornings?" you groan, bringing your hand up and swiping away at the stray tuffs of hair hung over his forehead from a night's worth of tossing and turning.

"told you 8am is a crazy time to come visit. every day, too." he scoffs, a slight smirk tugging on the corner of his lips as he reaches up and lazily drags a finger across your jaw. "don't you have better things to do?"

"you're lucky, visitation hours only start at 8am. i'd be with you 24/7 if i had it my way." you whisper, leaning into his hand. "connected by the hip, drinking from the same cup of water, you'd be sick of me in less than 48 hours, and i wouldn't care."

touya instinctively tries to pull away before you melt into his touch, eyes fluttering close for a moment as you release a heavy exhale in content.

the palm of his rough and scarred hand laid flush against the softness of your cheek. he barely has any feeling in his hands anymore, but somehow he feels everything.

this is the first time that question had crossed his mind, like a wild animal running across an unlit road. an audible laugh almost escapes his mouth.

he could only ever hope that you'd come back the next day.

the thought never leaves him. it's always lingering in the back of his head, followed by an internal scoff.

marriage doesn't mean anything. you two love each other, and that's all that matters. marriage is only paperwork. marriage doesn't equal love.

marriage doesn't equal love.

but sometimes it takes one look at you for him to get all choked up, and when this happens he thinks about telling you exactly how he feels. he wants to tell you how much he loves you. it hurts him to be left with no words that could amount to that feeling you give him, so instead he's left balling his fists and pressing the crescent of his nails into his palm trying to ease this ache in his chest.

years later, after touya had completed his program, you're overlooking the city from your shared apartment together.

you've been out running errands and he had spent the day in therapy and meeting with his siblings afterwards. naturally you'll find yourselves sitting across from one another on the fire escape chatting about your days through a shared cigarette and cup of tea.

you're looking out towards the distant city lights. touya's looking at you.

nothing much has changed.

you're sporting the same hoodie you snagged from his closet from what felt like an eternity ago. you picked up smoking thanks to his influence- but socially of course, as you'd like to correct him whenever he makes a snarky comment. you still can't bring yourself to toss that tattered blanket you left with him the first night the hospital staff allowed you to sleepover with him.

and for the millionth time since that morning a few years ago, that question crosses his mind again.

and for the first time, he doesn't roll his eyes or scoff at himself, but instead his mouth goes dry and the palms of his hands grow clammy.

you nudged his leg with your foot. "what're you thinking about, spacey?"

he's thinking about why you're still here. why do you still choose to come back? even after all those years ago when he was ready to leave you behind in this lifetime?

he's thinking about as long as you'll have him, he could spend his life with you doing exactly this. he'll deal with it all- the insufferably loud mornings, shameless PDA, the nagging, the babying, all of it. he doesn't mind at all.

"can i marry you?"

touya sucks in a sharp breath of air and presses his lips together in regret the second the words slip from his mouth.

"if you wanted to leave, you would've by now." he reminds himself- the only thought that'll keep him sane.

"really?" you exclaim, almost spitting out your tea.

touya looks back at you with wide eyes, the butt of the cigarette slipping from his fingers and onto the cold metal of fire escape, spewing sparks of ash against his leg.

a moment of silence passes. then two.

"what do you mean really?"

"you really want to marry me?" your smile grows into a wide grin, making his cheeks flush and stomach twist.

touya’s body moves without a second thought. he crawls over to you and perches himself on one knee. he feels like an idiot. he bites down on his lip in embarrassment as he takes your hand in his cold and rough palms, bringing your knuckles up to his lips.

"really," he mutters against your skin, his voice shaking, "if you’d let me.”

the question lingers in the air for another moment. years of thinking about this, and yet he was far from prepared. he should’ve taken you out. he should've gotten dressed up. he doesn’t even have a ring to give you.

tonight wasn't so different from any other night, but there was a burning ache in his chest that was desperate for that confirmation of forever with you- something that he couldn't have ever been ready for.

you lean forward and move your hand from his grasp to the side of his jaw where you pull him in. 

“you and me, touya. it's always going to be us.” you whisper before colliding your lips with his- sealing a silent promise to one another.

[love-that-we-were-in]

lighting the fuse might result in a bang

pairing: frat!luke castellan x reader summary: Silena thinks you need to start blowing off some steam. You think you just need a fresh victory and Luke Castellan is the perfect opponent. word count: 5.3k warnings: smoking, drinking, usual college party stuff.

author's note: brought to you by my personal deep dark history with boys in hats. also i haven't gotten drunk in like 4/5 years so i don't remember what it's like so this was interesting. also i don't know anything about frats OR smoking. have the most fun <3

When Silena mentions a party you could go to, you jump at the offer, brain fuzzing at the edges where you’ve been locked in on flashcards all afternoon. It’s something you’ve started to navigate better this year, remembering to have fun after a year of non-stop focus. Silena makes it easier - a social butterfly with no qualms about dragging you out of the library when she thinks you’re pushing yourself too hard - and there’s no harm in listening to her without protest sometimes. 

“Do you even know who’s throwing this one?” You ask as she’s leading you through campus, rubbing at your arms to fight the fall chill. “I do not want a repeat of March.” 

“Have some faith in me. I’ve started vetting my sources.” 

Both of you shiver, the memory of a night spent outside the Stolls’ cramped dorm still haunting you six months later. You’re not overly familiar with this side of campus, turning away from the usual halls and towards the sorority housing, but Silena walks the path with ease, arm looped through yours.

The walk seems to have cleared your head, the music as you approach shaking off the last of the static. You’ve been here before, borrowing notes from a teammate, but it’s different like this, all pumping bass and cheers from the kitchen. Clarisse waves at you from across the room, beer in hand, and you mutter to Silena that you’re going to grab a drink. She nods, making a beeline for Drew Tanaka. You assume that’s who the invitation came from originally.

There’s a different energy to the kitchen, not quieter by any means but less noisy. Less concentrated, maybe, with twenty different conversations happening at once and nothing you have to pay attention to. Most people you don’t recognise, a group from your first year stats class huddled together near the sink, and the Stolls off to the side pointing at every new person they see. 

Mixing your drink is an easy fix, the kitchen island covered in more choices than you’ve seen in a while, and you savor the first few sips. Between class and swimming, you’ve barely drank since the semester began and the burn of vodka isn’t as numbed as you wish it was. Still, a drink is a drink so you refill it before returning to the thick of the party. 

Clarisse takes it upon herself to drag you away from the conversation you end up trapped in with Lee Fletcher, quite literally taking hold of your elbow. You mutter an apology, however disingenuous, rolling your eyes in mock exasperation as he smiles grimly. 

“I have no idea how you talk to that lot,” she says when you’re far enough away. “They’re all boring.” 

“Lee’s great. He always lends me notes from the lectures I miss.”

She laughs, pushing you into another room. “He’s trying to swindle a date out of you and you’re using him for lecture notes.” 

You shrug. There’s nothing wrong with Lee, except that Clarisse is a little right when she says most of your classmates are boring. It’s probably not intentional, and they definitely don’t realize it, but there’s this way they carry themselves around campus - half-nervous and half-haughty. It’s not a great combination and it’s why you gravitate towards the people Silena meets. 

“We were wondering when we were going to see you next,” Chris says as he throws an arm over Clarisse’s shoulder. You still don’t quite know the story there, how Chris Rodriguez managed to sweet talk your stoic teammate. One day, you’ll find out - a drunken vow you made with Silena on your dorm room floor when Clarisse mentioned a boyfriend - but you’re content to let them enjoy their romance in peace for now. “Almost thought you’d succumbed to the dark side.”

“You’re not getting rid of me yet.”

“And thank god,” he knocks his cup against yours before gesturing to the far corner of the room. “Because we need someone to kick Castellan’s ass at beer pong.” 

“Whose?”

Turns out, Luke Castellan is the newest brother to ksig. There’s not much to know about Chris’ fraternity in your eyes, just the basics of all frats, and you know from last year that there’s always bound to be a hotshot that needs someone to pump the brakes on their ego. Usually, they’re on the younger side, with more money than sense and they don’t expect anything from your approach. Luke Castellan isn’t quite that, but he’s not far from it either.

While Chris talks to the boy who was about to play, you take the opportunity to size up your opponent. It comes naturally, a part of constantly competing, and it comes in handy in moments like this, when the element of surprise is a key factor to the situation going ahead. 

Fitted jeans, branded polo and a stupid snapback cap worn backwards to show how cool he is. Nothing you haven’t seen before, really, except there’s this focused glint in his eyes with each plastic ball he throws like he has to prove his worth here. It’s a simple practice, unnecessary for a silly party game, but there’s this serious set to strong shoulders that you’re curious about.

The same way you want to know about Clarisse’s relationship, you want to know what makes Luke Castellan, whoever he is, tick. 

“Are you trying to get alcohol poisoning, Rodriguez?” 

“I’m not playing you, Luke,” Chris says and you watch closely as the other boy tilts his head slightly to the left. “I just had to go and get the current undefeated champion on campus.”

There’s this moment that happens every time you play - those awkward seconds where everyone looks completely past you to anyone else, anyone more noticeable. You count on it, occasionally, so it takes you a moment to process the way Luke’s gaze slides to you, drinks you in before he nods towards the other end of the table. 

Chris mutters a quiet “you got this,” as you brush past him, handing him your drink. You’re not delusional enough to think you can get away with mixing your drinks this early in the game. 

It takes two of Luke’s shots for you to land your first, his last hour of playing an advantage you accounted for. He’s not getting sloppy, not in the slightest, but he’s at the point where he’s a little worse for wear - a tired arm and hazy mind - and you take the chance you have at a false sense of security, taking your losses on the chin before playing the game to win. 

Within seven shots between you, you can see Luke start to get restless. How he reevaluates the table in front of him, his three empty cups to your four. Part of you really wants to knock that hat off his head, as if it’ll give you more of an insight into his mind. Instead, you wait for what you know is coming, a slight miscalculation that has the plastic ball rolling off the table to land at someone’s feet. 

Chris hands you a fresh one and you take in the way Luke swallows, jaw clenching as you line up your next shot. Whether he knows it or not, you’ve just been handed your win.

Clarisse cheers, handing you one of the cups from in front of you as everyone yells. You both chug what’s left of them, the bitter taste of cheap beer drowned out by victory, and as soon as that’s done, she throws herself back into Chris’ arms. Laughing, you turn around to find another drink, only to be met by Luke standing beside you.

“Are you about to be a sore loser?” 

He chuckles and it’s different like this. His eyes are brown, which you didn’t know five minutes ago, and his hair is dark from the little wisps of it you can see peeking out underneath his hat. You consider telling him that the hat makes him look lame, but then he’s leaning down to whisper anyway. “I expect a rematch.” 

It’s quiet and heavy and you wonder if anyone can tell that your blood feels like it’s on fire. It’s nothing, really, and it takes more effort than you want to respond. 

“Then expect to lose.”

The only saving grace to the exchange is that Luke looks a whole lot more affected by it, a blush crawling up his neck as you take the drink nearest to you and leave to find your roommate once more. 

*

Losing never used to get to you. Not like this, at least, where everything sort of feels like a precipice and you’re waiting for the next loss to fall on your shoulders alone. It was meant to be an easy game, a warm-up, for when the season started in earnest and you couldn’t afford to be incohesive. There’s always a learning curve, new starters and new competition, but in no world should it have caused this. 

Silena tells you to let it go, throwing yet another outfit on her bed as she gets ready. When you saw her at lunch, Clarisse told you to just push harder during practice. Sometimes you’re not even sure how you can be friends with both of them, how they can be friends with each other either. Unfortunately, it becomes very clear when Clarisse knocks on the door that night. 

“Why aren’t you ready?” 

“I’m not going anywhere.” 

She tuts at you, digging through the pile of clothing on Silena’s bed before throwing a dress at you. “Get dressed.” 

“You can’t make me,” you protest, the black fabric scrunching in your fist. You’ve borrowed it before, for a party last year you don’t remember very well, and you don’t even want to consider why it’s the one Clarisse selected. You turn to your roommate, looking for backup, only to find her with a pair of your shoes in her hands. “Are you seriously going to make me?” 

In unison, they raise a singular eyebrow each and it’s unsettling enough that you let go of all will to fight them. Today may as well just be full of losses that you can mourn tomorrow.

It’s only when you arrive at the party that you realize you have no idea who’s throwing it. Or who’s going to be there. Distantly, you really hope it’s a stranger Silena met on her way around campus - full of people you’ve ever met and will never see again. You could find someone nice enough to blow off some steam with before going on your merry way. 

When Clarisse yells at her boyfriend, you let out a huff as both he and Luke Castellan turn around. 

Since your first meeting, you’ve learned a few more things about Luke. He’s from Connecticut. He was responsible for half of Drew’s sorority coming down with the flu during freshers week. He’s in pre-med. He’s the reason Professor Chase introduced a ban on energy drinks in his lectures (one hundred students simultaneously opening a can of Redbull each was, apparently, mildly disconcerting). Most importantly, he’s always wearing that stupid cap. 

You try to equate the things you know with the Luke standing in front of you. Some of it makes perfect sense - Professor Chase and Connecticut - and some of it unsettles you, but it’s all true. Freshers and pre-med and track meets. Focusing on the distracted way he taps on his beer bottle instead of Clarisse greeting Chris, you kind of want to find out a whole lot more. 

“Fancy a rematch?” 

It’s the first thing he’s said to you all night, twisting the cap off a fresh beer before handing it to you. Then doing the same with his own. You pretend not to notice the movement of it, the few short seconds where you can get away with staring at the shine of silver rings in low light. Taking a sip, you crinkle your nose. 

“I’m not really in the mood,” you mutter and, at the very least, the beer is cold and you chug half of it before you even notice you’ve done it. “Don’t you have someone else you can bother?” 

There’s seconds before you notice it, how his eyes shift from slightly curious to intense. They don’t change much but standing in front of him, you can tell when they go from relaxed to focused. How his back straightens and shoulders roll back just so. You should go and find something stronger to drink. Maybe even see if Lee Fletcher is nearby.

You stay put.

“It’s just a bit of friendly competition,” Luke shrugs, unknowing of how it echoes in your skull. How that’s all today was ever meant to be. Leave it to him to dig the knife in again just as the tightness in your chest was starting to ease. “But I guess you just can’t handle it.” 

“I’d kick your ass in a rematch. I’m doing you a favor.” 

It’s obviously the wrong thing to say, Luke’s eyes brightening as the words push past your lips. The beer you drank way too fast is forming words before you even know what they are.

“You can always choose something else for me to beat you in,” he says, like it’s an offer, something gracious that you should be grateful for. “I’m easy.” 

“How many beers have you had?” 

“Three, I think?” 

Silena would tell you it’s a stupid idea - you have a coaching session at 9am and you haven’t gotten drunk since the party where you met Luke - and she would be right. But you need a win tonight, something guaranteed, and there’s this itch that crawls under your skin the longer you stare at the boy in front of you. 

So you say it anyway. 

“I bet I could outdrink you.” 

“I’d like to see you try.”

He waits as you down two more beers in quick succession, nursing his own as you do. A clink of your bottles against one another, followed by the final sip you each take and it’s finally a competition. 

The night continues, you and Luke almost joined at the hip. It’s to keep track, you tell yourself, talking to a kid that might be in your organic chem class. If the kid looks at you weird for pouring two drinks, only to hand one to Luke in silence, that’s probably just the alcohol misreading things. Only once, when you’re deep in conversation with Lee does Luke pass you a beer, eyebrow raised when Lee gives him a glare. You think that might’ve been drink eight. 

By the time Chris finds you both again, you’ve thrown yourselves onto the couch on the outskirts of the room. Someone’s abandoned coat is thrown over your legs in a mediocre attempt to preserve some dignity in the dress you’re wearing and Luke’s hat has twisted to the side. You’re sure neither of you has drunk a sip in ten minutes.

“You guys doing okay?” 

“We’re drunk,” you say and you can’t tell if it’s a whisper or a shout. “I’m winning.” 

“You’re not winning,” Luke turns his head to glare and you blame the alcohol on the attention you pay to the slope of his nose. “Neither of us have finished these drinks.” 

“Are you going to?” 

He glances down at the cup in his hand, half empty. You can see it, the hesitation, before he places it on the floor by his feet, shaking his head. “Are you?” 

The nice thing to do would be to give up, call it a draw and appreciate that you managed to have fun despite the bad day that had preceded it. However, you like to win. So you grit your teeth before drinking the final three sips, tilting the empty cup towards him so he can see the proof. It takes you a second to remember you have to actually swallow in order to drink, but you do and Luke scrunches his nose. You kind of want to kiss it as a way to smooth the skin back out.

“That’s two wins to me, Castellan.” 

Chris shakes his head at you both. “I’m not calling either of you to make sure you’re alive in the morning.” 

*

It’s an almost unconscious action when you walk into Drew’s sorority house, how you wave Silena off in favor of scanning the crowd, searching for the one reason you agreed to show up in the first place. It takes a moment, pinks and blues and silvers all merging together in your eyeline until you spot him near the staircase, familiar black cap resting on his head. 

You’re already a little buzzed, the thrill of your final project this semester finally being handed in just hours ago, and it’s why you let yourself actually look at Luke for once. 

By this point, you’ve seen him in a polo and a flannel, always with jeans. Laidback. That’s what party Luke was. Tonight, though, it’s like he’s trying harder - baggy pants, like they’re resting a little too low on his hips, a white t-shirt, white trainers that you know are going to stain before the night ends and a slightly oversized leather jacket that doesn’t quite go with the hat you used to identify him. Maybe it’s something he does on purpose, ruining a good thing over comforting familiarity. Maybe you’ll ask him.

Luke looks up then, as if he has a sixth sense, and you kind of don’t know what to do with the slight wave he sends in your direction. You wouldn’t call him a friend, that’s for sure, but you nod in response before weaving through your classmates to the kitchen.

It takes two vodka cranberries for Silena to find you. And it takes four shots with people you’ve never met for Chris to ask if you’ve seen Luke anywhere. You tell him where you last saw him, maybe an hour ago, and he shakes his head like he’s already checked the entire house.

“Do you think you can let him know I’m heading out?” Chris asks, one arm looped around Clarisse’s waist, more for support than anything else. She was already unsteady when you arrived and you know by the flush in her cheeks that it’ll only take a couple more drinks for her to start throwing up. You nod at Chris, cradling your drink to your chest, and he mumbles a thanks while steering his girlfriend towards the door.

With both of them gone, it leaves you with little to do except go hunting for Luke. So that’s what you do, waving Lee off as he attempts to grab your attention from the couch. 

Focusing is a lot harder now, squinting over everyone’s heads in search of that damn hat. Nothing. You know he’s not in the kitchen, that’s definite, and you learn that he’s not in the garden either, Katie from your anatomy class staring at you bewildered as you explain your quest. 

There’s only one place left to check for Luke and you consider if it’ll be a worthwhile risk. It’s entirely possible that he’s already left, whoever he was locked in conversation with earlier with him maybe, and you’re searching an entire sorority house on the off-chance he’s still in the building. 

But you promised Chris. More than that, you refuse to let Luke Castellan beat you.

So you commit to the staircase, pushing past the line for the restroom upstairs. It’s quieter up here, not by much, but you can hear yourself think clearer. There’s three doors on your left, all closed, and you drain the remnants of your drink so it warms your blood and erases the small part of your brain still protesting. 

There’s two yells when you knock on the first door, both hurried and pitching higher as the words fade so you move on quickly. No one answers to the second door, so you crack it open enough to see inside. It’s dark and neat and completely untouched by whatever is happening below, so you let it click shut again. 

Luke is in the third room, you learn, pressing it open when there’s no response to your knock. The room itself is still orderly, but you find the boy you’ve been searching for sitting on the floor at the base of the bed, hat turned to the side and the sleeves of his jacket bunching carelessly where they’ve been pushed higher on his forearms. 

“Chris wanted me to tell you he took Clarisse home,” you blurt when it feels like you need to say something. “He couldn’t find you so…”

Luke waits. When it becomes clear that’s all you’re here for, he says, “Well, thanks for letting me know.” 

You’ve done your job. You can go back and enjoy the party downstairs, maybe make use of the empty room next door instead of remaining awkwardly in the doorway. 

You think about how Chris mentioned that Luke can recite pi to seventeen places while drunk. How you’re still beating him by two points. How there’s an ashtray on the floor beside Luke’s knee and it’s sort of considerate of him to use one when no one else would.

“Mind if I join you?” 

Being in an empty bedroom with a guy at a party isn’t unusual. You’ve had your fair share of them, rushed and quiet and mostly on a bed. Sitting on the floor with Luke is different, you find, a gravity to it than you can’t quite wrap your head around after so many drinks. It’s slow and languid and you don’t really say much of anything as your knee bumps against his thigh in an effort to get comfortable in the space.

No one told you Luke smokes. 

You tell him as much.

“It’s a bad habit,” he shakes his head, twisting a cigarette between his fingers and you both act like you’re not paying rapt attention to it. “I try to avoid making it one.” 

“I used to. Back in high school. Gave it up when I got accepted here.” 

He turns to face you then, head tilted so the visor of his slanted hat brushes his shoulder. “I would never have guessed you were a smoker.” 

It’s not said with judgment, just as an observation from the limited interactions you’ve had since the semester began. The focus in Luke’s gaze crawls up your spine and mingles with the alcohol you’ve yet to flush from your system. 

“You ever blown a smoke ring?” 

If you’re not challenging him, you don’t quite know what to make of Luke. It’s the thing you know most about him, the way his face shifts from victory into loss. The way it matches yours, stretches from his eyes to his jaw and into clenched hands. If you’re not challenging him, you can’t read him - you want to be able to read him in the low light of right now. 

“I bet I’m better at it than you,” you say after he answers. A short laugh escapes him, almost a huff, and it raises the skin on your arms when it meets the top of your ear. “Wanna see?” 

“I’ve only got one.” He waves the cigarette he’s been holding in front of your eyes. 

“We can share.” 

It’s a bad, terrible, absolutely stupid idea. 

“You’re on, Castellan.” 

As he lights the end of it, you wonder if he knows what the brief flame does for his cheekbones, for his jawline. Paints them in small, defined shadows that you might still see if you close your eyes. You almost want to mention it to him. You settle for watching his lips settle around it, the sinking of his cheeks on the inhale and the noise as he exhales. There’s an almost complete ring of smoke in the air.

Luke hands you the cigarette and you repeat his motions, a little quicker. A little smoother. The ring that leaves your lips is full, but less circular. 

Both of you pretend not to notice the other one staring.

You agree to best of three. You agree and you win by the tiniest margin and you hand Luke the little that remains as a consolation prize. He indulges in the last few drags and you watch him do it, looking nothing like the pre-med student you know he is. You think he could be dangerous like this, based on the way your stomach twists as he puts the cigarette out, how his head tilts back and the final wisps of smoke escape his mouth.

You aren’t as drunk anymore. 

You really wish you were.

It takes Luke a second to notice that you’ve moved at all, eyes still closed but he does, and the run of his gaze across your face is enough for you to seize the last of the alcohol in your bloodstream, pushing forward so you’re actually face to face with him, knees digging into the rough carpet beneath you. 

“Can I help you?” It’s low and a little ragged and this is the first time you’ve really noticed the thin, pale scar that stretches down the skin of his right cheek. It’s actually a little insane how pretty he is up close. 

“I think I want a little more than the glory of winning this time,” and half of your whisper is lost to Luke Castellan’s lips but it’s not that important anyway.

What is important is the warmth of his hand through your shirt, pressed into the skin that exposes itself as you shift even closer. It’s the slightly rough texture of his jaw underneath your palm, the way his breath hitches in tandem with yours and you both push through it anyway. It’s the unexpected catch of your finger on his cap and the way you give up on it entirely, finally snatching it off his head so it lands somewhere nearby. 

You’re not sure what you expected Luke’s hair to look like. Horrible, probably, with odd patches that lie weirdly flat and should be covered from view. It’s not this, wild dark curls that deserve to be seen. 

“You have curly hair?” You say it before you can think not to, so caught up in the discovery you’ve just made, and Luke squints at you, unsure. “I can’t believe you have curly hair.” 

He’s preparing a smart-ass comment, you know it by the way his teeth dig into his bottom lip, and that’s really just not going to work this time - not when he’s been lying for months behind a hat. So you do what any sane person would, twist your fingers into the curls at the nape of his neck and trail your lips across his jaw like you’ll die if you don’t.

His hand hooks underneath your thigh and, when you bracket his waist between your legs, cool leather brushing against your knees, you think this might be the best victory you’ve experienced yet.

*

Silena knows something is up when you refuse to speak to her about the party. There’s few secrets you’ve kept from each other since meeting, and even less since Clarisse got involved. It’s pointless to try, mostly, since they all spill out of you when the lights go out and you’re left with each other's company. You almost forgot how annoying she could be when she’s pushing for information.

“Don’t think I’m going to tell you either,” you say when Clarisse joins you in the library a week after the party. “I am a fortress of secrets.” 

“I know you hooked up with Luke.” 

“Seriously?” 

She rolls her eyes, passing you the book you’d asked her for during practice last night. “Calm down. Chris told me. I’m down ten bucks now.” 

“You bet on it?”

“Of course we did, it’s our brand.” 

“I’m not telling Silena,” you whisper again, frowning at your notes. You wonder if Clarisse is aware you haven’t actually spoken to Luke since that night. “She’ll make it a big deal for nothing.” 

“I won’t tell but you should probably figure out what happens next. There’s a party at ksig tomorrow night before everyone goes home for the holidays.” You tap your pen against the textbook. Clarisse pushes a slip of paper towards you. Someone’s phone buzzes to your left. “Think about it.”

When she’s long gone, you grab the paper she left from the table. It’s wrinkled and you smooth it as best you can beneath your fingertips. Blue ink, messily scrawled, and you commit it to memory. Closing your textbook, you leave it pressed between chapters seven and eight. 

The party is loud, louder than you’re prepared for after flaking out on so many since your first one last year. Silena brushes past you once you arrive, shoving your shoulder just enough that it twinges and you frown. You didn’t speak a word on the way here and the silent treatment is starting to drive a little crazy. 

It feels silly now, in a place so crowded, and you breathe deeply. Someone points you in the direction of the kitchen after multiple attempts at asking and you miss the light chaos of throwing up outside the Stolls’ dorm with your best friend. 

You grab a beer, using the table edge to pop the cap off, and it helps to ease the tightness in your chest at how unfamiliar this all is. You’re not sure you could even find the restroom, let alone a singular person.

Pushing back into the bulk of the party, you vow to leave if you don’t find him before you finish your beer. There’s a project you have to start looking into for next semester that could be a good use of time tonight. 

If anyone tried to convince you that most of campus was here, you’d be willing to believe them. A drink raised in Lee’s direction, a nod to Ethan from last years’ stats class, a half-hearted smile at Rachel, who raises an eyebrow at you like she knows something no one else does. 

And maybe she does, because you turn away from her to find Luke just feet away, gesturing animatedly to the guy next to him. There’s a beer in his hand and a hat on his head and his phone number so deeply etched in your mind since last night that you hardly think about it until you’re standing next to him again, drink placed on a table somewhere along the way.

“Hi,” he smiles and his scar shifts with it. He turns to the guy from before. “We’ll catch up later, man.”

“Have I ever told you that I hate that fucking hat?” 

“I sort of got that when you threw it across the room.” His lips wrap around the rim of his bottle and you think you can be normal about it, go back to the way things were, until he smirks just slightly and you know you can’t. 

“You’re such a sore loser, Castellan,” you mutter as you push yourself up to snatch it from his head. He doesn’t comment, lets your fingers brush through his curls until they’re a complete mess instead of compacted. He glances down at the cap in your hand and mutters, “And what is your genius plan for my hat?”

It’s a really fucking good question. Short of getting it off his head, you didn’t know what you were going to do. It’s one thing to throw it across an empty room in the dark, another thing entirely to abandon it to a frat party. So you choose the next best thing - placing it on your own head and daring him to question it. 

“I guess that can work,” Luke says and it sounds like a promise soaked in laughter. 

Neither of you find it as funny when he has to tip the visor upwards to kiss you.

[cyberl33ch]

Spring Fling💋

summary: Your roommate of a couple months decides to ask you out...kind of? What could transpire?

tw: smut MDNI, hopeless romance, drunk/tipsy sex, Abby is g!p, fingering & head.

pairing: G!P Abby x Inexperienced!Florist!Reader

Moving to Seattle wasn’t really the plan but getting out of your small town was exactly what you needed. Don’t get me wrong small towns are cute and everything's laid out for you but seeing the same old faces and going to the same old places gets tiring. And you can’t like getting away from the drama that your ex had caused was what you longed for. But having a hot roommate…you definitely did not plan for it.

Her name was Abby. She was very muscular with sort of a dusty blonde/brunette thing going on obviously the female definition of a dilf. She would go to the gym every morning which would leave you time to have the house to yourself in order to get ready for whichever job you were working. She also happened to pass by every time she was leaving the gym.

Sometimes she would come by and speak just to take a look at the fresh flowers that came in ever so often. You could obviously tell she had a green thumb the way she would cater to the ones in the apartment. Overall she was cool but that all changed randomly when she invited you out, even though you were quite busy with whatever shifts you managed to pick up.

The bell on the front shop door rings announcing someone entering. “Welcome to Bloomscape, what can I help you with?” You say putting down the spray bottle after watering the flowers behind the counter. You turn around to meet none other than Abby. Just your luck. “Oh hey Abby, the new peonies are out front if you’re-” “Would you like to go out with me?” She says, you realize her face is slightly red but you brush it off assuming she had an intense workout today. “Sorry with a couple friends not like…that.” She explains making you nod your head in understanding. Not going to lie that hurt a little bit. Like a slow jab to your heart. “Oh yeah sure…what time?” You question “Around 8pm you should be off by then right?” She asks. You nod your head and after working out the details she leaves rather quickly (and quite flushed if I do say so myself) not even looking at the peonies out front. Weird.

After closing up shop and making your way back to the apartment you walk in to realize she’s already invited her friends over to pregame. Assuming that’s what it was anyway you peek in the living room and say hello. “Hello!” You say as you wave at all 3 of them in the living room. “Oh shit- Guys this is the friend I invited out with us!” She says, gesturing for them to introduce themselves to you. “Hello, I’m Dina, these two shithead's friends.” One says pushing Abby's shoulder. “I’m Ellie.” Another quite attractive one says waving back to you shyly (if i do say so myself) “I’ll go get ready, nice to meet you guys!” You walk to your room and before you can even shut the door you hear Ellie saying that you’re “Smoking hot.” Smiling ear to ear you close the door before you can hear any further and start to get ready.

You walk out of your room and walk into the kitchen going in the fridge to search for a beer. When you feel a hand on your waist you jolt up meeting Abby. “Hey calm down darlin’.” She almost laughs out and hands you a beer knowing you’re searching for one. You take the beer smiling slightly, thanking her and closing the fridge. After an hour of pregaming you they decide it’s time to go to the bar. “Everybody set to go?” Abby questions looking at everyone grabbing her keys.

Hour 2 in the bar Dina and Ellie are the only ones looking groggy and soggy but you and Abby are having the time of your lives. You never knew that you and Abby had so much music taste in common. As the night started to grow older and older they started to play slower, more romantic music. You take your seat at the bar sipping your drink by Dina and Ellie who are both by now practically eye fucking each other.

You were about to go outside for a smoke when your thought was interrupted by a light tap on your shoulder. “Hey, do you mind dancing with me?” Abby asks with her face growing more red by the second. “Uh yeah of course” You smile. As soon as you two hit the middle of the floor she immediately puts her hands on your waist pulling you closer to her. You look up at her with big doe eyes and that’s when you start to feel the liquor finally hit you because she looks good enough to eat at this moment. She nuzzles your neck as your bodies practically become one. “I need you.” She whispers in your ear making you gasp which gives her enough time to slip her tongue into your mouth and take you in a devastating kiss.

As she pulls back from your lips you shoot her a confused look. “I thought you-” She shushes you putting her finger up to your lips. “Take a cab with me.” Abby demands taking your hand interlocking your fingers with hers as she makes her way through the sea of people on the dance floor. She gets up to the bar giving Ellie enough money to get a cab and pay for the drinks. As she reaches the outside she pauses for a moment taking in the cool spring breeze compared to the hot atmosphere of the bar. You’ve never really taken a moment to really soak in Abby’s features. Her hair which she rarely let down blowing with the wind. And oh gosh- her nose looks like you could ride that for days at a time.

You get so taken up in your thoughts you didn’t realize she was staring right back at you. “Can I have my face back?” She jokes you lightly jabbing her shoulder. “Jeez, I’m just joking…that hurt a bit.” Abby says pouting and rubbing her shoulder softly. “Aw, is the baby hurt?” You say mocking her pouting and rubbing your shoulder. “Yeah yeah whatever lets start walking weirdo.” She says rolling her eyes rather sassily.

Weirdo. Weirdo? WEIRDO?? “You want to talk about weird? Let’s talk about how you always treat me like a little sister and then randomly kiss me.” You sass back at her, narrowing your eyes as you two begin your journey back to the apartment. “I’ll do it again.” Abby treats this as if were a threat to your safety as she can’t seem to choose between looking at your lips or your eyes. “Whatever sass-factor!” You roll your eyes at her crossing your arms.

Back at the apartment you assume you two are just going to go your separate ways again like this never happened.“So…we just go our separate ways?” You mumble out just above a whisper as your vision starts to blur from tearing up. “What if we didn’t?” Abby says taking a step closer to you. “What if?” You accept the challenge, taking another step towards her. Abby pulls you closer by your waist and takes off your jacket for you, discarding it on the sofa. Followed by taking off her own and dropping it right by her feet. “What if?” She quirks an eyebrow staring straight at your glossy lips. After that she just couldn’t play this little game you were playing with her anymore as she takes you in another breathtaking kiss and lifts you up like you’re nothing.

You straddling her waist as she sets you down on the bed, her kneeling in front of you making full eye contact as she takes off your shoes for you. She looks up at you resting her hands on your thighs. “Do I have your consent?” Abby asks, peering into your eyes. God's consent is sexy. “Yes.” You nod. Abby follows this with sliding down your underwear and pinning you to the mattress, her on top of you. She then takes two fingers and taps on your lips asking demanding for entrance. “Suck.” She orders as you open your mouth and swirl your tongue around her digits.

“Good girl” She praises. She then takes them out of your mouth leaving a string of saliva as she lifts up your dress and starts to coat her fingers in your arousal and insert them up until her knuckles. The length of her fingers makes you immediately grab her wrist moaning. “Fuck! Abby…” You pant out as she starts to pick up the pace, shouting her name like it’s a mantra. “Thaaat’s it baby take it.” She affirms as the knot in your stomach comes undone faster and faster. “Gonna cum…” You mumble out making her grab your chin realizing she wants to see your reaction as you eat up the pleasure she was dishing out.

As you feel your release coating her fingers and your surroundings becoming more and more fuzzy by the second. You sit up seeing her licking her fingers clean making full eye contact with you. By the time her fingers are practically wrinkly from the hydration they were getting she turns you around and starts unlacing your dress. Grazing her fingertips lightly on the skin of your back. “Your skin is so soft…” Abby says just above a whisper.

She starts kissing you and leaving little love bites and marks that’ll surely bruise in the morning. You hear her start to strip behind you and just as she’s taking off her boxers you get a good glimpse of what’s to come. And you start to turn around and make full contact with her long, thick, blushed precum dripping shaft. More so gawking at it because she definitely noticed while taking off her shirt.

“You wanna touch it?” She asks, reaching out to grab your hand, as she guides your hand onto the base of it. “Don’t be scared mama.” Abby chuckles, still guiding your hand to slowly stroke it making her grunt. As she slowly softens her grip and lets you take control, throwing her head back in pleasure grunting loudly. She grabs your chin absentmindedly removing your hand and picking up the pace as her eyes sear into your soul as she motions for you to open your mouth.

Followed by multiple grunts and curses she finally releases ropes of herself onto your tongue. As you close your mouth and swallow the liquid. “Hands and knees” Abby demands with low lidded eyes. You follow her instructions in a daze as she grabs a hold on your hips, forcing you to arch your back. Abby cautiously slides the tip in after realizing how tight you were, grunting in pleasure as a response. “Fuuuck” She mumbles out her eyes closed as you squeeze around her length. As she takes her time inch by inch she eventually bottoms out. This feels good of course but she can hear you whimper as you taste the saltiness of your tears.

Abby slowly starts to pick up a steady pace as you start to reach back trying to slow her down as the tears come down more frequently. “Nuh uh baby you can take it” She says in between grunts swatting your hand away as you grip the sheets. As her pace quickens she pulls you up by your shoulder, taking that hand and wrapping it around your throat. She then takes her other hand from your hip and starts rubbing your sensitive clit.

Your eyes roll back in your head as she tops that off by kissing your neck, knowing by the way you were growing louder she knew you were close to your orgasm. Abby reaches an unimaginable pace and that’s when you feel it hit you like a tsunami. As you feel her warm seed fill you up and mix with yours you finally come down from the drunken, fuzzy high you two were in. You feel her pull out and the mix of you guys’ climax slide down your legs.

After you two showered together and put on pajamas you both lie in the bed, her spooning you. You’ve dozed off a while ago as she just admires your beauty in the moonlit room. Brushing the hair out of your face, she pecks your temple and dozes off along with you.

my masterlist

(tell me in my ask my anything's if you have a request!)

[rustedhearts]

i can't quit you, baby (70s!steve harrington x fem!reader)

summary: steve doesn't like the thought of you spending time with another man while he's gone. but doesn't steve know?—he's the only man for you.

uses she/her pronouns and female anatomy.

✶ rolly's roller wheels ✶ blurbs ✶ the only living boy in indiana

tags: smoking but in such a sexy way, jealous steve, fluff, smut-ish at the end, just something short and sweet. ignore that it changes tense like halfway through, I simply cannot edit right now.

for thea ⭐️ thought 70s!steve deserved a little love. hope you enjoy! thank you for supporting me <3

wc: 1,204

august 1978

The windows are open when Steve gets home, letting in sticky summer air and blaring horns from the street below. Your new apartment was two stories above a busy Indianapolis street, and with that came all the city noises that you still struggled to sleep through four months post-move. And without sleep, you became restless.

Without Steve, you became restless. And a combination of both—after busy work days for Steve that kept him from dinner and bed—you were absolutely insatiable.

"Sweetheart?" Steve calls, dropping his keys on the coffee table on his way to the kitchen. "Where are you—oof!"

You throw yourself into his arms, knocking him off kilter until he braces himself on the wall. He envelops you once he registers the assault, chuckling into your neck.

"Hey, honey. Missed me?"

You sigh contently, rubbing your cheek on his cologne-and-sweat-scented chest. "Mhmmm."

"Well gimme a kiss then, sugar."

You giggled on your journey toward his mouth, kissing it with eager tongue and a little whine. You're barely five seconds in before Steve furrows his brows and pulls away, nudging you back by the waist. Eyes fluttering open, you frown at him and try to tug him close.

"Why do you taste like that?"

You laugh again. "What?"

Steve narrows his eyes. "Whose cigarettes have you been smoking? Huh? They're not mine."

Cheeks warm, you wriggle out of Steve's grasp and pluck the rag you were dusting with from the counter. "What? I haven't been—"

"C'mere. C'mere, sweetheart, who've you been smokin' with?"

Steve follows you, and you giggle through the scampering cat-and-mouse chase around the living room.

"Steve, I haven't—no, no!"

He catches you when you attempt to leap over the coffee table, one strong arm anchored around your waist. He pulls you down, sweeping you to his side and spinning you around until you're giggling and batting at his hands.

Steve decides to spare you and sets you on your feet, waiting until you've caught your breath and your cheeks stop hurting before tugging you close by the chin. He kisses you again, firmer and with writhing tongue.

When he pops away, he shakes his head and huffs. "I fuckin' knew it—Camels. Whose fuckin' Camels have you been smokin'?"

"What?" You place your fingers on your lips again. "How can you even tell that?"

Steve wags a finger in your face. "I know my smokes, honey, and you're avoiding the question."

Sighing, you retrieve the rag from where it fell on the floor and take it to the end table to dust under the magazines.

"I was hanging out with Dalton earlier. We had a smoke on the roof."

Steve's hands find his hips, eyes following your ministrations throughout the room. "Oh, you 'hung out?' You just hung out with some dude while I was at work?"

“Not some ‘dude,’” you argue, eyes rolling into the lamp shade that you readjust. “He’s one of the only neighbors that’s introduced himself, and that’s actually been nice.”

Steve tips his chin down, eyes slanting to a glare. “Yeah, because he wants to get in your pants.”

“I resent that, Steve Harrington—and why would you think sharing a cigarette with him would mean anything?”

Your boyfriend mutters under his breath, and when you turn with a quirked and accusative brow, he grumbles and turns on his heel. He stomps into the kitchen, where you hear the rattle of the refrigerator and the hiss of a beer can opening soon after.

“I don’t like that you’re here hangin’ out with random guys while I’m gone,” he calls through the wall.

“Excuse me, what year are we living in? We didn’t move to the city so I could be the little woman, Steve—“

“I never said that!”

Your bare feet pad into the room, where it’s your turn to pop your hand on your hip and glare at him.

“It was implied.”

Sometimes, it was hard to remember the days when Steve was just your best friend. The best friend that teased and ridiculed you, and the best friend you teased and ridiculed back. Until moments like this when it all came flooding back. When you fixed him with an attitude and a fiery stare akin only to when he forgot to pick you up from school in the snow, or said something stupid and out of line when you were eighteen years old.

You were grown now, but he didn’t seem any smarter.

Steve’s tongue clicks on the roof of his mouth, sweetened with his first sip of Miller Lite. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t trying to imply that, sweetheart. I just…—it just makes me….—I just feel—“

“Jealous?”

Steve lifts his hand in an empty gesture. It smacks down onto his thigh when he drops it, shoulders shrugging shortly after.

“Yeah! Yeah, maybe I am.”

Your glare coils into a cocky smirk, teeth digging into your lip. You drop your hand from your hip and step his way.

"Aw, Stevie," you coo, words dripping with mockery. "How cute—"

"Psh," he scoffs, head turning when you come to brace it with your hands. "Yeah, yeah."

"You're jealous of the neighbor? That's sweet, Steve, really."

He tips his head back to the ceiling and shakes it. "Jesus, you're not gonna let this go."

You take the new position as an invitation to press your mouth against his neck. He swallows under your touch, fingers curling tighter around the countertop behind him. Your teeth scrape the soft and musky flesh of his throat, giggling when he shivers. You press a firm, open-mouthed kiss to his jaw, under his ear, down the column of his throat, over his collarbone at the top of a tight navy t-shirt. He's so full and muscular these days, and you can't help but run your hands over the broadness of his pecs.

Steve's hands fall to your ass, sliding into the back pocket of your jeans. You squeak, squished up against his front when he tugs you in.

"Only want you smoking my cigarettes," Steve demands, voice hoarse with arousal.

You guide your mouth back up to his ear, kissing the shell of it delicately. "Okay, honey."

"Promise?"

You pull back enough to meet his eye, and flash him a smile. "Promise. Now, you gonna show me how jealous you are, or what?"

Steve chuckles, tongue prodding the inside of his cheek. "Go grab my smokes for me first. By the door, hmm? Wanna see how pretty your lips look wrapped around one."

You pause. It's your turn to swallow, cheeks warm as you stumble back. Steve's grin is salacious and sideways, head tipping to nudge the other way.

"Go on, baby."

Steve steals the Winston from your mouth just as you're climbing into his lap, deciding you look prettier without it. But before the smoke can leave your mouth, he grabs a fistful of your hair at the back of your head and seals his lips over yours. He steals it from your lungs, sitting back against the headboard with a grin when you whimper.

"Tastes much better than Camels," he muses.

And watching Steve leisurely smoke a Winston is all the encouragement you need to keep bouncing in his lap.

[tangylemonade]

NO ONE ELSE

Jeonghan x afab reader

(The reader wears feminine clothes and is referred to as pretty etc.)

18+ MINORS DNI (istg 🫵🏾 ಠ_ಠ if I catch you)

Word count: 9.7k

꧁ ☂︎ (angst) & ⚠︎ (smut) w/ a pinch of ☁︎ (fluff) ꧂

WARNING: unprotected sex (don't forget the casing before you stuff your sausage), kidnapping, cursing, description of abuse, Jeonghan smokes, Jeonghan’s in a gang, mentions of injuries, reader has toxic parents. Please let me know if I missed anything.

P.s. I am aware that it’s no longer recommended to wrap fractured ribs but my goodness let me have this （•‿•）

You were never a one night stand kind of person.

It felt too… vulnerable. Too scary.

You didn’t know how to just give yourself to someone you don’t even know. To trust them with a raw view of you. To trust them with something so intimate.

It had been a long week. A long month. A long year.

You were beyond exhausted and quite honestly ready for a change.

Falling asleep filled with that expensive bottle of wine you never felt special enough to drink you woke up with a fire in your heart. A spark that needed kindling.

And now on this tepid Wednesday morning while you laid in bed long past your alarm you felt more energized than ever.

Getting up you showered before finally checking your phone. Your boss called and you had a few text messages from your coworkers.

You lied about being up all night with fever and called out sick. You’d never done anything of the sorts before so no one even questioned it. One coworker even offered to bring you soup which you politely declined.

You did a face mask that claimed to plump your skin and after that you put on a little makeup. Standing in a lingerie set you bought at some point for a boyfriend you never even slept with, you tried on your only pair of heels.

No one would see you like this tonight except yourself but you didn’t mind at all. It still made you feel sexy, something you hardly thought about yourself.

Digging in the depths of your closet you found that one dress you kept tucked away for special occasions. Your heart did a little flip thinking that maybe it didn’t fit anymore but thankfully with a little shimmy as you pulled up the form fitting dress it still fit like a glove.

Catching a glimpse of yourself in the mirror on the way out the door you did a double take. The dress fit you perfectly, accentuating your every curve nicely. Your hair was done and all together with some makeup on you felt pretty. The prettiest you’d felt in a long long time.

You couldn’t help smiling.

Rasasy was a small restaurant that you’d often pass by but never went into. It always looked lovely and quaint and the scent would carry through the street making you hungry on your way home.

It was quiet with a few people enjoying their dinners while chatting away happily with their partners.

The food took its time coming as it was cooked upon order but it was completely worth it.

Taking another bite you looked around taking in the atmosphere. Soft piano music was playing quietly and the booth you were sitting in was warm and cozy.

You found yourself looking to see if you were the only person eating alone. In a beat your eyes locked with a man who must’ve been the most beautiful person you’d ever seen. Sitting alone at the table to your right he took a sip of his red wine before giving you a disarming smile.

Without too much unnecessary thought you smiled at him and went back to your meal with your heart a flutter.

When you were finished you called the waitress to ask for the check. While you waited you glanced over at the beautiful man’s table but he was gone.

Your heart sank a bit and you shook your head laughing at yourself. What would you even say anyway?

“The bill was already paid for.” The waitress said with a smile.

“Paid for? Why? By who?” you said.

Somehow you already knew.

“The gentleman at table 3. He requested that you’d be given this note as well.”

“Thank you.” You whispered, feeling a little giddy.

The waiter simply smiled with a knowing twinkle in her eyes before heading away.

You waited until you got in your car, buckled in, started it, and took a deep breath before mustering the courage to unfold the note and read it.

-

Hello gorgeous

I didn't want to bother you because you looked so peaceful. I’d love to join you next time.

Jeonghan

+82-3-067-1005

-

The handwriting was a little sloppy yet had a unique elegance to it.

As you moved the paper you caught a whiff of a heavenly scent. Was that how he smelt?

Something regal…like an aromatic green tea and…. cigarettes. Not the cheap kind, the expensive ones that smelled sweet and warm.

“Oh who am I kidding.” You said to yourself with a wistful sigh before tucking the note into your bag. You often talked to yourself aloud to sort your thoughts.

“The lighting at the restaurant was very dim and romantic. Maybe he’s just drunk and lonely. Maybe he’s just playing a game. Maybe he has fun every night and I seemed like an easy target because I was alone and looked pitiful.”

But then a different thought popped into your head.

It came as a whisper.

‘Maybe… just maybe he wants to get to know me.’

The little thought echoed through your head silencing the others while turning your face vibrant with warmth.

Tomorrow. You’d call tomorrow.

☾

Pacing back and forth you couldn’t decide when the moment was right.

What if he thinks you’re a freak for calling so early? Maybe you should wait another day so you don’t seem desperate. Maybe you should’ve called last night and he doesn't even remember you. Maybe you could just text him? Maybe…

You hit call and squeezed your eyes shut while the phone rung.

“Hello?”

A voice filled your ear, soft and smooth

“Oh sorry Hi! Uhm this is Y/N. From last night. You gave me your number…” you heard yourself starting to ramble and wanted to die.

“Wow! I didn’t think you’d call.”

Your face fell in horror.

“Oh my I’m so sorry I-“

“I’m happy you did. I was sure you thought I was a weirdo or something. I felt so stupid but I figured you were worth the try.”

Your words caught in your throat while you tried to process everything.

“Hello? Are you still there?” He asked tentatively over the line.

“Yeah.”

Your words came out in a bit of a whisper.

“Perfect! So… do you want to get coffee or…”

“Yeah. Oh uhm yeah coffee would be- I could always drink coffee.”

“Are you busy? We could meet up today?”

“No, I'm off. How about Colvers? It’s new but I heard they make good coffee and the sandwiches aren’t half bad.”

“That sounds great! How does 2:30 sound?”

“Great!”

You caught yourself sounding a little too enthusiastic and tried to tone it down. “So.. I’ll uhm see you there?”

“See you.” He said with a light chuckle before hanging up.

A date. You have a date. A beautiful, gorgeous date.

“I’m gonna vomit!” you declared, collapsing on your bed with a groan.

You laid there for a little bit playing in your hair and suddenly giggling like a little school girl before hopping up and heading to the shower. You hummed the whole way through as you dolled yourself up and sorted through your things in an attempt to find the best and prettiest casual clothing you owned.

Checking the time you did your final touches before rushing out the door in fear of being late even though you were leaving early.

You arrived 30 minutes early and thanked god for your insight because it was a little busy but you still managed to find a good table.

You ordered their signature sandwich as a late breakfast, hoping you could finish it before he got there.

The sandwich took a little while to come but god was it worth it. You chewed with your eyes closed, savoring the warm and spicy goodness.

“Can I have a bite?”

You nearly choked as your eyes flew open at the sound of a smooth and sultry voice.

You quickly chewed and swallowed, taking a swig of your water. Your eyes pricked with tears as you forced the not fully masticated bite down.

“Have you considered filming a commercial? The way you’re eating makes that look really good.” He said with a smile that made you feel a little (a lot) hot around the collar.

“Sorry. I skipped breakfast.” You sort of mumbled as you self-consciously set your sandwich on your plate. “I don't drink coffee well on an empty stomach so I figured I’d eat before you got here.”

“Same. Can I have a bite?”

You blinked at him. “A bite?”

“Can’t I?” He did a head tilt that would’ve seemed innocent if not for that sparkle in his dark brown eyes.

You nodded slowly and slid the plate towards him with a hand that was now shaking a bit.

He picked up the sandwich, turning it around and looking at it before taking a bite right where you had.

Your mouth watered as you watched him chew.

Fighting yourself to look back at his eyes you saw something mischievous reflecting back at you that sent your skin fluttering with goosebumps.

He chewed slowly before swallowing and swiping the corner of his lips with his thumb.

“This really is good.”

“Yeah uhm.. do you want to order one…” you said, raising your hand to call the waiter.

He grabbed your hand and pulled it down to the table with a smile.

“Nah it’s okay. I’ll just steal more of yours, only if you don’t mind of course.”

He looked at you waiting for a response.

“Oh I don’t mind.” You said, not entirely sure why it didn’t bother you when you weren’t normally a big sharer. That was one of the reasons you were so lonely. It feels hard to give these days.

The waiter brought over an icy glass, setting it in front of Jeonghan and physically cutting the tension that was building as you watched him take another bite.

He sipped the cold glass of tea, his pink lips wrapping around the straw.

“What is it?” You asked as you picked up the sandwich and took a bite, your bite overlapping with his. You internally rolled your eyes as your heart did a little skip. What were you, in grade school?

But why did the sandwich taste even better this time?

“Iced green tea w/ honey and half cream. It’s good.” He said while pushing the glass towards you.

“Ohh sounds good.”

You weren’t sure if it really did sound good or if the thought of wrapping your own lips around his straw was clouding your common sense.

What in the world was this man doing to your dormant and CLEARLY desperate body?

You hesitated for a moment, looking up at him and catching his gaze again.

Without a second thought you put your lips around his straw taking a quick sip, the cool drink washing through your now hot body.

Jeonghan watched you for your reaction and you could’ve sworn you saw his eyes flicker to your pursed lips.

“Oh it is good. Maybe I should order that instead of a coffee.” You said. The tea was not too sweet and pleasantly refreshing.

“I’m telling you. You have a future in advertising.” He said with a shake of his head and a dangerous smile. So charming it disarmed you and suddenly you were smiling too.

If you from a week ago saw you now she would have a heart attack.

You didn’t end up ordering your own tea. You shared his drink with him leaning in to take sips and exchange wistful conversation.

Here you were sitting with a complete stranger sharing spit before you even learned each other's last names.

☾

“So tell me more about yourself? What do you do for work?” He asked, walking alongside you, his hand gently brushing into yours as you stepped in sync.

It was a beautiful day and Jeonghan had suggested a park date. You went on a couple dates before but you always picked activities. Not as much talking time as there was physical bonding like pottery classes and movies. You two finished a quick picnic of sandwiches before going for the walk. It felt nice to talk with him in such a relaxed way as you strolled side by side along the sunny path.

“I work in banking.” You said with shrug

“Ohhh sounds fun.” He teased.

You laughed. “Ehh. It’s not bad and it pays well enough. What about you?”

You did a quick intake of the man walking beside you.

His shoulder length black hair was silky and smelled of a soft warm scent every time he turned his head to talk to you.

His slender stature was fitted in crisp yet simple black jeans and tee that you knew could only be from an expensive store.

“Family business. Nothing exciting like banking but hey.” He said with a chuckle.

“That’s nice! It's just me here so it can get pretty lonely.”

“Even with family it can also get pretty lonely. Do you have any close friends?”

You shrugged before awkwardly laughing “Do you count?”

Jeonghan playfully knocked his shoulder into yours. “Absolutely I do.”

You stopped and looked at him, smiling softly before shaking your head.

“What?” He said with his signature head tilt.

“What planet are you from Yoon Jeonghan?”

He laughed and turned his body fully towards you, leaning against a nearby tree. “What do you mean?”

“You’re just such…a- a.”

“Weirdo?”

You laughed. “What? No! You’re such a treat.”

His smile dropped a bit before quickly lifting into a smirk. You saw an indistinguishable emotion in his eyes that was gone as quickly as it appeared.

“Sorry. It’s just I- I’ve sortve been living in this weird little me bubble and the one day I suddenly decided to pop it you showed. It felt like fate… I mean you’re just so lovely…” Your voice trailed off. Your face was burning bright as Jeonghan's eyes watched you intently.

The breeze flittered his hair into his face as if it too couldn’t resist the desire to caress him.

“You’re trouble aren’t you?” He asked in an almost whisper.

“What? Me? Hardly. Besides, I’m not the one giving my phone number on flirty notes to strangers.” You smiled, playfully poked his arm as you spoke.

“Well a beauty like you is non-ignorable. I had no choice.”

“No choice huh.” You continued to quip in an attempt to distract your body from its desire to overheat in Jeonghan's intoxicating presence.

“What? Do you just hit on every pretty girl you see?”

He held your hand that you hadn't realized was still resting on his arm and pulled you closer to him.

“Oh! That reminds me…” he said, moving his right hand and puling something from his pocket.

It was a small blue box that he opened right away and showed you.

You gasped. “These are so beautiful Jeonghan. I can’t-“

“You most certainly can. And you can put them in right now.”

“No. I can’t except something so expensive.”

“It’s okay, I won them at a work raffle. I promise it’s okay.”

“Jeonghan…”

“Please. I wasn’t going to wear them anyway.” He said with a soft chuckle. “Besides, they would look too beautiful on you for anyone else to wear them.”

Carefully he placed the gift in your hands and rested his hands on your waist, holding you close.

You looked at the breathtakingly gorgeous emerald green studs a moment longer before carefully placing them in your ears. You didn’t own a single piece of jewelry. It was one of those luxuries you buy do for yourself and no one had ever gifted you.

Emotions swelled in your heart as you looked into Jeonghan’s eyes.

His gaze was so intense you thought you might combust on sight.

The sun was setting, painting a heavenly glow against his smooth gorgeous skin.

You leaned in before he did your lips touching his. He pulled you even closer to his invitingly warm chest as he fell into your lips embrace. Pulling back he cradled your face and gazed at you for a moment. Again his lips devoured yours as the kisses quickly filled you with ecstasy.

Eventually you both had to take a moment to breathe, his soft breath tickling your nose as he rested his forehead to yours.

You lifted your hand to his cheek while your other hand's fingers laced through the silky hair at the nape of his neck, pulled him in for another delicious taste.

His kisses spread heat through your body leaving you feeling dizzy and thoughtless.

He was completely and totally intoxicating. Green tea and cigarettes mixed with a soft scent you now knew to be him.

The tickle of his tongue on your lips was a magic spell telling your body to open to him and you complied. You pressed into him craving more as his nimble fingers pushed patterns into your skin like a sinful tattoo.

“Wow.” You whispered breathlessly.

He laughed. “I agree.”

Jeonghan looked up at the dimming sky.

“When did it get so late?” He said, concern evident in his voice. “ Let me drive you home.”

“What about my car then? I’ll text you when I get home, okay?” You were still feeling loopy off of him and couldn’t stop smiling.

“Then let me walk you to your car.”

You nodded, grabbing his hand and walking alongside him with a smile still warming your face.

☾

Jeonghan would sometimes text you good morning messages that had you feeling all giddy throughout the day. You found yourself smiling so much your coworker giggled and whispered to you “Someone is getting laid huh?”

“Oh stop.” You said swatting her away from you as you blushed thinking about how good Jeonghan probably could make you feel if his kisses had you this buzzed.

A couple weeks blew by and you talked nearly every day, both of you being too busy to meet up.

Holding your takeout in one hand and your bag and keys in the other you hummed while you tried to maneuver your house key into your hand.

A chilling breeze alerted your skin with goosebumps and you felt uneasy. Turning around you didn’t see anything out of the ordinary so you quickly and anxiously opened your door and ran inside. You locked both locks while trying to steady your pounding heart. Just then your phone rang causing you to nearly jump out of your skin.

You checked the caller ID. Why was Jeonghan calling so late? He never called at this time.

“Jeonghan?” You said through the line.

“Are you okay?” He said quickly, his voice sounding quick and low.

“Yeah I’m okay. I just got home. About to eat dinner.”

“Can I see you?”

“Now!?”

“Is that okay?”

“Well…”

“Sorry I didn’t mean to inconvenience you. Just…you’re okay right?”

“Yeah I’m okay. Why? What’s going on?” You asked, your voice sounding as shaky as you were feeling.

“No reason. I’ll leave you to your dinner-“

“No! I mean- uhm…come over.”

“Are you sure?”

He sounded so exhausted and it made your heart pang.

“Of course. I’ll text you my address.”

It was more than just wanting to see him, you were still feeling scared and you couldn’t shake the uneasiness despite telling yourself that you were just being silly. You wanted Jeonghan to hold you and make everything okay.

You paced back and forth in your kitchen until you heard the *pling* *pling* of your doorbell. You rushed to check through the peephole, the pit in your stomach beginning to unknot at the sight of the beloved man standing outside, his hair blowing in the night air, obscuring his face .

You quickly opened the door with a smile on your face.

“Come in, it's freezing out.” You said pulling him in by his hand without another look.

He kicked off his shoes hurriedly as you pulled him all the way into your kitchen and ran to the pan you had heating on the stove.

“Sit down. Did you eat dinner? I got takeout. It’s nothing fancy but I was just about to eat. It’s probably cold now so I’m just gonna heat it up except my microwave is broken and so I have to use a pan which actually is better because then it tastes…”

You had your back to him while you rambled and you suddenly felt his slender arms wrap around you, cutting your words short as they fell back down your throat, transforming into butterflies in your stomach.

He rested his head on your shoulder and let out a sigh that sounded like he had the weight of the world crushing him.

“Jeonghan?” You held his hand and tried to turn around but he gently held you still.

Looking down you noticed his knuckles. They were bruised and bloodied!

“Are you okay?” You asked, worry flipping your heart and sending it pounding against your rib cage.

After turning off the stove you grabbed his arm and this time he didn’t resist as you lifted it, turning toward him.

A gasp fell from your lips at the sight of his beautiful face…battered and bruised. He licked his busted, swollen lip and smiled at you, wincing a bit from the pain.

“Oh my god! How did I not…Jeonghan what happened!” Your hands flew up to his face but only hovered, scared to hurt him any more than he already was. Jeonghan grabbed your hands, pulling them close and resting them on his chest, against his pounding heart.

“Family troubles.” He said with a crooked smile.

You sat him down at your table before quickly leaving to grab your first aid kit.

Opening the box you hesitated as you looked at the over-supplied kit your coworker bought you as a housewarming gift unsure what to even use.

“An ice pack would be great.” He said, helping you along with a humorous lilt to his voice that didn’t fit the situation.

“Right, sorry.”

You quickly rushed to your freezer and grabbed your ice pouch you bought at some point for your headaches and quickly tossed it to the back of your freezer when you realized it was of no help.

Gently you brought it to his cheek, pressing it slowly to gauge his pain.

“Sorry.” You said pulling back when he winced. “Does that hurt too much?”

“Not when you do it.”

He smiled again, gently holding on to your waist.

“Sorry. You’ll have to hold this while I clean your lip.”

He took the ice pack, his warm fingers playing with your now cold ones.

Grabbing ointment you put some on a cotton swab before leaning over and dabbing it gently on his pretty lips.

You looked up at Jeonghan, your eyes meeting his as he looked down at you.

In an attempt to catch your breath when you first arrived home you had unbuttoned a few buttons of your blouse. Right now he had a clean view down your shirt and into your barely there bralet that you wore on long days because bras drove you crazy and this one was comfortable. Comfortable and basically see through.

You didn’t mind at all and made no effort to move as you continued tending to his cuts.

“Anything else?” So asked softly.

You noticed a bruise peaking through the black silk of his shirt.

Jeonghan stared at you for a moment thinking through his next course of action. With a pensive expression he unbuttoned his shirt all the way, revealing litters of purple marks all over his upper torso.

“Oh m- Jeonghan, I'm not a doctor! You need to go to the hospital.” You felt tears stinging your eyes as the night's emotions already began to bubble over.

“No need. Nothing's broken. I’ll be fine.” He held your hand as he spoke, giving it a reassuring squeeze.

You felt his warm body shiver as you delicately traced the injuries on his skin with cool fingers. Jeonghan rested his hand on your hips, tentatively pulling you closer.

“I feel better already.” Jeonghan whispered.

His low voice sent tingles through every fiber of your essence.

“Jeonghan. What happened? Please...”

His hands rushed to your face, cradling it and catching your falling tears with his thumb.

“There are things that need to be done. When they don’t get done it’s only natural to pay the price.”

“What does that mean Jeonghan?” Frustration twisted with worry in your voice. “Do you need help?”

He shook his head.

“It means that I will do everything within my power to keep you safe.”

“Jeonghan…You’re scaring me.”

“It’s gonna be okay y/n.”

He sweetly gazed up at you, stroking your cheek. You found yourself leaning closer, seeking the warmth and comfort you knew he could give you.

Your lips touched, not as a kiss but rather to simply feel each other, the emotions passing between you stronger than words could understand.

With a tilt of Jeoghans chin he kissed you softly at first against your trembling lips. His hands firmly pulled you closer, your body slotting between his legs as he deepened the kiss. Your tongue caressed his bottom lip and you tasted his blood in your mouth as he opened himself to you desperately.

His fingers hungrily wandered, leaving fire in their path.

Immediately undoing the rest of your buttons you slid your shirt off your shoulders, dropping it on the floor beside Jeoghans.

His hands squeezed your thighs encouraging you to straddle him.

“Are you..” you could barely speak as Jeonghan continued kissing you. “…sure it won’t…mhhh…hurt?

His only response was a moan against your lips before he pulled you into his lap, putting an end to your hesitation. Feeling worrisome about touching his injured body you laced your fingers through his hair.

Your hips took the lead pressing against the hardness that was growing in his slacks. He groaned into your neck where he had now begun to kiss and suck the sensitive skin, a moan vibrating against your throat.

Jeoghan placed your hands against his chest, letting you know that it was okay to touch him.

Your skirt was now lifted and sitting at your hips leaving only the thin barrier of your underwear now dampened with your arousal. Sliding down your bralette he littered your breast with licks and kisses.

Undoing the button of his pants your shaky hands struggled with the zipper before finally pulling his cock from the dreadfully difficult blockade that was his clothing.

“Fuck…” he breathed against your skin as you gently circled his tip, collecting the percum and stroking down his length.

His hands shot down to your aching core seeking to return the favor. He played with your swollen bud over damp underwear earning moans from you that had his cock twitching in your grasp. He slid your panties aside, slowly slipping two fingers into you.

Jeonghans hands were as nimble and graceful as they looked and you wondered if you would last much longer.

He pulled from inside leaving you aching with protest before you felt the tease of his tip to your dripping pussy lips. Standing to make it easier you watched as he guided his pretty pink cock into you, his length slowly disappearing until you were back flush against his lap.

With how long it had been since your last relation combined with his delicious size, you weren’t surprised by the pain of the stretch. Your eyebrows furrowed as you adjusted. Jeonghan kissed the corner of your lips, his hands massaging your hips while you breathed through the moment. Despite the twitch of his cock which you felt against your sensitive walls Jeonghan didn’t move, allowing you to take the lead.

He buried his face into your breasts, a string of swear words on his breath as your tight walls squeezed his throbbing cock.

When you began to rock he had to fight to steady his breathing before he blew it right then and there.

It truly had been too long for you. It didn’t take much more of his cock pressing all the right spaces in you before an orgasm came pulsing through your body. Jeonghan struggled to focus as he fought through the euphoric feeling of your fluttering pussy so that he could watch the scene that was you unraveling against him.

The beauty of your flushed face, kiss swollen lips, dazed eyes, and your softly furrowed brows had Jeonghan seeing stars.

You rested your head on his shoulder as you caught your breath.

Jeonghan waited until your heart calmed against him before he secured your hips in his hands and began lifting into you.

Shivers flittered down Jeonghan's spine as you moaned loud and clear in his ear.

Your feeling of overstimulation washed into the building of pleasure once again.

His hips began to stutter as he built closer to his release. You moved along with him and it wasn’t long before your walls were squeezing and pulsing around him again, this time pulling his orgasm into you in hot ropes. He rutted inside a few more times before wrapping his arms around your body and holding you close. You both began to settle from your high, the reality of the moments setting in.

Jeoghan was in your kitchen half naked and covered in bruises with his cock buried inside of you.

You must be going crazy because right now as you rested in his arms you felt safer than ever.

☾

You woke up to an empty bed despite falling asleep in Jeonghan's arms. The memory of you guys pulling off the rest of your clothes and stumbling to bed played through your mind.

Your stomach growled, reminding you that you skipped dinner.

You rolled over to see a note where Jeonghan had been.

~

Sorry I had a few things to handle.

There’s breakfast on the table.

I hope I didn’t make you late for work ^_^

~

You smiled not even caring that you were absolutely going to be late.

The bathroom mirror was still a bit fogged over when you looked in it. You touched your earring and smiled to yourself.

“I should’ve woken up earlier and showered with him.” You said to yourself regretfully, quickly showering so you could enjoy the breakfast he left to you. The towel he used was slightly damp and it smelled like him. You used it to dry off even though you had more than one and hurriedly lotioned and got dressed.

Jeonghan had left you a coffee that was still warm and a breakfast sandwich from Clovers. You thought your face would break from how much you were smiling but you couldn’t help that soaring feeling on your heart as you grabbed the food and headed out the door.

☾

The hairs on your neck stood up tall as you walked toward your house. It was the same stressed and scared feeling you felt the other night. The streets were being cleaned in the morning so you had to park farther down. You walked quickly as nerves began to set in halfway home. Glancing behind you you saw nothing but when you turned back around you crashed into a big tall man. You were unable to see his face before someone grabbed you from behind, holding a damp cloth over your nose until everything started to blur. You fought and fought with all your fading might, dropping your things on the ground before your body fell numb and everything went black.

Awakening to the ringing sound in your ears you squeezed your eyes tighter to gather your bearings. Examining yourself you found a bandage wrapped around your wrists and chest. It hurt as you breathed in. Your attempt to sit up was cut short by your body collapsing back on the bed, pain shooting throughout and settling into your head as a heinous migraine.

Cautious breaths were your anchor as you slowly looked around the dark room. Adjusting to the dark you noticed the faint orange glow of a cigarette burning by the window.

Fear ripped through your heart as every alarm fired off in your head.

You weren’t alone.

Using all of your strength you pushed your back against the headboard as you felt around for anything that could be used as a weapon. A gentle breeze from the open window blew through, bringing a familiar scent to greet your nose.

“J-Jeonghan?” Fear turned into confusion and then terror.

“You’re awake?” His voice came, soft and warm like a blanket covering you.

He stood up and stepped closer to you revealing the slouch of his tired frame. Bathed in blue light you could see fresh cuts and bruises on his face.

“Here, drink this.” He said offering you a water bottle.

You only just noticed how thirsty you were but you shook your head and pushed your body further away from him.

“Please, you must be thirsty. It’s unopened.” He said, switching on nightstand light and showing you the sealed bottle.

You took a moment to mull it over before tentatively accepting the drink. Your action was cut short as pain shot through, forcing you to wrap your arms around yourself.

Jeonghan rushed beside you, his hands instantly resting on your arms as his concerned eyes scanned your body. Save for the bandages around your chest and ribs your upper torso was bare, revealing the dark brushing that littered your upper torso.

“Let me help you.”

Jeaoghan opened the bottle and brought it to your mouth, his hand gently cradling your face carefully avoiding you painful bruise on your chin. Without hesitation you parted your lips allowing him to pour a few sips into your mouth. Your throat rejoiced at the relief while your stomach made you aware of its hollowness with a growl.

Jeonghan gazed down at you in his close proximity.

“What's going on?” You shakily whisper to him. “Everything hurts so…ugh…so much.”

A frown wrinkled Jeonghan’s beautiful face at your words and he looked away in shame.

“…Jeonghan?”

“You're safe. Rest here for a few days and then I’ll relocate you somewhere more comfortable. Kim will come later tonight.”

You blinked at him, no sound able to leave your mouth as you tried to process the moment.

With that Jeonghan stood up, grabbed his coat and headed for the door.

“Wait! Where are you going?” You asked, panic and distress filling you at the thought of him leaving you here alone.

“Don't leave me.” Your voice broke and you saw him hesitate, his hand frozen on the lock.

“Kim will be here soon.” He said quickly before slipping out, shutting the door airily behind him.

About an hour passed before a small slender woman possibly in her mid 40s walked in with a suitcase in tow behind her

“Hello.”

Her voice paired with her warm motherly smile felt gentle and sweet.

“You’re already looking better!”

She switched on the room light finally allowing you a clear view of the high end hotel room you apparently were staying in.

Kim went to the bathroom and came back with a basin of water.

“May I?” She asked, placing the bowl on the nightstand and ringing out the cloth.

You nodded and she began by wiping your face and then your hands. It felt soothing and the tension you felt from a stranger being in your presence began to fade.

“What’s goin-“

Kim shook her head, cutting you off without a word.

You looked at her with pleading eyes and her eyebrows tensed.

“Listen here now darling, it probably won’t make much sense but you helped save a lot of lives. A lot of innocent women and children.”

She looked at you with a soft smile. “The work that the Yoon family does isn’t very pretty and sometimes it’s down right awful. But there are people out there who are worse. And hopefully this group of worse people won’t be able to hurt any more good people.”

You were angry now. “That’s nice and all Kim but that doesn’t explain anything.” You frowned, speaking through gritted teeth as your brain struggled to sort things that just weren’t making sense.

Your heart was pounding, your ears ringing, and you were begging to feel nauseous.

“Come on doll, let’s get you washed up.

You wanted to be noncompliant but unfortunately you could really use a shower and you didn’t think you had the strength to get to the bathroom on your own.

You simply grumbled a thank you as Kim helped you to the shower and turned on the water for you. You didn't even mind when she helped you out of your clothes and bandages. She left you alone after that, only popping in to give you some toiletries and clothing.

You sunk to the floor of the tub in tears as your world crashed around you not even caring that your sobs were louder than the patter of the water against you.

You woke up to the shuffling sound of Kim’s footsteps. There was a bowl of savory smelling porridge steaming on the nightstand.

“Good! You're up!” Kim said cheerfully, making her way over to you.

You need to get something in that stomach of yours.

Kim had helped you with your hair last night by drying and plaiting it for you. You remembered Kim’s gentle hands tangling through your hair while you numbly sat on the cold floor. She had to practically drag you to bed but the moment your head hit the pillow you were out.

You pulled the covers around you. You were still naked save for the bandages Kim rewrapped for you and underwear you’d struggled to pull on. There was a t-shirt on the bed for you and you quickly pulled it on. Kim stirred the porridge and brought the spoon to her mouth checking the temperature as if you were a baby.

She set the tray down in front of you and placed the spoon in the bowl.

“Eat up. Please. You need your strength to heal.”

•••

They had you for two nights… maybe even three.

You were brought to a gaudy bedroom littered with alcohol bottles in every corner.. You were left there alone for a few hours before a woman, possibly in her late twenties, showed up.

She was concerningly skinny with a face that was pretty despite the bags under her eyes and the obvious drug use that bruised her body.

She took a moment to circle the pole you were chained to before scoffing.

“You’re not even that pretty.” She grumbled before landing a blow to your stomach, knocking the air from your lungs.

She would come in periodically to throw insults at you and hit you before eventually falling asleep on the bed. She was always inebriated, her words slurring together as she hissed at you with hot breath that reeked of liquor.

On the last night you heard the commotion of guns and yelling. She heard it as well and rage boiled in her eyes as she screamed and hit you harder than before. You felt the sickening crack of your ribs as you gasped for air and tried to stay awake.

When everything stopped you thought maybe you had died.

But you felt the warmth of a body, the familiar scent of green tea and cigarettes filling your bloodied nose. Once the chains were removed you fell into your savior's arms, unable to stand on your own.

“It’s okay. I’ve got you. I’ve got you…”

•••

You finish the porridge and curl up in bed feeling exhausted even though you hadn't moved an inch. You turned your face into the pillow but you were too tired to even cry.

When you woke up this time it was dark out. Moonlight danced through the room caressing your bare skin. Your skin flitted with goose bumps and you shot up scanning the room, your eyes landing on the figure leaning against the windowsill.

You pulled yourself up and leaned against the headboard so you could face him while you spoke.

“I want to go home.” You said, your voice sounding shakier than you’d hoped.

Jeonghan sighed and out out his cigarette before walking towards the bed, sitting at the foot of it.

“It’s not safe.”

“And why is that Jeonghan?” This time your voice sounded just as venomous as you wanted it to, the rage finally stronger than your fear.

“You’ll need to lay low for a while until things calm down.” His eyes intently watched your glaring ones as he spoke.

“You won’t be able to go back to your job so I’ll help you find something new and until then your needs will be taken care of.”

You looked away first, cursing yourself for the way your body still fluttered under his gaze.

“Can I ask you something?” You said as you fiddled with the blanket, rage subsiding and nervousness taking over again.

Jeonghan nodded.

“Why me? Did you really even…”

By now you had figured that it was all some twisted game that only you were missing the rules to. That you were just…bait?

He sighed again and rubbed his face tiredly before answering.

“You seemed…lonely. Like no one would notice if you went missing. You’re also very pretty.” He listed the reasons matter factly as if it was as casual as telling you the weather.

You wanted to protest but it was true.

Your family wasn’t just physically far away.

Your relationship with your mother and father became strained when you told them you didn’t want to keep sending money just for your little brother's addiction. They claimed it was for his rehab but he never went. Once they found his body you knew it was over. They blamed you and it was easier to leave entirely than deal with their constant bilgerance. When your job had a transfer available you didn’t hesitate. Sometimes at night you were haunted by the anger in your mothers eyes. To her, you were a witch who had killed her beloved son with your greed.

“That night that we... Why- why did you come to me? If I was just…if it was just…”

You couldn’t go on as the tears swallowed your words.

“Because I wanted to.” Jeonghan said nonchalantly.

You looked back at him with furious eyes.

“Listen.” He continued with a sigh, his tone more serious now. “ what happened- you didn’t deserve to get wrapped up in this. I’m sorry. Once I started to- I wanted to find another way.”

Emotions stormed through you, leaving you feeling confused and tired. Jeonghan's words offered little clarity, only giving way to more questions.

As Jeonghan watched your shaking eyes he wondered.

At what point did everything start feeling…real? At what point did he allow such a distraction to pull him away. It was never meant to be this way…and yet he found himself only thinking about you.

“What now?” You said, suddenly pulling Jeonghan from his thoughts. Your voice was soft against his tired mind.

“Safe house. Just for a moment while things settle. There’s still some cleaning up to do.”

You sighed and buried your face into the blanket.

A moment passed before Jeonghan spoke again.

“I’m not going to let anyone else hurt you. And that's a promise.”

For a reason only god knew, Jeonghan's voice still felt like a warm hug swaddling you tightly.

“Fuck. You.”

Your voice was muffled in the blanket but his sigh told you he heard you loud and clear.

That was the last bit of fight you had left. You already knew that no matter how messed up the situation was, you believed his every word.

☾

The next morning you left for the safe house. The drive was long and the roads were whindy and yet you napped in the back seat while Jeonghan silently drove.

Jeonghan found himself peaking in the rear view mirror often to catch a glimpse of your peaceful face.

‘There’s a special place in hell for people like me.’ He thought to himself.

Not wanting to wake you or have you wake up alone, Jeonghan waited in the car despite having arrived 2 hours earlier.

Your eyelids fluttered awake as the sun beamed through the open car windows. Jeonghan was still in the driver's seat quietly speaking on the phone. His eyes shot to the rearview and he gave you a smile. Unfortunately it was just as charming as ever.

“Yeah I’ll call you back.” He said into the phone and hanging up before getting out of the car and opening the door for you.

You nearly tripped on your way out the car as you took in the view around you. The gorgeously quaint cottage house was surrounded by miles of luscious land. There were chickens clucking around and to your far left there was a horse grazing. It was beyond beautiful. It was dream-esque and… secluded?

“Did you bring me here to kill me?” You asked seriously.

He chuckled butterflies straight into your stomach and shook his head.

“If I wanted you dead, why would I bring you here? Why not just leave you with Stella?

All you could do was shrug.

“Stella? So that is the person I need to thank for the bruises.” You said with a forced laugh.

Jeonghan's lips tightened into a thin line, a flicker of anger crossing his elegant features at the sound of Stella's nasty name on your pretty lips. "Don’t concern yourself with that" he muttered, his voice dressed in bitterness and disgust. "She's...been dealt with."

With that he walked away, closing the conversation.

He opened the door for you, letting you walk in first before following and shutting the door behind you two. The house was lit beautifully golden with the sunsets glow.

You turned to him with your eyebrows furrowed.

"Dealt with?"

“The mouse pays for the cheese with it’s life.” He said with a nonchalant shrug as he walked to the kitchen

“Jeonghan!”

You raised your voice and crossed your arms feeling a bit like an indignant child.

“Hmm?” Jeonghan hummed back without even so much as looking at you. He was shuffling through the refrigerator.

“Did you use me as bait in some sort of twisted lovers spat?” You felt your blood boiling as your pulse quickened.

“Hardly.” Jeonghan said, his haphazard attitude now starting to tick you off.

“I’m already trapped in the middle of nowhere with you. The least you can do is look at me and give me a proper explanation!”

“Look.” He said suddenly slamming the refrigerator closed, walking towards you until he was so close you had to take a step back.

“Stella was never my lover or anything like that. She was some crazy bitch who we did trade with. The skank was fucking obsessed with me, always making advances. Anyway she was running some druggie club that took part in human trafficking and shit.”

He walked back to the kitchen now, angrily pulling things from the refrigerator while he spoke. You pulled yourself onto one of the counters and listened.

“You see it’s pretty well know that the Yoons don’t fuck with that kind of shit so we were obviously gonna be a problem. I guess her and a few other wannabes got together with a grand idea and put a hit on my family. To try and scare us off I suppose. We lost good men that night.”

He paused for a moment, his expression suddenly somber but he shook it off and continued.

“That was enough incentive to put an end to her shit but that rat was hard to find. Except I would get letters from her, sometimes super detailed with mentions of things that happened to me the night before. I had a little fun at Rosie’s House and the girl showed up the next day in bad shape. Told me I wasn’t welcome back anymore. That's when we got an idea.”

He stopped tossing out the old food from the refrigerator and turned to you before leaning against the counter, his arms on either side of your body.

Your breath hitch but you did your best to act unaffected by him.

“When I saw you at that restaurant I knew it would drive her crazy. You were absolutely stunning.” His eyes flickered across your body and your treacherous heart went leaping for him.

“It wasn't enough to sleep with you. She had to think I was really seeing you. That way she’d wanna snatch you up and figure out why, leading us right to her.”

He backed up and sighed. You took a few breaths, trying to steady your racing heart.

He leaned against the opposite counter, eyes still watching you as he thought over his next words.

“…She actually found you pretty early on. The night I’d shown up…the night we…Shit was supposed to go down that night but…anyway I couldn’t show up after screwing shit up so I…went to you..”

Jeonghan shrugged his shoulders. Looking down he began picking at a callous on his palm.

“How did you even find where she took me?”

He stood up straight and pointed to your ears before turning around and unpacking the new food he purchased during a pit stop on the way here.

“Are you hungry? There's some kimbap here if you’d like.”

You slowly touched your earrings as sadness pinched your heart..

“No thank you.” You needed a moment to collect your thoughts. “ I’m gonna go and wash up.

“Oh right. Let me show you your room.”

Your room was cozy and spacious. Without waiting for him to leave you kicked off your shoes and pulled your sweaty shirt over your head, tossing it into the basket in a corner that said laundry on it.

“I’ll leave you to it.” Jeonghan said as he turned away to head out.

“Wait—“

He quickly turned back around, inquisition painting his face and he tried to rapid fire reasons in his brains as to why you’d ask him to stay while you pulled off your clothes.

“Can you help me wrap a new bandage?”

He nodded slowly. “Sure. Just call me when you’re done.”

You nodded and he left, closing the door behind him.

Did you really just ask him to wrap the bandage for you? You laid your face in your hands in exhaustion. ‘Whatever’ you told yourself as you pulled off the rest of your clothes. ‘Not like he hasn't seen them already.’

You reasoned with yourself and decided that shyness wasn’t worth losing sleep due to pain. Angrily you took out the earrings and tossed them somewhere on the floor.

You showered as quickly as you could with your sore body before drying off and lotioning as best as you could. You rummaged through the duffel bag of toiletries and clothes that Jeonghan had given you, putting on deodorant and slipping on a pair of panties and sweatpants. You wrapped your towel back around you and took a deep breath that you instantly regret when you felt the pain shoot through you. The pain was also a reminder to suck it up and go find Jeonghan.

You poked your head out of your door. “Jeonghan?” You called softly as you looked around the hallway.

When you didn’t get a response you walked towards the door across from yours and knocked. You heard movement inside the room and Jeonghan pulled open the door with a gentle smile on his face.

“Come in.”

He pulled open the door all the way and walked into the room. You hesitated for a moment and he looked back at you, amusement obvious in the twinkle of his eyes.

“Sit here.” He gestured to his bed where he had a first aid kit already open.

You scowled at him before shuffling into the room and sitting on the bed. You tried not to think about how pleasantly the room smelled of him.

Sitting next to you he faced you and waited. When you didn’t budge he lifted his hands towards your towel, stopping in front of your folded towel.

“May I?”

You nodded in response and set your arms down to your side.

He untucked the towel, letting it fall to your hips and revealing the tender skin underneath.

The room felt cold and your face burned hot.

When he bent down to pick up a jar of cream off of the floor you noticed the bright red of his ears.

He showed you the jar of medicinal cream before opening it and carefully scooping some with his fingers. “This will help with the pain, the healing, and the bruising. Kim makes it for me.”

You watched his hands move with careful elegance and he gingerly rubbed your bruises with the cooling cream. The strong medicinal smell was relaxing as he worked.

His movements were soft and graceful as he did his best to focus on his work and not your perked nipples or the soft rounds of your breast.

Unrolling the bandage he tenderly wrapped the stretchy material around your chest that now ached for more reasons than just bruises.

You couldn’t help exploring his face as he worked. His skin was smooth save for his chin that had a little light stubble on it. His warm brown eyes squinted as he focused on his task, long straight eyelashes fluttering with every movement. His pink lips pressed into a line while his nose would scrunch in concentration.

There was still an heinously undeniable connection that tethered you to him, an energy that left you feeling breathless and warm.

"Thank you," you whispered, your voice barely above a breath.

Jeonghan's eyes met yours, his gaze softening with emotions you felt all too intensely.

He was now working the bandage upward to your breast and you could feel his hands slow.

He continued wrapping, his calluses finger tips grazing against your nipples sending your nerves into a frenzy. You swallowed, keeping your eyes on everything except him until he was finished.

Already feeling hot and bothered you felt a sense of relief wash over you now that his careful ministrations were complete.

You went to stand and he stopped you with a hand on your arm. Opening the cream again he took more out and began rubbing it into the bruise on your arm.

His fingers felt heavenly against your skin as he rubbed more into another bruise on your shoulder.

“Turn around.”

You complied, turning on the bed and showing him your back. This time his touch made you shiver as his nimble fingers traced along your spine.

“Sorry, you must be cold. I’m almost done.”

You felt disappointment settled in as his fingers pulled away from your tender skin.

He stood up and went to his drawer, opened it and pulled out a shirt.

“Here. Lift your arms a bit.”

You complied and Jeonghan carefully guided your arms through each arm hole before pulling the shirt over your head.

Jeonghan sat down on the floor in front of you, pulling up your pant leg.

“What are you doing?” You asked but didn’t pull your foot away from his warm hand where he cradled it.

“I noticed you walk with a bit of a limp.” He replied softly as he rubbed the cream into your ankle before taking another bandage and wrapping the slightly swollen joint.

He closed the jar and handed it to you.

“If you find any more bruises, rub this on them.”

“Thank you.”

“Don’t.” His voice was quiet and suddenly cold.

You looked down, meeting his heavy eyes. Your ankle still rested softly in his hands making for a tense atmosphere as he held your gaze.

The expression on his face was unreadable as he carefully let you go and stood up.

Grabbing your hand he pulled you towards him, his body pressed against yours, his face inches away, his other hand holding your waist firmly against him.

Unmoving you breathed in sync as if you both had finished a complicated dance together. You felt the pounding of his heart against the pounding of yours.

“Jeonghan…”

The way you called his name made his head spin.

He let you go and backed away.

“I put the food in the refrigerator.” He said heading for the door. “You are welcome to do whatever you want here.”

“Wait! Are you leaving?” Your voice came panicked as you followed him out of his room.

“I’ve got things to do. I’ll be back tonight.” He said as you trailed behind him down the stairs.

“But Jeonghan… please.” You pleaded. Feeling too vulnerable to finish the sentence.

He turned to you this time.

“It’s okay. I’ll be back-“

You cut him off with a kiss, your arms thrown around his neck. As his shock faded, he rested his hands on your face, pulling you closer and deepening the kiss.

Your lips were so soft against his and when you parted your lips he found your taste to be intoxicating.

Wrapped in the moment it took him a little bit to notice that suddenly your body was shaking.

Pulling back he saw the tears rolling down your face.

As you clung to Jeonghan with all your might you couldn’t stop the flood of emotions that spilled out. Even after everything that happened he still felt so warm against you. As his arms wrapped around and pulled you close. you felt like everything would be okay.

Jeonghan held you just like that as you cried out the last couple weeks events.

In his arms your world crumbled.

So why was there nowhere else you wanted to be?

No one else you wanted to be with.

WANT MORE FROM ME?

Click HERE!

PART 2

[musingsofahufflepuff]

Just a Glimpse of Us

ex!Mattheo Riddle x gn!reader, Theodore Nott x gn!reader; angst

summary: after a particularly rough break up with mattheo, theodore is there to pick up the pieces. he’s the perfect boyfriend in theory, so why do you wish it was your ex instead?

a/n: while the reader is currently dating theo, this isn’t really about him (sorry bby ily). our focus today is matt. he’s a bit of a dick for the majority and says a couple of insensitive things. the happy ending won, so here it is, happy valentine’s day ♡

Only 2 weeks after your relationship ending fight with Mattheo Riddle, Theodore Nott asked you out. You said yes.

It had taken you a week longer than it had for Mattheo.

You weren’t entirely sure why you had said yes. The pessimist in you said it was only because you were hurt. The optimist in you meekly thought different.

Theodore was attractive and surprisingly gentle with you. In the days following the break up, he frequently sought you out in the nooks of the castle you started to escape to. The times when you couldn’t keep yourself together, he held you as you broke down in tears and didn’t let go until the pain subsided. His chest was warm and sturdy and safe. The scent of smoke lingered on him hauntingly similar to the way it hung to Mattheo, permeating his clothes and your soul.

He was there by your side when you stumbled on a Ravenclaw girl practically chewing Mattheo’s face off out in the hall in front of god and everyone, 3 days post breakup. Part of you knew he wanted you to see.

A piece of you died that day.

The following weekend party ended with you in Theodore’s bed. Maybe you wanted Matt to walk in his dorm and see you with one of his best friends. Maybe you wanted him to feel the same festering wound you had been living with since he had stormed out of your life.

He never did come back that night.

A week after Mattheo broke your heart a second time, Theodore found you sitting in the astronomy tower, knees to your chest, staring at the view of the valley. He sat next to you, arm easing its way across your shoulders as you leaned into him. He had seemed nervous, so unlike his usual stoic and relaxed demeanor.

“Would you want to maybe go to Hogsmeade with me tesorino?”

The pessimist in you was right.

That was a month ago. A month of dating Theodore Nott. You were less sad at least. Or maybe you were just more numb.

Despite sitting at the Slytherin table with Theodore and your friends, you weren’t really present. You were vaguely aware of his hand resting on your side and the unintelligible chattering filling in the background noise of aimless thoughts. Your eyes were facing the rest of the Great Hall, but you were looking through it. You used to sit here with all the same people but Mattheo always used to be here too. You hadn’t seen him during meals or class lately. He would sling his arm around your waist during meals like this. Theodore’s touch burns.

Before your mind can drift off too far as to what he could possibly be up to recently, the doors to the great hall open with a thud.

It takes a few blinks to get your eyes to focus back and when they do, you’re greeted to a bored looking Mattheo, arm loosely resting on—what appears to be a Hufflepuff—girl’s shoulder.

Theodore’s grip on you tightens and a kiss is pressed to your temple. Matt’s eyes rake over to where you’re sat and you can’t quite figure out what he’s thinking. As quickly as he looked your way, he directs his attention elsewhere.

“You okay tesorino? You got tense,” Theodore speaks softly above your ear.

With an exhale you smile up at him, “I’m okay Teddy.” He’s looking at you like you placed the moon in the sky for his enjoyment and it reminds you of brown eyes that had once looked at you the same way.

Pushing the thought from your mind, you press a firm kiss on his lips- searching for butterflies or fireworks or something when he returns the motion.

You find none.

“Nott? Really sweetheart? You can do better than that.”

Mattheo’s voice stabs through you, making you involuntarily jerk to a halt. It had been so long since you’d heard his voice. You try to regain your breath before turning to face him. He’s standing in the middle of the hall, cocky smile on his face. You had forgotten how arrogant he could be, used to his sweet smiles and soft eyes reserved only for you. You desperately longed for it. That Matt was long gone, just a whisper you were still hopelessly trying to grasp onto.

He raises an eyebrow when you make no attempt to respond, seemingly expecting a snarky remark. He takes a couple strides toward you. He baits you again, “I guess I can see why you hang around him, he follows you around like a pathetic dog.” You bite.

“At least I’m not a manwhore who jumps in the first skirt offered to him,” the calm in your tone surprises you, your entire soul feels like it could shatter any moment. “What do you want Riddle?”

Something flashes across Matt’s face for the briefest of moments. So subtle only you would have noticed it.

Before he can respond Theodore is by your side, “why don’t you say that shit to my face next time.”

“And here’s the guard dog now. Have to say, didn’t expect my best mate to lap up my sloppy seconds.”

Tears sting in your eyes at his unexpected cruelty. Then the sound of a fist cracking bone is making you jump. You cover your mouth with your hands as blood starts pouring out of Mattheo’s nose. A crowd has started to form around the three of you and you’re grabbing Theodore’s arm that’s getting ready to take another swing.

Matt’s face is hard to read. He doesn’t immediately react to his apparently broken nose nor the blood staining his uniform. Instead his eyes are locked on you.

You force your voice to work, “c’mon Teddy, it’s not worth it.”

He snaps his head towards you in bewilderment. “Tesorino you heard what he just said about you, right?” Your heart aches at his concern only for you, your gaze shifting to meet Mattheo. The same aching heart reminds you he would have done the same for you once upon a time.

Those pretty brown eyes convince you that you don’t want to see his face anymore beaten than it already was.

“Please Teddy, let’s just go.” You look up at Theodore’s face and tug on his arm.

He relaxes his stance and gives you a nod, letting you lead him away. You do your best to not look back at Mattheo.

However you can’t help the quick glance over your shoulder; seeing Matt looking at you, ironically, like a kicked puppy.

You cry yourself to sleep that night, locked in Theodore’s suffocating embrace.

Monday night finds you back in the astronomy tower, cigarette in your fingers. You had swiped it from Theodore’s stash before classes this morning. It wasn’t the same brand Matt used. Knowing Nott, it was probably higher quality.

You turn the stick in your hand, blinking back tears. Thoughts of your time up here with Matt swirl around your head, making it hard to breathe.

There at the top of the tower surrounded by the cool night, you break.

It happens all at once. No build up, just a shatter. Sobs rack through your body and an animalistic cry of pure pain and despair forces its way out of you.

Mattheo pushes himself off the leather couch he sat on in the common room. Enzo looks up at him with furrowed eyebrows. He pulls a pack of cigarettes out of his pocket and flashes it at the boy, “need a smoke, wanna come with?”

He gets a small head shake no in response before he turns to leave the dungeons.

The walk up to the astronomy tower is familiar and would be comforting in different circumstances. As he starts climbing up the stairs he hears broken sobs echo through the tower. He hesitates thinking it might be best to leave the person alone, but his concern wins out and he treks onward. To say he’s shocked when he sees it’s you is an understatement. Heart rate picking up at the thought of you being hurt, he makes his way over.

At the sound of his footsteps, in between sobs you choke out, “please leave Theo, I want to be alone.”

“I’m not Theo, sorry to disappoint,” the words are slightly joking but his tone is gentle.

You lift your head up to look at him, eyes red and tear tracks staining your cheeks. His heart aches. He settles himself down next to you, giving you space.

You sit together in silence for a few moments, his mere presence wrapping itself around you like a childhood blanket, tattered and long lost. You feel some semblance of peace for the first time in months.

“I’m sorry,” he ducks his head down, shame overtaking him. “You didn’t deserve the way I treated you.”

He tilts his head to look at you, eyebrows knitting together. He almost looks like he could cry. “You’re not my sloppy seconds and Theo isn’t a dog, I just-“ he goes back to avoiding your eyes and blinks a couple times, a tear rolling down his cheek. You reach out and gently wipe it away with your thumb. It has the unintended consequence of making more tears start to fall.

“I was angry and hurt and I guess the only way I know how to express that is by hurting everyone around me.” Your soul shouts at you to reach out for him, but you hold back.

“I think about you all the time,” he’s curled in on himself in the way you’ve only ever seen him do when he talks about his home life. “I miss you so much.”

His eyes squeeze shut in an attempt to stop crying, fingers digging into his biceps. You know him too well, can read his actions like you were reading his mind.

You pull him into your arms.

It’s easy to tell you made the right decision when he instantly relaxes in your embrace, instinctively pushing his head against your chest like he had done so many times before. His voice comes out quieter when he says, “I don’t expect you to forgive me, lord knows I wouldn’t.”

A small smile works its way onto your face as you speak to him for the first time since the fight in the hallway, “you’ve always been the type to hold a grudge. And I know you’d never admit it, but it’s because you care.”

“I’m sorry for kissing that girl, I don’t even know her name. I thought it would fill the hole in me, but it didn’t. Then I saw you with Theo at the party and—“ his voice cracks. You tighten your grip, a hand coming up to run through his curls.

You release a breath you didn’t realize you had been holding, “I told Theo that I couldn’t keep seeing him today. I felt like I was using him, cause he’s not you.”

Matt pulls himself out of your embrace to cup your face in his hands, dark eyes swimming with unshed tears and that gentle look he used to give you. The one where you could see the longing, the raw need for your touch and love and approval and very essence of your being. It was vulnerable and gave away just how deeply sorry he was for hurting you.

You were drawn to him as you had always been, a planet orbiting a sun that gave off such warmth and fiery passion but could also burn magnitudes of pain that was near incomprehensible.

“I can’t fix the damage I’ve done, but I want to spend my life making it up to you. And I’ll do everything in my power to make amends with Theo. Please, let me be part of your life again.”

“Matty, I want to, but I don’t want to feel like that again. It was hell,” your voice catches on the last part, a stray tear escaping. Gentle lips are pressed on your cheek where the tear was.

“I will never make you feel that way again. And I give you full permission to use an unforgivable if I don’t keep my promise. Fuck, I’ll take an unbreakable vow if that’s what you want, love.”

You can’t hold back anymore, pressing your lips to his in a kiss that rivals the most beautiful sunsets, warmth rushing over you. This is what home feels like.

[shegetsburned]

❝ somethin’ stupid like i love you ❞ w. shiu kong ⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 .

.nsfw.

• — content. shiu realizes he’s slowly falling for you and absolutely hates it. • — author’s note. coming back of hiatus with this! part of my fwb shiu content. feel free to send suggestions for this trope btw <3

˗ˏˋʚ fwb!shiu who genuinely thinks this whole thing is suspicious. it has never happened before. there’s no way he’s thinking about you this much. you must be playing a game he isn’t aware of.

˗ˏˋʚ fwb!shiu who after a few months, made many more calls and asked for you more often than the usual one day a week. it has come to three to four days and even when you were busy he found ways to clear your schedule and have you all to himself.

˗ˏˋʚ fwb!shiu who has gotten rougher and less patient when he fucks you. as soon as he steps through the door his hands are all over you and his warm breath covers your neck like he had been waiting all day to finally get a sample of your addicting scent.

˗ˏˋʚ fwb!shiu who has a habit of “forgetting” his jacket or his pack of cigarettes at your place just to call you a few hours later to pass by and get his items back. little did you know it was just to see you some more.

˗ˏˋʚ fwb!shiu who stays longer and doesn’t leave you as soon as he’s done. to your surprise, he stays until you fall asleep or sometimes when you’re lucky, shares a bath or a shower with you. nothing sexual, he just prefers to stay clean and helps you in the process.

you two have easy conversations about anything and everything without being scared of the other’s judgment. shiu likes to talk about anything as long as it doesn’t involve work and you love it when his deep chuckle resonates in your ears.

˗ˏˋʚ fwb!shiu who has asked himself several times why he always needed to come back to you. he never realized how much he looked forward to these intimate moments which contradicted the whole accord you guys had made. this was supposed to be temporary and, now, he couldn’t go two days without the touch of your skin against his.

˗ˏˋʚ fwb!shiu who begins to open up more about his work and clients. how uninteresting and full of cash they are, how good the pay is and how easy it is to fool scared millionaires. more importantly, he had told you in total confidence that he thought about quitting his job. it may have been easy money but it wasn’t the most morally fulfilling job.

˗ˏˋʚ fwb!shiu who, for the first time, has stayed the night, sleeping in with you. you thought you’d awoke to an empty side of the bed, like always, but here he was, peacefully sleeping. needless to say, you had never seen him reveal this side of himself. he looked so comfortable, you were the one to leave first that morning.

˗ˏˋʚ fwb!shiu who cursed himself for falling asleep in your bed, but it felt so good and he was so tired that his body had just given out. he made sure to gather everything before leaving in a hurry. no jacket or packs forgotten, only leaving his fresh and rich smell of smoke all over your apartment.

˗ˏˋʚ fwb!shiu who was distracted at work. his thoughts diverged to his hands trailing your curves and your perfect lips he wanted to taste so badly. the feeling pierced his heart. did he actually miss you?

˗ˏˋʚ fwb!shiu who tried to dismiss his feelings by taking a small break from you and hooking up with different girls. despite his best efforts, nothing felt right when he was fucking them. he was quick and uninterested. it was so boring without you.

˗ˏˋʚ fwb!shiu who, determined to not fall into your meaningless trap, has finally decided to give you one final call. he’d explain everything to you in person.

˗ˏˋʚ fwb!shiu who got lost in time and ended up pussy drunk, between your legs, once again squeezing his soft tongue into your tight pussy. after all these sessions, he came to be the best at eating you out and knowing precisely how you wanted to be touched and handled.

“god- i fucking love you, [y/n].” he murmurs against your sloppy entrance, heavy breath itching at your skin and you can’t quite discern his sentence before panic finally sets in.

it comes out so easily out of his mouth, between two pants, like praise he had said over and over again. he doesn’t even notice, but you do. oh, yes you do.

˗ˏˋʚ fwb!shiu who continues to place wet kisses on your inner thighs but you had stopped clenching the sheets to stare at him, eyes wide open. shiu was so strict about following the rules he had personally set, to maintain this kind of relationship and here he was saying that he loved you. what a fool.

˗ˏˋʚ fwb!shiu who’s so mesmerized by your euphoric scent that he hasn’t yet become aware of the fact that he accidentally confessed to you. you can feel your heartbeat fasten and your pulse through your ears when he pronounces the words. your pink-tinted cheeks betray how flustered you are.

˗ˏˋʚ fwb!shiu who brings you back to reality with a guttural groan as he dives back against your dripping folds, his nose pressing against your clit. his hands open up your legs more as you give out the meaningless fight and fall deeper into his delicious embrace.

“f-fuck.. wait- aaah- shiu..”

your mind’s hazy from the pleasure but you’re still thinking about his words. you wonder if it was only in the heat of the moment or a true confession he couldn’t have hidden much longer.

˗ˏˋʚ fwb!shiu who had promised to never kiss you in fear of his emotions getting the best of him, but this night was different. your puffy pink lips were looking particularly pretty and captivating. he wasn’t one to break promises but his self-control was hanging on by a thread when he was so drunk over you. he moved upward, parting with your needy cunt to place a trail of light kisses along your chest, from your belly all the way to your neck.

˗ˏˋʚ fwb!shiu who doesn’t hesitate further. his whole body’s covering yours when he leans into your neck, nibbling at the skin before capturing your lips in a hot and steamy kiss. he’s breathing the amount of air you have left, causing you to stop him abruptly, your fingers pushing his lips away. he’s taken aback, his eyes questioning yours with your skin still blocking his lips.

˗ˏˋʚ fwb!shiu who looks perplex, like he missed an episode. what were you so tense all of a sudden? wasn’t he doing enough? you always loved the way he ate you out, so what’s changed? of course, he had forgotten about the kissing rule, but the flustered gaze you were wearing told him something else bothered you the most.

˗ˏˋʚ fwb!shiu whose gaze goes from your wet lips to your eyes. he knows what he did wrong but the memory of his confession is still blurry. delicately enough, he wraps his hand around your wrist to free his mouth. you whisper his name, panting, but he cuts you off almost immediately.

“don’t read too much into what i say when we’re fuckin’, angel.”

he’s trying to defend himself. truth is he was almost ashamed of slipping out to you like that. exposing his buried feelings to you made him want to disappear, especially considering the face you were wearing right now.

˗ˏˋʚ fwb!shiu who’s reluctant to talk about it, he doesn’t want to talk about his feelings, he just wants to fuck you. had he forgotten why he came here in the first place? he had never gone this far with any of the girls he was fucking before and here he was, almost completely naked and so drunk over you that your pussy wasn’t enough for a taste. wasn’t he supposed to talk to you about terminating this affair?

˗ˏˋʚ fwb!shiu who was embarrassed to be so vulnerable when it came to you. he quickly regains his senses, moving away to give you enough space to sit up and wrap your sweating figure with the sheets.

“why are you so ashamed of it, shiu?”

he shakes his head frenetically. god. you didn’t understand anything did you? being obsessed with you wasn’t in any of his plans. he needed to get out of this situation quickly, otherwise he’d simply betray himself further.

“we can’t do this anymore. I’m ending our deal.” he says, skillfully putting his belt back with his clenched back muscles exposed to your sight.

his words were frustrating. was it your fault? was it you that he was so ashamed to love? “you were the one to break the rules, shiu.”

˗ˏˋʚ fwb!shiu who brushes it off, buttoning his white shirt back on. his hands travel inside his pockets, desperately searching for a cigarette. it was so annoying. it was so annoying that you could see right through him and that he had no power over it. he had no power over his feelings for you and it was infuriating.

˗ˏˋʚ fwb!shiu who refuses to explain any further. the last thing he said before leaving your place was that you didn’t have to expect anymore calls or texts from him.

what he didn’t say was that he wanted to stay so badly. he wanted, without shame, to tell you how you made him feel but his pride inevitably got the best of him and he left without another word, leaving you naked in your bed, wondering how the hell you were so hung up on such a confused man.

© shegetsburned 2024 please do not repost/edit/or claim my writing as your own.

[ludwig-van-gaythoven]

Cabin Fever - (Regina George x F Reader)

Fandom;

Mean Girls (2024)

Pairings:

Regina George x Reader

Summary:

The students of Northshore go on a school trip for a week in the forest. You end up getting to know the apex predator in a way you’d never seen her before.

Warnings;

Underage smoking, underage drinking, implied ED

Parts

Part 1// Part2// Part 3// Part 4// Part 5// Part 6

School trips were never really your thing. Sure it was good to be out of classes but to you it just seemed like an extension of school and honestly you’d rather be anywhere else.

One of the teachers thought it would be a bright idea to take you all out of school for a week to spend it in a forest ‘immersed in nature’. Possibly their tactic to get everyone to stop being at eachother a throats especially after the whole Cady incident a few months back.

It didn’t help that your best friends Janis and Damien both ended up getting sick at the last minute so couldn’t come with you , now you had to stay in your shared cabin alone. At least you didn’t have to room with a random person the whole trip, small mercies I guess.

The coach drive there was boring. You sat near the front, making sure to put your bag on the seat next to yours so nobody tried to sit with you. Of course Queen Regina and her minions took ownership of the back of the coach, that’s why you decided to sit upfront. Best to stay out of the firing line.

It’s not that you hated Regina, you understand why she’s the way she is. It’s a smart move to position yourself at the top of the food chain to avoid being mauled. Your tactic has always been to just steer clear of the food chain entirely which has worked so far.

The coach finally comes to a stop after a few hours and everyone shoves their way off and mills around in groups before a teacher starts to call out names and lodge numbers so people can go and unpack.

As soon as you turn the corner you hear Regina’s shriek of horror.

“Eww, what the fuck are these. I thought we were staying in chalets”

You roll you eyes. The cabins were clean, neat, maybe a little rustic. Of course Regina would still have to be dramatic about it.

“I’m sure forcing us to stay in one of these is some form of neglect.” She snarks at Mrs Norbury as she takes her hot pink suitcase over to her accommodation.

Luckily you get assigned one of the cabins at the edge of the forest, it’ll be quiet. Unfortunately it’s the next cabin over from the plastics. Not that they’ll even notice you there, I’m not sure any of them even know your name. It feels safe to be invisible, if not a bit lonely.

Once everyone is settled, a teacher comes round to each cabin explaining that tonight you can just get settled. No hiking or activities today, just a campfire and dinner later. That suits you perfectly. You sit on the creaky bed in your cabin, pull out your Switch console and start to get lost in a game. Hours pass before dinner call and you make your way, alone to the campfire.

You sit on your own, out of the way of all the different high school cliques. At this point you wish Janis and Damien were here. It feels vulnerable sitting alone.

To distract yourself you watch the other groups like a documentary maker. Noting the way they interact, the tension between them and the clique next to them. However nobody quite catches your eye like Regina.

She’s like a lioness. She has this invisible hold over everyone. They can all fuck about in their own groups but as soon as someone steps a foot out of place she roars and swishes her mane and everyone scampers back to obedience.

Currently she’s sitting at a bench with Gretchen and Karen, they’re talking enthusiastically about their plans for the trip; makeovers, cabin decoration, girly shit. Regina seems zoned out, she’s been pushing the same bit of food around her plate for a good 15 minutes. Every few minutes it’s like she’s trying to solve a puzzle, rearranging everything until teachers tell us to go back to our cabins and rest for the evening. You’re not sure you saw her eat a single thing, the food is probably not up to her standards.

Regina stands and suddenly seems snapped out of her trance, flashing a grin and summoning Karen and Gretchen back to the cabin with her.

You follow, a good distance behind. No point getting too close to danger, and slip back to your Cabin unnoticed.

There’s not much to do alone in a forest so you end up putting on a movie and start a new page in your sketchbook. Janis and Damien are the only ones to know you draw. That’s how you ended up speaking with Janis in the first place. If that news ever got back to Regina she’d probably have something to finally pick on you for, but so far you aren’t even on her radar.

You lose a lot of time sketching out some of the trees you can see out of the window, lots of tall, looming pines fill the page, you start to sketch a lion between the trees.

Eventually darkness creates a blanket around the forest. There’s a soft glow from many lamps outside of cabin doors, but past that, the forest seems endless in the dark. It’s 10:30pm. Teachers are fast asleep. Students definitely are not.

You hear snickering coming from the plastics cabin. Their lights are still on, not that you care at all.

Since all the teachers are asleep you decide that it’s probably safe to sneak out and have a cigarette. You stand down the side of the cabin so that your silhouette is obscured slightly by a bush and hunt through your pockets for a lighter. Finally you light the cigarette, trying to blow the smoke downwind, away from the teachers window.

“Karen! Fuck! Would you just stop puking, shut up!”

You watch from the shadow as Karen falls out of the door and begins to heave into the bush next to their window. Gretchen follows quickly, shaking Karen by the shoulders, desperately trying to get her to shut up so they don’t wake anyone. Regina steps out too, slightly loosing balance and nearly falling down the steps after them.

Clearly they’re all drunk. Someone must have snuck alcohol in.

Regina tries to keep a composed look but you see panic flash across her face briefly as her eyes scan around them, watching for any witnesses. You stay completely still against the cabin wall.

Karen finally stops for a second and they grab her by the arms to try and get her back inside. Their balance isn’t very good either and on the way in Regina’s foot connects briefly with a terracotta plant pot which wobbles for a second and then crashes to the ground, smashing over the front step. A sound that cuts through the night air.

The light to the teachers cabin flicks on.

You quickly drop the cigarette and stomp it out before silently scrambling back into your room, making sure the door closes soundlessly, watching intently through the window.

Mrs Norbury storms over to the plastics lodge, already suspecting they caused the noise.

You can’t make out exactly what’s being said. There’s a lot of shouting, from both parties. Then Mrs Norbury leaves, and the plastics light goes off too.

You quickly get into bed. It’s unlikely anyone will check in on you, but you decide it’s time to sleep anyway, it’s late, and drift off to the sound of the wind through trees. The wind sounds faintly like a roar.

In the morning you shower and begin to get changed when there’s a knock at your door.

“Regina will be rooming with you for the rest of the week, make sure she doesn’t try sneaking out.”

[the-entitie]

Why didn't you say anything?

Poly TF 141 x sex-demon reader (male intended but has depictions of fem):

A|n: Based on this writer's amazing work and this artist's au. And now this is very long.... I can't just write porn can I? Of well.

Prt:2 is done <3 》》》》》

Be warned I use more Catholic or deamon depiction of our succubus(male) reader, so please expect some body horror esk depictions. Also, the 141 are all in a polycule in this story.

CW: NSFW halfway through after the line break, sex addiction or dependence depicted for reader, threats to health, kind of eating disorder esk, talk of threats/acts of noncon and dubcon to reader (not focused on), polyamory, some talk of religion, why is this so long? And angst??? Ok....

Thinking about being a demon who became the 141's spy. The blood of the damned that ran through you, making you that much more dangerous and that much better at your job.

You fell under the deadly sin of lust, but it's been so many decades that you can't quite remember how you came to be. Maybe reincarnation, maybe you were summoned. It doesn't matter anymore, but it still hindered your intake into the military. You were practically a veteran by the time Price picks you up and drags you into his team.

None of the 141 had ever worked with anyone demonic for an extended amount of time. There had been the call ins and times when they picked up failed missions, but none of them ever really worked with a demon.

Ghost, as a wraith, was the closest any of them had gotten to working with anyone similar to you.

You started out as someone they called to scope out information before a particularly threatening mission. You were just the help, the one they called when they needed a spy. Until they leaned about how every other task force would drop you within a month of calling you thiers.

Price had worried that it was something to do with you or your attitude towards teamwork when he had taken you in, made you one of his men.

That was before he noticed this kind of cycle you would go through. Just when a mission would start, you would pull back. You would separate from everyone, not cold turkey, yet you just wouldn't be present. The training room was one person short, or their would be one less person here on the quieter afternoons he didn't even know this team had.

It was after the missions that you would be more than present again.

You were there again when Soap wanted to run his lycanthopic body to exhaustion just so he could feel just a little more human with the pains it brought. When he was hyper, feeling like he needed to move, you were there to shove him. Drag him into a game of tag or chase or anything to help him move. Soap has never been good at sitting still.

When Gaz needed to be called from the purch he picked to preen his damp or irritated feathers on that was away from the busy noise of the base. Or when his Avian blood told him to take to the sky, you were happy to be taken for a flight or watch him loop around, watch him stretch his wings, across the star splattered skies.

And there you were outside with the nocturnal Ghost, saying you didn't need the sleep most nights and got bored. Even when his form would flicker, tendrils of shadows lashing around his open skin, something that made most run. You stayed with him, hummed a tune you can't remember the origin of, in a language probably only those as old as you would remember.

When Price was struck with phantom pain, when he would feel this pang on his wing only to realize it was from the one that didn't exist anymore. You were there with him. Happy to share a cigar with the smoke that smoldered was neither from his drag nor you. There to sit and fill in paperwork long into the night shift, to just exist around Price when the team was still settling in, or licking wounds.

In the more common areas where Soap would annoy Gaz into another game of cards. You were there to keep the peace.

It had taken Price longer than he was willing to admit to know what was going on. It wasn't some manipulative, carrot and stick, trick no. And it almost seemed like you hadn't consciously been doing it. Before it clicked.

You were a demon, a succubus, to be specific. You fed off of the emotion or the intent of sex.

And you only got that when you needed to get someone to talk. You only lean into it when it's needed for a mission.

He honestly felt stupid, like a leader that failed, but he was quick to right that failure. It wasn't like this team didn't run off and blow off steam together or that they left soap to struggle through his heat alone, nor did they leave Gaz to sit and brood alone. None of that.

And if you were a part of his team, this team, then you can't be starved. Can't be left to weaken, to crave, no. Price wouldn't stand it.

So he talked to the team. Told them his theory, his plan to fix it, and when the team had gotten over the hurt of leaving you alone and weak. They jumped at the opportunity.

Starting small.

Being more openly affectionate around you, never quiet reaching out but still letting the emotions linger.

Those play fights that Ghost would tap out of suddenly just kept going, and those thick visceral emotions none could quiet place the origin of; would hang so heavy in the air you could practically catch it between your teeth.

Those days Gaz would pull back, preen his wings alone; became fewer and far between. Now, the nearest team mate had a lap full of fluffled up wings and pleading eyes. And could Gaz use those honey coated eyes of his to glance up through his lashes and beg.

The quiet chuckles and this ever so pleased emotion would wind around Price's incisors, a satisfied thrill of the dragon flooding a palpable semblance of the satisfied job.

Price started talking about to the team, and they started trying to be more connected, more present, with you so you could have that nourishment. And if that meant that private room doors were left ever so lightly ajar during late nights spent with each other. No one mentioned it.

Soap was the first to notice the actual change.

Your eyes would flicker, puplis vibrating softly before it was shut down, and you would disappear. Or you would actually pull back. He was also the first to tell Price. And thier leader waisted no time.

"You good there, lutenent?" His voice calls softly into your quarters.

"All good Cap."

"Not so sure about that one soldier." Price presses on, taking a step further in to push the door more closed, "You don't play well with this team?"

"No, I have no qualms with any of you. Sorry if it seemed so."

"Ya do always talk so proper like you know?"

"Apologies, old habits."

Price steps closer, easily taking the space offered my your open thighs. Letting that simmering feeling flush his skin.

"Maybe we should start making new ones. What do you say, Sugar?"

His hand hovered just over your throat, careful to keep you feel safe. Price of all people knows what a demon can do when cornered, and it wasn't like he wanted you to feel put off.

He sees what Soap saw, just as his palm cups the edge of your jaw, your pupils flicker. Body dropping almost leaning agaisnt him.

"Why didn't you say something, Suguar?"

"Not of my use in this team."

"You don't need to be useful to eat." He sounded almost angry, calming all the more when you do lean into him, "you never need to earn a meal. Just ask. We all want to help."

That night, he let you ride him.

Laid back against your bed, held your weight by your thighs, and let you set the pace. Even if he was so hard it hurt, or if your dark lion-esk tail would flick across the sensitive inside of his thigh. Or when he's come twice and is practically drooling before he notice just how much more like your kin you look.

He doesn't stop you from flicking a forked tongue over the overwhelmed tears, he only noticed the change at the hitch of your breath when Price tangles his scared hands in your hair. Accidently tracing the curving rams horns that has twisted around your more pointed ears.

Singing your praise, even as you tried and failed to explain that you don't matter in this, just his pleasure.

He shut that down real quick.