#I keep forgetting to give him gloves too

[im-no-jedi]

small update on ken!bae, I made him some arm wraps and a belt, complete with thigh strap 😋

I still need to make him a scarf and a knife holster (which will be going on the belt, not his arm), and then his fit will finally be complete \o/

not sure if I even wanna attempt making armor pieces at this point, I’m too enamored with the modern casual look hehe 😁

bonus obligatory OTP pic because I can:

our hands are so close to touching OMG 👀😩

[dreamwritesimagines]

Sunshine

AN: Hi my loves! So, this is the first installment of a oneshot series and I hope you’ll like it! Please don’t forget to tell me what you think!

Pairing: Logan Howlett x Female!Reader

Summary: The first ray of sunlight holds many promises.

Word Count: 2844

You were no stranger to the feeling of inadequacy.

For you it was around every corner; impossible to get away from at least for the last couple of years. Even now, in the clothes you had borrowed from your best friend in an attempt to look more formal and serious, you couldn’t help but feel way out of your element.

Yet in your humble opinion, the very intimidating mansion you were currently gawking at didn’t make this any easier.

Your heart was slamming against your chest as you tried to keep your breathing under control, your tongue shooting up to wet your dry lips, then you looked down when you felt a tug on your sleeve. Theo stared up at you with wide eyes, making your heart clench but you managed to give him a bright smile despite the fear clouding your mind, and crouched down to get to his eye level.

“Hey bean,” you said, pushing his round glasses up the bridge of his nose. “What’s going on?”

“What if they don’t like me?”

You gasped and pressed a hand over your chest, feigning shock.

“Are you kidding?” you asked. “They will absolutely adore you. I myself am more worried that they will love you too much.”

He blinked a couple of times in confusion. “Too much?”

You nodded fervently.

“Yeah!” you said. “And then I’ll have to fight everyone in there to get you to myself every weekend.”

That managed to make him giggle and you pretended to be offended, narrowing your eyes.

“You don’t think I could take them down?”

“Can you?”

“Why yes I can,” you said, sticking your nose in the air. “I just don’t like to brag about it because that’ll scare people off, you know?”

He smiled wide and you pinched his cheek, then turned your head when a pretty girl with gloves on her hands cleared her throat.

“Hi, I’m Rogue,” she introduced herself. “New enrollment?”

 “Yeah,” you said after a beat. “Yeah, hi.”

“Professor is expecting you, please follow me,” she said and you stood up, then took Theo’s hand and followed her into the building.

The interior of the mansion was as gorgeous and intimidating as it was on the outside. Theo looked like he was nearly hypnotized -which made sense, your apartment had to be the size of a simple storage room in this place- and he stared at the ceiling with his mouth hanging open, his eyes darting around.

“I feel like you should know that because of the new policy Professor will need his parents’ signature in order to enroll him,” Rogue said, making you snap out of your haze before you cleared your throat.

“Um, I’m the parent.”

That made her pause only for a moment and she pulled her brows together, looking between you and Theo.

“Oh, sorry about that!” she said. “I just assumed…”

“No no I get that a lot, please don’t worry about it,” you assured her quickly, waving a hand in the air. “I had Theo the first year of college and—”

Never got to finish that year or the rest.

“As I said, I get that a lot.”

She gave you an apologetic smile, then stopped in front of a door.

“Wait a moment please,” she said, knocking on the door before stepping inside and Theo tugged at your sleeve.

“It’s so pretty here!” he whispered and you tried to swallow the nervous lump in your throat, then smiled at him.

“Isn’t it?” you whispered. “It’ll be fun to go to school here huh? The brochure said they even have a maze!”

“A maze?” he asked, his eyes widening behind his glasses. “Like in the movies?”

“Mm hm, just like in the movies,” you said. “And a lake!”

“Where is the lake?”

“I don’t know yet but they’ll show you,” you said and frowned when the thought hit you. “But you’re not going there without a teacher, alright?”

“Okay.”

“Pinky promise?”

“Pinky promise,” he said as you hooked your pinky with his and the door opened again.

“You can go in,” Rogue said and you thanked her, then turned to Theo.

“Don’t go anywhere, okay?” you asked and entered the huge office to see the man in the wheelchair behind the desk.

“Hello sir,” you said, your voice trembling slightly despite your best efforts as you approached him to shake his hand, then took the seat across from the desk.

“Hello,” he said with a calm smile. “I’m Professor Charles Xavier, we spoke on the phone. Y/N, isn’t it?”

“Yes sir,” you said. “Thank you for agreeing to see me.”

“Of course, it’s my pleasure,” he said. “I take it you’re here to enroll your son as we spoke?”

You nodded your head, fighting the urge to bite at your nails and took Theo’s file from his other school out of your backpack, then put it in front of him so that he could examine it.

“He’s um, he’s really good at math,” you said, stumbling over your words. “I don’t know if that’ll be helpful here but he’s—he’s very good at a lot of classes really.”

“I must admit, he is going to be the youngest student here and the fact that his power has shown itself this early on…” Professor Xavier trailed off, your stomach doing a painful flip. “We will have to work hard, but I’m confident that we can guide him and teach him how to use his abilities for good.”

You nibbled on your lip, clenching and unclenching your hands.

“I know it’s a boarding school but he’s not used to being away from me and I’m not used to being away from him,” you admitted, “You said on the phone that the students’ weekends are free?”

“Of course,” he said. “Some of our students only stay here on weekdays to attend their classes, and they spend their weekends with their parents.”

You let out a relieved breath. “Okay. That’s nice to hear.”

“I know you’re worried,” he said, his voice completely calm and soothing. “It’s very normal to be worried but trust me, you’re making the best decision for him.”

“I know,” you said, trying to convince yourself and him at the same time. “I’ve done a lot of research and—and I want him to be safe and this place seems like the best place to teach him how to be safe.”

Professor Xavier pulled out a paper from his drawer, then pushed it in your direction with a pen.

“We only need your signature,” he said and paused for a second. “That is if the father…?”

You shook your head.

“Not in the picture, sir,” you said as you signed the paper, your heart beating in your ears. “Um, it’s just me and Theo.”

“I see,” he said. “Well, I promise you that Theo will be in good hands, Y/N.”

“Thank you,” you said, putting the paper back on the desk and fixed your hair with a shaky hand just so that you could keep yourself busy, and Professor Xavier offered you a small smile.

“You can always contact me if you have any other questions,” he said. “I’ll talk to Theo after Rogue gives him his tour, and I’ll see you on Friday?”

“Yes sir,” you said. “Thank you, have a nice day.”

“You too.”

When you walked out of the office, you caught the sight of Rogue talking to a tall man with tousled dark hair, but you couldn’t see his face since his back was turned to you. For a moment you considered letting Rogue know that you were out, but figured it would be rude to interrupt, so you approached Theo who was patiently waiting for you.

“Alright bean,” you said as you crouched down to look him in the eye, trying to swallow the lump in your throat, desperate to keep the tears at bay at least until you were back in the car and Theo couldn’t see you. “What day is it today?”

“Tuesday.”

“And then we have…?”

“Wednesday, Thursday and Friday,” he said, counting with his fingers and you nodded your head, holding his fingers together.

“And on Friday I’ll come and get you, okay?” you asked him and he pursed his lips, then pushed his glasses up his nose.

“Just three days.”

“Just three days,” you repeated. “But before I leave, you need to promise me something.”

“What?”

“You’ll tell me all about how pretty this place is, in detail,” you said. “And how much fun you have. So you kind of have to see everything here and have fun, promise?”

“Promise.”

“And the signal?”

He smiled, tapping over his heart three times and you did the same.

“See? I feel it,” you told him. “When you do that, I’ll do the same even if I’m not here. Okay?”

“Mkay.”

 “Ready for your tour, Theo?” Rogue asked and he looked up at her, then turned to you and you pulled him into a tight hug, then smothered him in kisses as he let out an embarrassed whine.

“Mommy!”

“Okay okay, sorry,” you said with a small laugh, then adapted an overly serious expression and held out your hand. “A handshake then?”

He let out a giggle, then shook your hand and you forced yourself to smile, then stood up and straightened your back while he made his way to Rogue. Theo waved at you and you waved back, but as soon as he turned the corner with Rogue, your shoulders dropped.

Okay.

It was fine.

It was going to be just fine.

 “New enrollment?” a deep voice reached you and you looked over your shoulder, then turned around to see him better.

It was the same man who you’d seen talking to Rogue just now and God, he was so handsome. If your mind wasn’t numb with anxiety, you would have stood there and gawk at him for a good minute, but perhaps your worries were for once working in your favor. His intense gaze raked over you, making your cheeks burn and your heartbeat speeding up, and a small smile curled his lips as if he could hear it.

“That obvious?”

“Just a little,” he said as your hand shot up to pinch your bottom lip, his gaze following the motion.

“People don’t get killed or maimed here, do they?” you asked and he shrugged his shoulders.

“Not on weekdays.”

“Great,” you said after a beat, offering him a weak smile. “Thanks. I’m gonna go on a limb and say there’s a reason why they didn’t put you in the welcome committee?”

That made the corners of his mouth twitch and he nodded in the direction Theo had walked away from you.

“Isn’t he a bit too young to have powers?”

“Funny you should ask that because I repeated the same question over and over again until I cried myself to sleep last night,” you pointed out and scrunched up your nose when he tilted his head. “Sorry. My jokes get a bit grim when I’m stressed.”

“You look like a very relaxed individual.”

“Do I?”

“Not really, I’m convinced that you’re having a heart attack right now.”

You blinked a couple of times in confusion before the idea hit you and your jaw dropped, your stomach doing a flip.

Right. He—

Everyone here had powers.

Well if there was anything more embarrassing than making bad jokes in front of a very hot man, it was that when the said hot man could hear your heartbeat. You managed to close your mouth and shifted your weight, your hand shooting up to your mouth again so that you could bite at the hangnail on your thumb nervously.

“Yeah that’s kind of my factory settings,” you managed to mumble. “I generate enough stress to light up a whole city.”

He hummed, his unwavering gaze making your heart skip a beat and as always, your brain took it as a sign for you to ramble about absolute nonsense.

“I’ll be a very rich person the moment they find a way to monetize stress,” you stated. “Which should be any day now, and I kind of have a list prepared for that day; the first thing I’m gonna do is probably cry because knowing me—I cry like all the time, I cried this morning and I will probably cry when I get to my car after this but— but then I’ll buy one of those very expensive coffees, I don’t know if you’ve tried them—”

“Logan, Storm wants to see us,” someone called out from the end of the hallway, cutting through your rambling but he didn’t even look at the owner of the voice. Instead, a small smirk curled his lips as if he was amused with your nonsense and you swallowed thickly, biting at your thumb again.

“I’m Logan by the way,” he said and you raised your brows, then nodded fervently.

“Y/N,” you introduced yourself, lowering your hand. “Hello.”

“Hi.”

The silence that fell upon you felt like it would explode your head so you cleared your throat, throwing your shoulders back.

“I should—I should get back to work before I get fired,” you stammered, jerking your thumb over your shoulder and took a step, then turned around on your heels. “But um, nice to meet you.”

“You too,” he said, his voice completely calm unlike yours and you shot him a tentative smile, then made your way out of the hallway, then walked out of the building as fast as you could as if someone was chasing you.

“Oh I’m an idiot,” you sang to yourself, drawing out the last syllable like an opera singer while fished your car keys out of your backpack, your heart still beating in your ears. “I’m an idiot, I’m such an idiot…”

 The moment you got in your car, you heaved a sigh and pressed your palms on your eyes but your head shot up when your phone started ringing. You unzipped your backpack to grab it, then tossed the backpack back in the passenger seat and checked the screen to see your best friend’s name. You let out a breath, then touched the screen and took it to your ear.

“Julie, I’m an idiot I think,” you greeted her and she paused for a moment.

“Hello to you too sunshine,” she said with a laugh. “What happened?”

“Well the good news is, Theo liked the school,” you said, looking out the window at the mansion. “But I miss him already. Do you think—”

“You’re not changing your mind about this, we talked about helicopter parenting,” she said. “It’s going to be good for him.”

“Right.”

“Is that why you’re freaking out?”

“Not really but I will cry about it,” you pointed out. “Tonight I’m guessing.”

“Didn’t expect anything else, I’m bringing drinks to your place,” she said. “So? What is it then?”

“There’s a very, very, very attractive man there,” you murmured and she hummed.

“Just so I get it clear, how attractive is he again?”

“Very.”

You could practically hear her grin. “Good.”

“It’s not good!” you whined. “I’ve made a fool of myself.”

“It’s a part of your charm.”

“It really isn’t,” you said and looked down at your clothes. “And I look like a tax collector.”

“People other than tax collectors wear white shirts, we’ve been over that.”

“He thinks I’m a tax collector who can’t form a logical sentence,” you said, slipping a little in the driver’s seat to lean your knees to the steering wheel and she scoffed.

“Not really, he probably thinks you’re a—”

“We’re not calling me that,” you cut her off, making her laugh.

“Fine.”

You pinched your lip between your knuckles, then heaved a sigh.

“Theo will be okay, right?”

“He will be more than okay because he is going to be surrounded by the people who can in fact teach him how to use his powers, something you can’t do,” she said. “There’s nothing wrong with getting a little help, sunshine.”

You clicked your tongue, still keeping your gaze on the mansion.

“So let me guess,” she said, pulling you out of your thoughts. “This very very very hot man is tall.”

“Yes.”

“Looks cocky.”

“Uh…”

“And older than you.”

You blinked a couple of times, pulling your brows together. “How did you—?”

“You have a type.”

You drummed your fingernails on the steering wheel, then heaved a sigh.

“It’s fine,” you said. “I…I doubt I’ll talk to him ever again and you know, with Theo, I just don’t have the time for anything else right now.”

“I’m going to convince you otherwise but I’m going to need drinks for that.”

You breathed out a laugh, then checked the time.

“Gotta go,” you said. “I’ll see you tonight then?”

“Yep, love you!”

“Love you too!” you said and hung up, then tossed the phone on the passenger seat and started the car.

“Alright,” you muttered to yourself. “I’m so gonna get drunk tonight.”

[2] - Summer Breeze

[kitasuno]

i'll keep every promise (if it's a promise with you) | oikawa tooru x reader

oikawa tooru has a bad habit of breaking promises and running from his first love. or: the four times oikawa breaks his promises and the one time he keeps one

( a / n ) - oh my god this is my magnum opus... my baby.. its a little bit of angst and a little bit of fluff and a little slice of life. u go through ages 6 to 28 LMFAO. iwaizumi + you + oikawa were such a fun trio to write for and i hope u guys enjoy !!

gn! reader | 2k words | happy birthday OIKAWA

Oikawa Tooru has a guilty conscience and a bad habit of breaking his promises. 

For every promise made and every promise broken, Tooru repents: 200 yen slid in a saisen-bako, a ninety degree bow, two wishes at a shrine. An offering to counter every promise he breaks, ample water to wash away his sins, and apologies written on wood.

 ( Iwaizumi has made the grand suggestion of: Maybe not breaking your promises? on several occasions, but Tooru can’t help it. ) 

He’s broken four promises and made eight wishes so far: four on blue Tanzaku and four atop Ema boards, followed with a prayer and an offering if the promise broken was particularly heinous or particularly his fault. 

He breaks his first promise at six years old– one made with you and Iwaizumi when the three of you were four and freshly neighbors. It was Tooru’s birthday, and he had promised this: 

I swear that I will take us all to the Ryokan before I turn six.

It’s a small promise: one that neither you nor Hajime had expected him to follow through with. But Tooru believed it, and Tooru had tried. He takes every single chore and odd job in the Oikawa household, scraping together a two-year-old Ryokan trust fund with mismatched coins and crumpled bills. He saves his allowances and puts everything in a glass jar next to his bed, and dreams.

Two Julys pass. Oikawa blows out four candles and then five, the jar gets bigger, you start Elementary school, and you and Hajime forget about the Ryokan. And then, on the third July, when Tooru turns six, you and Iwaizumi find Tooru mumbling about a broken promise— courtesy of his failure to take the three of you on an all inclusive trip to that Snow Monkey Ryokan that Iwaizumi wanted to go to. 

So he apologizes through prayers at a shrine and two wishes under a red Torii gate. It’s a thirty five stair climb to the neighborhood shrine: Hajime and Tooru race up and you come last, but the view is gorgeous and Tooru feels considerably less guilty.

It is 100 yen for each wish on a colored paper strip. Hajime says they’re called Tanzaku. Hajime drops one coin, Tooru drops four, you drop two. Seven thunks, four wishes. 

Tooru gets the honor of tying your tanzaku on bamboo branches as the tallest of your trio, and with it, the honor of reading your wishes.

Iwaizumi’s wish is messy and scrawled on bright red— Tooru tells him to Please work on your handwriting, but it’s legible and all well wishes for volleyball and you and Oikawa and cicadas.

Tooru’s got two wishes— a cyan one and a turquoise one, but he only lets you and Hajime read the cyan one. His cyan one is a little neater than Iwaizumi’s and reads:

Sorry I couldn’t take us to the Monkey Ryokan. 

He hangs the red one on his tippy-toes. Cyan next. Hajime cheers a little when Tooru hangs turquoise next to your pink one, and then asks: 

“Whaddya need two wishes for anyways?” 

He shrugs. 

“Guilty conscience, maybe?”

You’re thirteen when Tooru promises that he is going to ask you out in two years. Tooru is not allowed to date until he’s in high school, so he tells you under a blanket of stars that when the two of you are a little older, he will ask you out properly and maybe take you on a date. 

He walks you to school every morning. Hajime comes too, but the pink skies before the sun rises are for you and Tooru. Moments before you make it to Iwaizumi’s block are moments that Tooru gives you his scarf, and then his gloves, and when the wind bites at your cheeks too hard his jacket is draped over your shoulders. On rainy days, Tooru holds the umbrella and laughs as your fingers brush and your cheeks flush. Some mornings he brings you toast: and tells you in hushed whispers to eat it before Iwa-Chan sees. 

Oikawa and Iwaizumi walk you home after cram school and volleyball practice. Hajime’s house is first— so Iwaizumi bows first, heads back inside first, waves goodnight first. When the door closes and the light turns on, the black sky and twinkling stars are for you and Tooru. He always says Good Night saccharine sweet with a smile like the sun that makes you feel like you really can’t wait to turn fifteen. 

Oikawa blows out fourteen candles. The three of you graduate in blue and walk home like usual. Summer passes, another July goes by, Oikawa blows out fifteen candles, and high school starts.

You learn several things in your first year at high school: you really like the student council, Hajime is actually pretty smart, and Tooru is afraid of commitment. 

Tooru is popular: he is athletic and tall and the Volleyball Club’s golden first year. He smiles at the girls in his class, he slings arms around their shoulders, he winks when he passes by the student council room, and he preens a little and shines a lot.

Oikawa is fifteen when he goes on his first date with a girl from another school: and when he tells you and Iwaizumi after he gets home, he plays dumb as Hajime gives him a look and takes you home, overhearing Iwaizumi’s apologies and your crestfallen voice as you say something about a promise.

Oikawa’s chest hurts that night so he walks to the shrine with 200 yen in his pocket and a sorry scrawled on two pieces of colored Tanzaku. 

Oikawa turns sixteen and goes to the shrine again. 

This time, it’s a broken promise with a girl in his class. She was popular– she smelled like cotton candy and reminded Tooru of strawberries and daisies, so when she asked Tooru out, he had said Sure, and he had smiled like she was the sun. 

But he’s a bad boyfriend– a terrible boyfriend– because he’s only there when it’s convenient and he ditches her for volleyball practice and maybe sometimes he catches himself thinking about a certain childhood friend when she holds his hand and buys him milk bread at lunch. 

She was sweet and she was terribly pretty, but he doesn’t feel anything when she kisses him or when she rests her head on his shoulder.

Iwaizumi asks him what he’s running from after practice one day. Tooru knows Iwaizumi is asking why he is running from you. 

Tooru is a little scared of how you make him feel too much. Oikawa likes being in control and Oikawa likes stability, so when he realizes that his heart thumps erratically whenever you’re around and he finds himself all consumed with thoughts of you and a burning desire to please you; he rejects and refrains. And runs.

His girlfriend dumps him after a few months. Tooru says sorry, removes her phone contact, and faintly remembers a promise he made with her four weeks ago. 

I swear I’m not in love with someone else. 

from: tooru (23:20) shrine time!!! ٩(◕‿◕｡)۶

from: hajime (23:21) You broke another promise?? Ur a piece of shit lol

from: tooru (23:22) iwaaa chan U￣ｰ￣U  ur so mean !

from: you (23:24) bro . don’t tell me it was about ur ex ur a manwhore !!!!

from: hajime (23:25) Average Shittykawa moment

from: tooru (23:25) i can’t help it !! (✿ ♥‿♥)  everyone wants a piece of me !!! ill pick u guys up and we’ll go to the shrine and ramen after plsss ☆

from: hajime (23:26) Ur treat?

from: tooru (23:27) iwa-chan’s treat !! i’m going through a nasty breakup, remember ? \_( ◉ 3 ◉ )_/¯

from: you (23:29) hajime we know his address we can burn his room down

from: tooru (23:30) OK FINE my treat! it’s on me!!! everyone say thank you tooru !!!

from: hajime (23:31) thank you tooooruuu chan (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧

tooru and y/n reacted with: Scared !

from: tooru (23:32) um please don’t do that ever again

Oikawa’s fourth promise is one to himself and one to Seijoh. 

We will make it to Nationals. 

He doesn’t leave his room for a week when he breaks it. He’s inconsolable. He says he’s sick: he’s got a bad fever, it’s contagious, he’s bedridden, he’s fine. But the lights are never on in his room, his curtains are always drawn, and you know that Tooru devoted everything for a chance and a dream and a volleyball. 

He comes to you first. He’s standing in your doorway and there are bags under his eyes and he says, Hi, and then, I’m fine. He tries for a smile— and then you give him a look, and suddenly he’s in your arms and sobbing. 

He cries for two hours. Tooru ugly cries– his chest racks when he sobs and his arms are tight around you and digging into your back. Oikawa Tooru is not weak: but he is not a prodigy.  

He falls asleep in your bed with his head in your lap and your hands in his hair, but his eyebrows are furrowed and he’s shifting a lot and he’s probably having a nightmare. You call Hajime before gently shaking Tooru awake. 

He blinks up at you— all puffy eyes and tousled hair and swollen cheeks, but he sees you and he softens.

“Wanna go to the shrine?”

Iwaizumi still grumbles the whole way up the thirty five steps, but he’s quiet as Oikawa slips two coins into the saizen-bako. Hajime wraps an arm around your shoulder as the coins rattle in the box and you know he’s upset too— his hands are slightly shaking and he keeps sniffing. Nationals might have been Oikawa’s dream but Iwaizumi was also a dreamer, and sure, Oikawa was going to go, but they were going to go together.

Tooru hangs two Ema boards and for the first time, he bows at the Honden. Two claps. Head down and hands together as he prays. Iwaizumi joins him: and you watch as Oikawa apologizes to him and Hajime shakes his head- because it was Hajime’s promise too. 

Oikawa is twenty-eight and on a plane when he finally keeps his first promise. 

It’s a small promise: but a promise nonetheless, one that he made before he left for Argentina. He tells you he loves you at the airport but he has his boarding pass in one hand and his passport in the other. And you tell him you love him too, but also that he’s being unfair, and no you won’t go out with him. And Oikawa knew you would say that, but he still finds himself making a promise– a promise you laugh at because Oikawa Tooru never keeps his promises.

If we’re still single in ten years, I’m going to find you, and I’m going to ask you out. 

You cry, and Tooru wraps his arms around you and cries too— and then Iwaizumi’s there, and Iwaizumi’s crying, and you don’t know which part of you is Oikawa or Iwaizumi. Oikawa leaves for Argentina with a heavy heart but a hunger for the future. 

In the ten years that pass he plays a lot of volleyball. He tans a lot. He learns some Spanish. He tries beach volleyball. And then, he buys a plane ticket on his birthday. 

from: y/n (21:12) happy birthday tooru !! me n hajime r having an honorary drink for u. hope ur having fun in argentina!!! hajime and i say te amo !!!!

from: tooru (21:15) i’d like a hot sake plssss thank u!!! ( ˙▿˙ )

from: y/n (21:15) LMFAO. no. me and haji r drinking ASAHI DRRRRRRYYYYYYYY for u bro also hajime got BUFF wat the hell hope ur tanning good in argentina 

from: tooru (21:16) well tell BUFF iwa chan that ill be there in 5 and i want a HOT SAKE and also YES i tanned good SO EYES OFF IWAIZUMI

from: y/n (21:17) ? what? ur funny lol … TOORU?

Tooru is twenty eight and might retire soon. Thirty five stairs is too many to climb and keeping promises is far more fun than breaking them. So he taps your shoulder, hands Iwaizumi your bouquet, and takes your cheeks in his palms to tilt your chin over. 

“Hi!” He says. 

 Tooru bends down to kiss you. 

[skzdarlings]

lady-like ; skz ; chan x reader

original ask: requested by anonymous: ❛ i'd say you need someone to put you in your place. ❜ W CHAN I BEG OF YOU + original ask: requested by anonymous: “You want gentle? Wrong fucking address”+ Chan <3

pairing: bang chan/reader content info: enemies to lovers, established lovers. criminal!chan, masked!chan. dom!chan, sub!reader (background mentions of switching). choking, floor sex, rough sex, dirty talk. brief mention of some sexism in the workplace. word count: 2050 words.

masterlist. part of the valentine’s day stories series. credit to prompts. requests are closed.

enjoy!

-

It is the middle of the night and you are patrolling the art gallery yourself.  You do not trust your colleagues or the security team tonight.  No one believes there is any way to track the SKZ gang but you have found an undoubted pattern.  That motley band of thieves have struck this gallery more than once, making off with paintings and artifacts alike, but tonight you will catch them.

Tonight you will catch him.   

Your thought conjures him like a devil.  You turn a corner and a gloved hand escapes the shadows, covering your mouth.  You are yanked backwards, right into his chest, your back to his front. 

You feel a moment of satisfaction because ha, you were right.  No one believed you but you knew SKZ would strike tonight. 

Then you are furious because those rotten thugs are probably making off with a priceless artifact while their leader holds you hostage. 

“Hey there,” Bang Chan says in that too-friendly drawl.  “How’s my favourite girl tonight?”

You try biting his hand but the leather of his glove is quite thick.  Probably on purpose.  You have left more than one bite mark on him in past encounters.   

“Ah-nah-nah,” he says, steadying you when you wriggle. “Stop that.  We both know how this ends.  Let’s play nice this time instead, yeah?” 

You answer by stomping on his foot and throwing your head back.  The smack surprises him and he stumbles, giving you an opportunity to turn and brace yourself in a more defensible stance.  You face him, hands up, adrenaline thundering through your body. 

Chan is wearing all black, including a beanie and mask.  He removes the hat, revealing hair just as black, but keeps the mask while rubbing his jaw.  The half-hidden face somehow makes the dark intensity of his eyes look even more severe. 

You and Chan have a played a long game of cat-and-mouse.  You are so used to his teasing that you almost forget he is dangerously competent man.  A criminal.  A criminal you despise.   A criminal who is undoubtedly grinning at you under that mask, given the way his eyes crinkle with mirth.  It should not make your heart race. 

“Ouch,” he says.  He takes a step towards you, inching out of the shadows.  “You’ve been training.  Impressive.” 

“Not like I had a choice,” you snap. “Some no good criminal keeps attacking my art gallery.” 

“Criminal, yeah,” Chan says.  “But no good?  Really?”  He flicks a hand your way, not so much striking as testing your reflexes.  You bat it successfully and his eyebrows lift, showing he is moderately impressed.  

“You’re a dirty thief,” you say, taking a swing of your own.  Yours is much more deliberate, swinging at his head, but he dodges just as easily. 

You scamper backwards, his booted steps following swiftly.  You keep your hands up in defense.  He is still smirking under that mask. 

“Thief, yeah,” he continues to tease.  “But dirty?  Well… I suppose you’d know…” 

Heat pulses under your skin. 

This cat-and-mouse game has crossed many lines.  You cannot even remember how it first happened.  It feels like Bang Chan has always been in the shadows, stealing paintings and kisses alike.  One moment you were snarking at the infuriating cat burglar, then your hands were in his hair and his mouth was on yours. 

Sometimes he wins, distracting you or holding you, giving his team time to make off with something.  Sometimes you win, trapping him or his men and only letting them go if they relinquish their prize.  Weirdly, Chan seems to like it when you outsmart him.  It quite literally puts him on his knees.

Flustered, your next swing is more emotional than strategic.  He catches your arm and spins you again, trapping you against his body.  You grunt and struggle in his arms. 

“That’s not very polite, you know,” he says.  “I thought you said you were a lady.”

Yes, you have made such an insistence in the past, reminding him you are a lady of class, an educated woman, an intelligent academic.  He did not argue.  He did pin you to the wall and choke you in that infuriatingly delicious way, the way that gets you coming all over his hand in a second.   That’s it, he said, with a hand around your throat and another under your skirt.  Tell me what a lady you are.  Letting a criminal like me make you come.  Tsk, what would your co-workers say? 

You stamp the memory down because it is getting you hot.   He is holding you differently than before, so you cannot swing your head back again.  You writhe uselessly. 

“I didn’t just say I was a lady,” you snap.  “I am a lady.  I am a respected professional, unlike you—”

“I’m respected and professional, thank you,” he says, his tone still bright like he is having fun. 

It is fun. You hate to admit it, but it is.  Before he started breaking into your galleries, every day was the same.  Your life was such a monotony and you dread returning to it. There is a reason you never call the authorities on him.  There would be no triumph in that demise. You would lament his absence and forever feel like business went unfinished. 

You are satisfied when you can face this dangerous man and win, when you can push him on his back and put him in his place, when all that danger and power and skill surrenders to you and you alone.  Because Bang Chan has a notorious reputation for a lot of things, but fraternizing with civilians is not one of them.   

Except you. 

Except right now. 

“You know what I say, little miss lady?” he asks.

He gives you no time to answer.  Your breath catches when he circles that gloved hand around your throat and squeezes.  It softens every part of you immediately, like a kitten grabbed by the scruff, instinctively and animalistically submissive in the claws of something powerful. 

You whimper, your knees going weak.  You know you are wet.  You know he knows. 

He pulls you against him.  You can feel every hard plane of his body, his bulky body armour, his weapons.  You feel either a buckle or his bulge against your body, but either way it is irrevocably suggestive.   When you wriggle, he squeezes your throat, and you go pliant again. 

“I’d say,” he whispers, “you need someone to put you in your place.”   

Oh, he has talked about your place many times before.  It’s with me, he will insist, fucking you within an inch of your life, making you come again and again, putting you on your knees and bringing out all the hidden dark and dirty parts of yourself.  Come on, he will say, we’re perfect for each other, yeah? You know it.  Join my team.  Come with me. 

You do admit, he respects your keen eye and talent, and he acknowledges your expertise far more than the other people at your gallery.  It took a year to even be allowed to do substantial tasks, relegated to fetching everyone’s coffee, getting spoken down to because you were a woman whose ambition was considered a nuisance. 

That is not enough to resort to a criminal life.  Surely? 

But for a moment, you can imagine giving into the darkness permanently.  Tonight, it is you that surrenders as he drags you both into the shadows and onto the floor.  He takes off his jacket and lays it out, pushing you down face-first onto it.  You take a dizzying gulp of air while his hands are occupied, removing his gloves, unbuckling his utility belt.   

You wait for the moment he lifts your skirt.  His breath catches when he realizes you are not wearing anything underneath.

You yelp because he smacks your ass.  You look back at him with as much fury as you can muster in your haze of lust. 

“A lady,” he says, grabbing your hips and tugging you back.  “Sure.” 

“I am,” you say, but your voice is rough, your breathing heavy just from his bare fingers gliding down your wet pussy, the evidence of your desire betraying your claims of propriety. 

“Sure, baby girl,” he says, because he knows it annoys you even while it makes you clench.  He can see the evidence of that too, swearing as he looks at you, making you feel even more exposed and flustered.   “You’re made for me, you know that, sweetheart?  Always feel so good on my dick.  God.” 

“You’re taking your time tonight,” you say dryly.  “Getting sentimental?  Turning into the slow and gentle type?” 

He laughs.  Then he grabs you by the neck, pinning you to the floor as he sidles up behind you.  The head of his cock presses at your entrance, wet with anticipation. 

“You want gentle?” he asks.  He is inside you with one deep thrust.  “Wrong fucking address.”

The truth is, even when rough, he is careful.  Your face never leaves his jacket and he knows where to squeeze and hit and press properly.   Bizarrely, ridiculously, you are safe in this criminal’s dangerous hands.   The biggest threat they pose are just how skilled and deft they are, making you forget about all of those details as he manhandles you and fucks your worries away. 

He wraps a hand around your throat and lifts you.  He is still in his mask, still almost entirely clothed except his undone fly.  Your skirt is up, your shirt in disarray, your chest and throat exposed to his hands.  You can hear him panting into his mask, your own breath as wild until he steals it.  You clench around him, making a weak, ragged sound as he chokes you and pounds into you. 

“You’re not gonna come like this, are ya?” he taunts, because he knows your body well, can feel you are the on verge just from his angles and rhythm.  “Tsk,” he says.  “That’s not very lady-like.”

You would tell him to shut up, but you can only manage a weepy moan as he drives you over the edge of a mind-numbing orgasm.  You feel drenched, dripping down your thighs, and he still doesn’t relent, pushing you back down and holding your hips as he drills through every sensitive nerve. 

“Fuck,” you say, twisting your fingers around his jacket.  Your knees will probably be bruised after this.  No short skirts or everyone will know something happened.  Would they guess you let the most notorious burglar in the country arch your back and fuck you on the floor?  Probably not.  You have always been a stickler for rules. 

Until this.  Until him. 

“Chan,” you say, breathless, rasping.  “Chan.”

“Fuck,” he says.  Then the weight of him is on your back, his hips grinding into yours.  His masked face brushes your ear and he speaks in a low voice, “Guess where I’m coming tonight, baby girl.” 

Your walls are still fluttering with aftershocks, pulling him deeper at his words.  It is not the first time, no.  God only knows how long ago that conversation first happened, telling him it was safe, how much you wanted it.   Letting him do things you never let anyone else do.  Breaking all your rules for him. 

“Fuck, Chan,” you say. 

“Yeah, baby,” he rasps.  “That’s who’s fucking you.  No one fucks you like I do.  God.  You can take it.  So good.” 

You can feel when he comes, his chest vibrating with his groan, the warmth inside you.  You slump in his arms, ravaged and sore and not the least bit sorry for it. 

You should be.  He won this round.  You should be furious at him.  You should be threatening him.  Your usual rapport. 

His mask comes off.  You hear it hit the floor.  Then he is grabbing your jaw and turning your face and kissing you deeply.  He holds your throat, not threateningly but possessively.  He is kissing you for so long, you almost forget who you are.  Then you surface.  You look at each other. 

“Come with me,” he says. 

The haze of lust has vanished.  You should be thinking clearly.  You fear, for the first time, you are.    

You suppose he has stolen everything else, why not you too? 

You put your hand in his.   

[dark-konohagakure2]

Since your writing for black butler now how about sebastian x younger naïve reader maybe like ciels older sister

tw: dub/noncon, age difference, corruption, abuse of power, size difference, risky sex, virginity loss, blackmail, period typical misogyny

All characters depicted are 18+

Sebastian, despite not being human, isn't immune to sexual desire entirety. While demons don't experience attraction in the same way that humans do, they still feel it, and Sebastian's primary sexual attraction is towards those whom he can take advantage of.

While the terms of his Faustian contract prevents him from doing anything to harm his young master Ciel, there is a loophole, he technically wouldn't be harming or betraying the Earl by taking advantage of his elder sister, so that is exactly what Sebastian plans to do.

It isn't too hard, Sebastian has nearly unlimited access to his young lady given how busy Ciel is and how dimwitted the other servants are, and she's a naive and trusting young woman who's oblivious to Sebastian's true nature, so he can take advantage of her as easily as he can breathe.

He's tasked with assisting her in getting dressed every morning, so Sebastian is very accustomed to seeing her naked body, and he very much likes what he sees. It's a morning like any other when the demon butler finally decides to strike. He'll be helping her get undressed, but then he'll 'accidently' forget to give her a dress, but she has nothing to fear, because Sebastian has a solution to this mundane little problem.

"Ah, my apologies My Lady, but it seems I've forgotten to bring you your clothes for the day. Well, no matter, you can simply assist me with finding you the correct one in the closet..."

As soon as the closet door is shut behind them, Sebastian makes his move. He'll firmly force his gloved hand over her mouth, gently shushing her as she spreads her now trembling legs apart, testing her wetness with his skilled fingers. The naive young lady doesn't fully understand what he's doing, but Sebastian insists that she can trust her dutiful butler.

Despite his appearance as a tall and lean man, Sebastian is a very well endowed demon, so his thick cock will stretch her poor untouched hole to its limits as he bullies it inside of her, but he's an attentive butler, so he'll soothe and shush his young mistress if she's struggling and crying too much, reminding her that denying a man's needs is very unladylike.

Sebastian can just barely keep up his gentlemanly persona when he's balls deep inside of the object of his dark desires, the red color in his eyes glowing and becoming more pronounced as he pounds away at the poor girl, his hand still clamped over the young woman's mouth as he moves in and out of her, hardly able to hold back his primal demonic urge to bite down all the way into her throat.

Sebastian doesn't bother to pull out when he finally climaxes, he's almost certain that a demon can't impregnate a human, and even if he's wrong, she's at childbearing age anyway, so he'd be doing her a favor. When he's finished with her he'll almost instantly assume his butler persona again, but not before giving her some friendly advice.

"Th-There... I must say that felt great, my little lady... Do run along now, and don't speak of this to anyone. We don't want the Young Master to think his dear sister is a strumpet now do we?"

Sebastian's implicit threat seemed to work, as the young Phantomhive keeps her mouth shut about what happened between the two of them in the closet, this pleases the demon greatly, and now he gets to have a new human plaything to use as he sees fit.

[miniimight]

MISSING A DATE . they forget about a big date with you and realize it too late

with deku + bakugou (in their pro-hero era)

one thing about him is that he always tried his absolute best to make time for you amid his busy schedule. you understood that you weren't the only one that demanded his attention due to his work and were okay with that. as long as you still got your 'me-time' with him, where he blocked out the world and focused on you and only you, you couldn't ask for a more perfect relationship.

but this was your last straw. you had forgiven the late nights, the last-minute cancellations—gotten used to being alone in your luxurious apartment, which only reminded you of the one thing you were missing.

you had planned this date for months. a set time where you both blocked off time that night to just be with each other in a word that tried everything to keep you apart.

"remember tonight, baby." you chirped as you kissed him goodbye that morning.

he hummed and gave you a tight hug before leaving.

you felt giddy as you prepared yourself, slipping into your best clothes and fixing yourself in the mirror. you felt as you did on the night of your first date with him. you couldn't be more excited.

then, you waited. and waited. the restaurant happily sat you next to a window, the streetlamps twinkling romantically against the dusky backdrop.

you waited some more. soon your bright posture slouched as your checked your phone. messaged him a couple times, called a few times more. he's probably just running late.

families came and went, and before you knew it, hours had passed.

you burned in embarrassment as you stared at the empty chair across from you, focusing your frustration as if he was sitting there. but even that didn't give you relief. every one of your thoughts and feelings came to the same conclusion—

he hadn't shown up.

IZUKU

you ordered some food to-go. why not get something out of this outing? besides, the food would do good to distract you from the dread swirling in your stomach. you flashed the server a quick smile before dragging your feet out the restaurant.

you threw your bag, coat, and shoes to the ground as you walked into your apartment, uncaring of where they ended up. you needed the couch, a movie, and the food you were carrying.

a few hours later, izuku showed up. you heard the door slide open and the jangle of his keys. his heavy sigh was familiar and it almost made you feel bad for feeling so angry about him missing this date. almost.

you made no move to greet him as he entered the living space, a big grin plastered on his face. "you look pretty."

the compliment was just salt on the wound, ironically. you hummed, remaining laser focused on your show.

he tugged off his white gloves and set them on the table. "what's got you all dressed up tonight, hmm?" he sat next to you, running his hands up and down your arm.

you just handed him one of the takeout boxes. "want some?" you said dryly.

"what's this—? oh, i recognize the name of this restaurant..." he surveyed the box in his hands, his voice becoming quieter as he sunk into his thoughts. "oh."

you got off the couch.

"oh." he repeated, staring at the takeout box incredulously. "baby, don't tell me tonight was—"

"it was." you said simply, walking into the bedroom. you couldn't bear to look at him.

"fuck." you heard him hiss. a light thudding followed as he hurried after you. "y/n, god, i'm so sorry—don't tell me you went there alone—"

"izuku, i don't care anymore." you turned around abruptly, making him skid to a halt before you. his expression read shock. "i don't."

he slumped and inched closer to you. "no, don't say that—"

"you don't give me a reason to care anymore." you laughed wryly though your lips trembled. "i—" your breath hitched and you turned away from him.

his voice sounded watery as he tried to turn your body to face him again. "i'm so sorry, there was a hangout at the agency after work today and... shit, i totally forgot—"

"a fucking party?" you snapped. "you blew off the date you and i planned for months in advance because we never get to spend time together anymore to hang out with the same goddamn people you see every single day?"

he groaned. "i know, i know—"

"you don't know, izuku." your voice quivered. "you don't, okay?" you sobbed.

he was stunned to silence, unsure of how to right something so horribly wrong.

"you don't know what it's like to always be waiting. i'm always waiting for you. you always have something better to do." you sobbed, sitting on the edge of the bed. you really didn't want to have this conversation with him; you knew you'd break down sobbing. you thought it would've been best if he didn't come back home at all.

he knelt beside you, resting his head where your knees hung over the bed. he stared up at your heartbroken face with tears threatening to flow. "there is nothing that deserves my time more than you." he said firmly.

"you say that as if it's true." you said quietly. "but you don't even..." you looked away from him to reign in your emotions.

he frowned deeply. he knew it was all his fault. you reminded him this morning and he still forgot. you had no reason to believe the words coming out of his mouth. that doesn't mean he's going to stop trying to prove them.

he rested his head against your stomach and wrapped his arms around you tightly. "you have every right to hate me right now, y/n. you've been lonely and overlooked and i haven't done anything to make things better."

you refused to look at him.

he tilted his head with hopes of catching your gaze. "y/n, i mean it. there's nothing that deserves my time more than you. anyone else would've left me. you've given me love and understanding with my hero work..." he choked on his words, finally facing the reality of his relationship. "and i've just taken it and left you behind."

you sniffled.

he stood, bending at the waist to kiss your forehead. "i love you. so much. it's time i start proving it, huh?"

your eyes flickered to his, questioning evident on your expression.

he smiled sadly. "japan has many heroes. i'm sure kacchan and todoroki can handle things without me for a while."

you huffed and rolled your eyes. "very funny. you're a hero, izuku, it's in your nature to shoulder everything." you pouted, guilt threatening to inhabit your thoughts.

he shook his head, cupping your cheeks in his hands. "i'm dead serious. the world doesn't need me everyday, you do. and i'll adjust my schedule to suit."

"but..." you groaned. "god, why do i feel guilty now?" you mumbled.

"stop it. you're not keeping me away from anything. this was long overdue. nothing would make me happier," he grinned and kissed you again before tackling you in a hug.

BAKUGOU

you left the restaurant without another word, feeling so sick to the stomach that you couldn't even bear to go home to the empty apartment.

you tried desperately to convince yourself that something important was holding him up. he didn't forget. he just had some life-threatening epic battle that he needed to attend to. he didn't forget.

you crashed at a friend's house for the night, after a very satisfying rant session about your dilemma. they were a great soundboard and didn't try to regulate your emotions. in a lot of cases, just letting your feelings fly free was the best way to cope with a situation out of your hands.

rrrring rrring

you saw the caller ID and was tempted to ignore the call. but your hands moved on their own, accepting it and putting the phone to your ear.

"y/n l/n." bakugou snarled on the other side. "where the fuck are you?"

"a friend's house."

"why?"

you shrugged, hoping your unbothered reaction would be translated across the phone. "wanted to be with someone last night after my boyfriend stood me up."

silence. a very long silence. you heard him cuss under his breath before he replied. "yesterday was our date."

you hummed.

"y/n. come home."

"i'm good here, really."

"i'm serious, come home."

"why? the off-chance of seeing you there?"

his voice grew more desperate. "y/n—" his breath caught in his throat. "i'm home. i'm waiting for you. we can do something today, maybe—"

"katsuki, you can't keep treating me like a test that you can make up whenever you fail the real thing. you're not there when it fucking matters." you snapped, your resolve crumbling as your eyes started to water.

he gave a weighted sigh. "you're right. i've been treating you like shit."

you scoffed.

"but you're always on my mind. every time i see you asleep when you were trying to wait up for me, i—" he inhaled deeply, trying to keep it together. "i'm not the best boyfriend. believe me, i know that. and i'm losing you... i can see that, too."

you waited.

he sniffed. "come home, y/n. please. i—"

you hung up. you tossed your phone aside and stretched. you gently wiped at your cheeks, realizing how many tears streaked them.

after thanking your friend for their hospitality, you decided to go home. you dreaded the conversation that awaited you. uncertainty riddled your thoughts; was this the end?

you opened the door and immediately heard pounding footsteps to meet you. bakugou stood there, looking uncharacteristically stressed and awkward.

you just gave him a passing glance as you slipped off your shoes, hanging your coat up. you walked past him, going to the washroom to refresh yourself with a much needed shower.

as the water ran down your skin, you began to feel guilty. he was a hero. he saved lives. and you were crying over a missed date with him? when his mere presence meant the safety of those around him?

no matter how valid your frustration and sadness was, you couldn't help the creeping guilt from overwriting your feelings.

you stepped out of the shower, then dressed comfortably for a night in. when you opened the bathroom door, he was waiting outside like a puppy.

you sighed. "i'm sorry." you finally said.

his neck snapped to look at you. "why the fuck are you apologizing?"

"you're a hero. i knew what i'd be signing up for when i got into a relationship with you—"

"are you crazy?" he growled, grabbing your cheeks and tilting your face to look at him. he searched your eyes with concern, as if there was something wrong with you. "you don't need to apologize. my being a hero is no excuse for the way i've been treating you."

you frowned. "but—"

"no." he pulled you into a hug, wrapping his arms around your head. "you—" he laughed dryly. "i can't believe you thought to apologize to me. you're really crazy."

you opened your mouth to say something, but he cut you off. "i'm so lucky to have you. seriously. i can't live without you and i will do everything to prove that from now on."

you pulled away and looked at him. "you better mean it."

he gave you a lopsided grin. "i do. thanks..." he trailed off.

you cocked your head to the side. "for...?"

he kissed you gently. "staying." he hugged you tightly, his next words barely a whisper, "i'm always gonna be there for you."

amidst a couple of tears, you believed him.

© miniimight ! thanks for reading <3

[princesssmars]

home sweet home

a vi x reader.

the war between the silco and the firelights has gotten tense, and all you want is a day off to rest. but when an old flame returns from the dead you find the energy to give her a welcome home present she won’t forget.

wc: 4.491

contains : fluff, adoptive brother ekko and firelight reader. mentions of vi's abuse in prison :c smut. dry humping and tribbing yippee.

a/n : idk something about being separated for years and celebrating the reunion with rough and/or desperate sex does it for me bro 💔 started this beforeeee everything and hopefully this gets posted the morning of act ones drop <3 update i love vi but i need to kick her ass yayyy enjoy.

-

for lack of a better word, your day was getting really fucking weird.

you woke up with a weird feeling in your stomach, an ache strong enough to rouse you from your sleep and out of your bed. you chalked it up to hunger, having skipped another meal last night to stay up looking over some of the injured firelight’s and new schematics for tools and weapons.

but once you got a good meal into your stomach, staring up at the giant tree you called your home, you realized the feeling wasn’t from neglecting your appetite. it was that feeing you got when something big was about to happen.

you felt it when the breakthroughs were made on some of the bigger inventions like the hoverboards, when the firelights found this impossible and beautiful grove and made it their home, on that day years ago where your life crumbled around you in the space of a few days.

so it was only up to fate if something bad or good would happen today. and you didn’t feel like waiting to find out.

quickly making your way up the tree, you rapidly do your special knock on ekko’s door, only to be met with silence. you try again and silence still. trying and slightly failing to keep yourself calm, you head back down and start asking others if they’ve seen him, the ache in your stomach growing at some of the awkward and shifty responses you get.

for six years you and ekko have been inseparable. both traumatized by the trials of growing up in the undercity, getting taken in by benzo, and then the sudden and bloody death of your friends, you had no one else to depend on except for each other. it was hard to put it lightly, navigating a rapidly changing undercity and taking care of your little adoptive brother while trying to deal with your own trauma. even as you met others and formed this group you now call family, you made a promise to each other to stick side by side no matter what.

and that included not running off and doing god knows what in the early morning while the other was sleeping.

you’re halfway through pulling on your coat and mask when you hear the sound of the main door opening and a small commotion, running as fast as you can to get down the tree again before a tall figure stops you.

he tries to be funny, throwing out a 'hey hey hey, slow down! your running like there’s a fire-ow!' before he holds a gloved hand to the side of his arm, cradling the spot where you punched him. you get a solid minute of berating and cussing him out before the look on his face tells you he's being serious, conflict clear in his brown eyes.

you have about a million questions running in your head as he leads you to one of the stock rooms, his breath inhaling multiple times to explain before he lets it out in frustration.

“just…promise you won’t freak out, ok?”

you nod before he pushes you inside and closes the door behind you.

you scoff, calling his name and knocking on the hard material for him to let you out. you weren’t in the mood today to entertain his hidden playful nature, most of the time you indulged him but you were too worried at the moment. you’re seconds away from cursing him out again when a soft voice calls out your name from the darkness behind you behind you.

no. it’s not possible. it’s deeper, more rugged then you remember, but you wouldn’t, couldn’t forget that voice. you heard it in your dreams for years, pushing you to keep going for yourself when you felt like giving up, reminding you she was always there by your side when you felt so alone.

you slowly turn your body, unconsciously trying to protect yourself from the possibility of this being a farce when two strong arms wrap around your waist and pull you into a sturdy torso. at the slightest glimpse of hit pink hair your eyes start to water and your chest is heaving with long building gasps, wrapping your arms around her shoulders and digging your face into her neck.

for years you’d daydream about this moment, what you’d say if you were reunited with the girl who was your best friend and likely the love of your life. you’d imagine the rushed out words and apologies, the shared wails as you assured the other you’d never leave their side again. but this silence just feels so right, makes so much sense for all the emotions you’ve been letting sit in your heart without any kind of resolution or closure.

she pulls away from you slightly and you hope she ignores the subtle whine that leaves your throat as she does. her large, and you mean really large, palms come up to cup your cheek as she stares at your face, blue eyes flitting across your features like she’s trying to commit every piece of you to memory. you don’t mind, you remember how she liked when you let her observe things so she could take in things as much as possible lest they be gone in a second. it just gives you an excuse to stare at her, too.

and gods above are you staring. obviously a large part of you is sentimental and sad as you see how much she’s changed over the years; the longer jagged shapes of her jaw, her nose. your heart pangs seeing the cuts in her brow and lip that you unconsciously bring a finger up to rub at. but it takes an embarrassing amount of strength not to pay attention just to her lips as you feel over the scar, how her bright eyes go wide and unblinking as she stands and lets you do whatever it is you’re doing.

you want to do anything to break the tension and you’re given the opportunity when your eyesight drifts slightly to the right and catches onto the tattoo on her upper cheek.

“did you…tattoo your name on your face?”

you’re still so close you can feel her laugh rather than hear it, her chest pressing into your when she huffs through her nose.

“wanted to make sure the guys in there knew who was kicking their asses without the need for introductions.”

“still punching first yelling insults later?”

“nothing anybody in there didn’t deserve.”

gods does your heart hurt for her. you knew it was likely other people like her were probably in stillwater, disposed of to cover someone’s ass or see as thrash just for where they were born. but you knew despite that she would have faced so much being thrown in there at such a young age that you not anyone else could understand, the way they must have treated her…

even after all these years it’s like she can ready your body language like a book, able to know your fingers stalling in their exploration means your mind is wandering, and given the previous subject matter she knows it can’t be good. her bandaged fingers gently wrap around yours and rub over your knuckles until your attention is back on her.

“hey, stay with me for now. we’ll have time to go over all that stuff later. right now just stay with me, alright?”

like you could ever say no to her.

you figure the best way to make progress until your much needed conversation is yo acquaint her with where your sure she’ll be staying until she gets back on her feet, however she chooses to do so. at first she seems uncomfortable with the idea of staying at the base, like she doesn’t want to intrude on the home you and others had built from the ground up.

“obviously i’ll help with anything you guys ask but are you sure everyone would be alright with me staying here? i kind of punched the shit out of that scar guy.”

“he’ll get over it just like everyone else. you’re a legend here, vi, you’re up on that mural for a reason.”

the whole time you show vi around you feel a warm mess in your chest. you forgot just how nice it was to spend time with her, thinking back on fond memories of the two of you sneaking away when the others were busy to spend time together on the safer and quieter parts of the undercity. your feelings aren’t helped with how close vi insists on being, hand never leaving your grasp as you tug her around and occasionally bumping her shoulder into yours when your mind wanders.

you’re recounting the story of how one of the hoverboards went haywire and crashed into one of the bases walls when a low rumble from the side of you cuts you off, footsteps halting you in place. when you turn to vi she has that same cute embarrassed look she used to have when you were younger, eyes wide and body still like if she didn’t move you wouldn’t acknowledge what just happened.

she knows better than to argue with you as you drag her pliant body somewhere, most likely to get her something to eat after only having some scarfed down jerichos a few hours ago. you bc lead her to some small communal dining area before not so gently guiding her to sit, eyes on her form for a few seconds to make sure she won’t be stubborn and refuse to let you grab some food for her.

and why would she even think of resisting when she can sit here and finally get a few minutes to just relax. ever since cait somehow managed to get her out of prison her body had been on, sheer stubbornness and willpower keeping her going until she found what she was looking for. a part of her knew she wouldn’t stop searching, wouldn’t stop hoping to see you and her sister again.

but as she watches you across the room pick and prod over a meal a vastayan is helping to out on your plate her shoulders unclench and the muscles in her legs ease. nothing felt better than when you’d dote over her. she remembers one time she caught a flu and had to stay inside and distant from everyone, ready to be miserable in solitude until you burst in with vander hot on your heels and insisted you wouldn’t leave her side until she was better, that she’d do the same for you.

which she did have to wind up doing as you caught the sickness from her after only three days. she never once complained.

when you finish her plate you look back to her with a sweet smile and start to walk back over to her. she writhes in her seat a bit under your gaze, suddenly feeling a little too warm when you sit the plate in from of her and tell her to eat up. she tries her best not to scarf this down as well, but when you give her a look that says you know how hungry she she is and won’t mind she can’t help herself.

she spends the rest of the day by your side, never leaving your sight as you introduce her to some of your fellow firelights and some of the younger kids who’d heard stories about her and vander. you can tell it still prods at an unhealed wound to talk about him in past tense, but that she still looks back on those fond memories with happiness. you’re more than happy to join in and help narrate the tale of one of your more adventurous and dangerous trips through the old undercity.

eventually the sun starts to set and the lights of the tree turn from a dazzling green to a soft collection of oranges and yellow, a signal to everyone that it’s time to wind down and end the day. the two of you meet back of with ekko who tells you he had already shown cait to an extra room she could use for the next few days.

“cupcake didn’t put up too much of hassle today, did she? don’t think she’s ever spent this much time past the promenade.”

“she was alright. uptight but i can tell she means well. you can talk to her in the morning, her room is right across from yours.”

you’re paying too much attention to just being in the space of two of your favorite people again that you don’t even notice how vi has turned her head to look at you, silently asking you to ask her for what she hopes you both want. by the time you realize and turn back to ekko he has that dumb little grin on his face that he used to wear all the time he’d catch the two of you getting a little too close for comfort.

“don’t even start, ekko.”

“i didn’t say anything! i’ll catch up with you two tomorrow. try not to be so loud, some of us need a good nights sleep tonight-“

you quickly reach over and swat at the young boys arm as he laughs and hurries away from the two of you, voice carrying as he leaves to head off to sleep.

it’s surreal as you take vi’s hand into yours and start the brisk walk to your personal quarters. you don’t have any expectations about tonight but you can’t lie and say a deep part of yourself isn’t hoping to get more than close with her tonight.

once you reach your bedroom you start shuffling for some clothes for the both of you to wear while she prods and examines all of your things. you watch her for a moment, nearly giving yourself away with a laugh when she nearly breaks the dusty antique snow globe you’d found abandoned on a scrap run.

“it’s crazy, right? how they’ll just abandon things without even thinking about their worth.” you speak offhandedly as you settle yourself on to your bed and start to remove your boots and holsters.

“yeah, no offense but i just. really don’t wanna talk about abandoning things right now.” her tone is malicious enough to make you sit your movements, eyes softening at the broken and tired woman in front of you.

“i’m sorry, i just-“

“no, no, it’s okay. i understand,” you gently reach out your hand to hold hers, locked in that tight fist she does when she’s bottling up her anger. “can you talk to me about it? whatever you want to say, just say it.”

she rolls her shoulder before setting down the globe and sitting on the bed, her tensed back facing you. you gently pass the spare clothes you have for her and watch as she takes them and sets them on her lap.

“every night for the first year i was in there i’d have these nightmares. about what happened. first it was just, replaying what happened on this endless loop. then it was wondering what i could’ve done different, if i could’ve been smarter-“

“vi dont do that,” you crawled over to sit right behind her body placed your hands on her shoulders, gently rubbing them across and down to her forearms. trying to look her in the eye proves useless. “what happened was…tragic, and blaming yourself is pointless. you did what you could, i know you did.”

“how? how could you possibly know?” she finally turns her head to you and the look in her eyes does nothing to help the sick feeling you have building up in your throat and stomach. “i told you to stay with ekko, you weren’t there. how could you not be even a little angry at me, for not being here for powder, for ekko and the firelights, for you?”

you can hear the lump in her throat and see the tears building in her eyes when you bring your hands up to cup her face. a stray tear runs down her face and you brush it away with your thumb.

“i could never be angry at you, vi. not for this. the girl i know always kept fighting for her family, and if she didn’t come back to us it was because she couldn’t. she’d never abandon us, you wouldn’t abandon us.”

she gently nods her head and nuzzles her face into your hands. you give her a minute to calm down, continuing to softly brush her cheeks and her crazy hair out of her eye.

“what is going on with your hair?” you whisper as you struggle to push a strand away and out of her face, giving up once it falls back into place for the tenth time.

her eyebrows scrunch. "what, you dont like it? its cool."

"its covering half of your face, its horrible."

"you'll get used to it." she shakes her head with a small smile before softly resting her hand on your lower waist.

"maybe, but im definitely not going to brush over you tattooing your name on your face. please tell me you didnt make any other rash b ody adjustments in there."

the growing smile on her simultaneously puts butterflies in your stomach and makes you very nervous. its not helped when she turns her back to you again and starts to shrug off her jacket, revealing the previous glimpse of her neck tattoo you'd seen goes further down. way further down.

"wow. that's...wow." you want to bury your head into your hands and leave the room. 'wow just wow?' really smooth. "can i touch?"

"uhhh yeah, no problem."

after she gives her consent your fingertips lightly hover and brush over the interlapping lines of curves inked into her skin. you feel a small thrill seeing the goosebumps rise on her arms when your hands glide down them, taking pride in knowing you can still bring out a physical reaction in her with your touch.

"this is really nice, vi. did you get someone in there to do it for you?"

"nope, did 'em both myself. wasn't exactly the best environment to ask people to have access to your body with a needle for hours at a time."

you hum in response while continuing to observe the tattoo. you can see it goes further down her back and decide to speak without thinking too much about what you're saying.

"can i see the rest of it?"

you're a bit scared at how still she goes, wondering if maybe you crossed a boundary before her hands slowly reach behind her and start to lift the white fabric of her shirt until its full taken off of her body.

you make sure to continue the gentle touches as your hands run down the muscles and planes of her back, continuing to admire the clouds and gears that make up the design. you feel a little pang in your heart when you see the initials of mylo and claggor at the bottom of the tattoo, along with the number of welts and scars on her skin.

"its beautiful, vi." you whisper. her body subtly scooches back on the bed to get closer to your touch. the moment is just shy of overwhelming, which is probably why you leave a small kiss on her shoulder, right where one of the scars starts before trailing down her back a few inches. she lets out a muffled noise and you start to pull away before the strong grip of her palm clasps down on your leg, holding you in place.

you leave more kisses and pecks over the length of her tattoo as your legs start to wrap around her from behind, both of her hands grasping your thighs as she relaxes into the affection. you test the waters when you come back up to her neck, lightly sinking your teeth into her skin.

"oh fuck-" her strained voice hits your ears right before she abruptly pulls out of your arms and tugs you by the arm and leg until your reversed, sitting in her lap with her hands gripping at your hips.

you continue to drag yours up and down her arms, reveling in the fact that you can now see her facial expressions, how her eyes droop and lips part as you slightly scratch at her skin.

you adjust your hips to sit closer to her at the same time she lifts hers up, the friction causing small noises to escape both of your throats. her eyes open up and she stares up at you with those big light blues.

your hand travels up to her hair, running through it as you keep looking at her. "are you sure? i dont wanna push you,"

"you wont, i do. please, just wanna be close to you."

you give in, wrapping your arms around her neck and bringing her into a sweet kiss, reveling in the feel of her arms coming up to grip on your back. its slow and languid as you get used to each other before she adds her tongue to the mix, pulling a moan from your throat as you try to bury yourself even closer into her hold.

you move your focus onto her neck, trailing kisses and bites down and across her throat, as she rocks your bodies together and claws at your back.

"used to dream about this, about you, missed you so much," her voice has a slight rasp to it already that drives you nuts, instantly darting back up to bring her into a messy kiss. she adjusts her knee to rest in between your legs and lifts it up into your core, pulling away to look at you as you moan at the friction.

"jeez, what'd they teach you in there?" you let out a breathy chuckle while you grind down into her knee. your eyes drift close before her gentle kiss to her cheek drags your gaze back to her, unblinking as she watches you come undone for her. her stare along with the hazy smile on her face yanks you to the edge, gasping and moaning as you come in her arms.

you feel almost drunk as you come down from your orgasm, nuzzling into her neck while she presses gentle kisses to your shoulder and the side of your neck. she starts to place your body on the bed before you tug her back on top of you.

"what, aren't you tired?"

"maybe, but not tired enough to stop now. take off your pants."

she grins like she'd just been offered free sweets from a piltovian candy shop for the rest of her life. you try not to giggle as she stumbles off the bed and tugs her pants off before settling her body back on top of yours. she resumes her barrage of kisses and bites into your skin, finally paying some attention to your chest while you bring your hands up to thumb at her nipples, biting your lip at how sensitive she is to the touch.

she wastes no time spreading your legs beneath you and getting your silent agreement before moving her lips to rest over yours, taking a second to drag her fingers through your cunt and stuffing them inside her mouth.

"vi!"

"sorry, was just curious." she leans down to kiss you sweetly before resting her self on you, legs draped over the curves of her arms as she oh so slowly starts to drag herself back and forth over you.

you slightly wish you had done this first as the overstimulation makes it oh so intense for you, the feeling of her hair and clit rubbing over yours nearly sending you into a frenzy. your eyes roll back into your head once she starts to speed up her movements, her soft whines and grunts into your neck only adding to the physical stimulation you're feeling.

your core feels like its on fire when you start to hear the subtle whispers she's letting out into your neck, curses of 'fuck, fuck oh-fuck,' and grunts of your name mix together to create a desperate harmony.

"vi, feels too- oh my god i-"

"i know, baby, i know," she moans, pressing a harsh bite into the underside of your neck. you can feel her smile into it when you involuntarily let out a squeal at the action. "never gonna leave you, pretty. could never leave you, leave this."

you never fancied yourself the possessive type, but the reaction you have to her words definitely proves there's something there as you wrap your hands around her shoulder and squish her down into you again, moaning just a little too loud at the lack of closeness and feeling of her chest rubbing against yours.

you can feel your next orgasm building quick and fast, thighs trembling as you desperately grind your hips into her even harder. you can tell she's close too, hips losing their rhythm as her panting gets even louder. you nudge your face to the side and rub your cheek against hers, thankful she gets the hint to smother both of your noises with an intense kiss.

"fuck, vi, missed you s'much, love this, love you-"

you're grateful that you have some semblance of brain activity left to drag her head down to your neck to bit down as she cums, her groan loud and long as she keeps moving her hips until you cum only a few seconds after she does. you can feel a tear or two escape your eyes, overstimulation so intense you think you see janna for a moment.

both of your chests are rapidly panting as you catch your breaths, dragging your hand through her sweaty hair while she presses gentle kisses over the marks she no doubt left over your chest. now you'll have to wear more layers for a while, but at the moment you cant find it in you to care.

"you have no idea how glad i am that i still have you," you almost dont pick up on the silent whisper she says, muffled by the current kisses. you lazily drag your fingers to lift her up by the chin until she's looking at you, eyes filled with nothing but love and affection.

"you're always gonna have me vi, i promise."

you can tell she has her doubts, you do as well. but she lets herself relax into your hand yet again and wears the tiniest smile while she starts to fall asleep in your embrace.

you gently pull the covers over both of your bodies and follow her into the lull of sleep, falling asleep in vi's arms again for the first time in years.

you have the nicest dreams you've had in years.

[munsonfamilyband]

I have no time right now to elaborate too deeply on this thought but I just had a brain worm and I need to write it down before I forget. Who knows, I may elaborate and make this a whole thing with dialogue tonight, we’ll see. TW for depictions of Steve’s injuries post s4, vomiting, gore(?)

Steve refuses medical treatment at the end of s4, they drop off Eddie and he hides in plain site until it’s time to take Dustin and Robin home.

They stop at Dustin’s first, both he and Robin getting out to get Claudia Hugs (I just know she gives INCREDIBLE hugs). He drops Robin off at home with her promising to keep her walkie on their frequency. And then he goes home alone.

He tries to shower, it hurts his feet and back too much. He tries to change the “bandage” but just gently tugging almost makes him black out from pain. So he collapses on his bed and passes out.

Days go by, he’s trying to act normal, like he isn’t always running a fever and his sides are itching and starting to smell under the cologne he practically bathes in. It works for a few days at least, but Claudia gets suspicious by day 3 post earthquake when Steve shows up for lunch with flushed cheeks. 2 days later he doesn’t show up.

She drives over alone, Dustin is at the Wheeler’s, and she lets herself in with the key Steve gave her and Dustin after last summer. She calls his name, doesn’t get an answer but something smells off. She’s a nurse, she recognizes the scent of disease.

She hurries upstairs and finds Steve in bed, only wearing boxers and the filthy scrap of cloth wrapped around his stomach. He’s sweating and has vomited on himself at least twice, recently too. She immediately knows that he is what smells, she can see the pus and blood on his abdomen. He’s delirious, mumbling to himself and part of her wants to shut down and cry, to go cradle this boy, her son in all ways but blood, but she can’t. She steels herself and walks to his bedside to feel his forehead, almost recoiling from how hot his skin is.

As she keeps checking him over, she grabs the phone on his bedside table and calls 911, cradling the phone between her ear and shoulder to keep working. When the operator answers she explains who she is, where she is and what’s happening.

It’s a blur after that until she’s sitting in the hospital waiting room and she realizes that 1. her shirt and her hands reek of Steve’s blood, and 2. she’s completely alone in the waiting room. Swallowing her tears, Claudia goes over to the payphone and fishes out some coins to call the Buckely’s. Robin’s father picks up but quickly hands it over when Claudia mentions Steve.

She will never forget the choked off sound of pure distress Robin makes when she hears what’s happening.

Hours pass, Robin had arrived shortly after the call and her and Claudia have been curled up together in the waiting room every since. They haven’t called anyone else, haven’t even thought about it, too worried about Steve. Later, Claudia will remember the other kids who adore Steve, Hopper who treats Steve like a son. But in that moment, still not knowing if her boy is okay, she can’t.

Finally, a doctor steps out, clearly fresh from surgery, to speak with them. She explains that Steve had a very severe infection in multiple wounds, especially the ones on his side. They had to debride the wounds, which is what took so long. He was lucky that she found him when he did and that he hadn’t picked up any truly terrible bacteria. He hadn’t gone septic, thankfully, but he was going to be on seriously strong antibiotics for a while. She explained that he was in the ICU and they aren’t supposed to let anyone but family see him.

Claudia wanted to scream and sob and go find the Harringtons and get them to come see their son, but before she even says anything Robin explains that Steve’s parents had all but disowned him and her and Claudia were both in his emergency contacts, not his parents.

The doctor lets them see him. They have to wear face masks and gloves, but they can see him. Claudia had never seen him look so small. And there, in that ICU room, her and Robin both broke and started crying. That was how Jim Hopper found them when he arrived shortly after, the nurses having called him. He’s wearing a mask and gloves but his eyes are wild and scared. He nearly falls over when he sees Steve.

Steve is unconscious for almost two weeks, though the first four or five days or so were due to sedatives - the doctor wanted him to rest and let the antibiotics work. After he was taken off the sedatives he was moved out of the ICU, to a regular room where other people could visit. The kids came and decorated his room, even brought something Eddie had “commissioned” from Will (it looked like Steve ripping one of those creepy things from that alien movie apart, which she really didn’t get). Joyce brought him the quilt from her couch that he always enjoyed at movie nights and Robin came in every other day with his shampoo and conditioner to wash his hair for him (on days she didn’t come to wash his hair, she would come do something else with him. One day Claudia walked in on her painting his nails and her heart felt like it was melting).

The day he finally woke up was the first day Robin hadn’t been able to come. Her parents had forced her to take a break and get some sleep, so Claudia was there on her own just reading a book. She was so engrossed in it that she dropped it in shock when she heard the person on the bed in front of her make noise. Her eyes instantly went to Steve and she could see him scrunching up his face and groaning.

Claudia was by his side in a heartbeat, gently grabbing his hand and brushing a hand over his cheek, speaking softly to let him know she was there. His eyes slowly squinted open, clearly struggling to get the energy to move at all. Their eyes locked and his mouth twitched, like he wanted to smile at her. Then, as she was watching him with tears in her eyes, he opened his mouth and spoke for the first time in weeks.

“Mom….”

[seospicybin]

TEST DRIVE.

#1

Changbin x reader. (s)

Chapters: #2 / #3

Synopsis: Meeting a cute biker at a traffic light, you shoot your shot and go on a date with him to discover whether he meets all of your ideal types. (7,3k words)

Author's note: Hope you like this one too and let me know what you think about it :)

It all happens on a random day and at a random place.

You're waiting for the lights to turn green and a motorcycle stops next to your car. You don't even mean to ogle but his arms, they're so big that they catch your attention right away and the muscles contract as he grips the handlebar.

Something about his stance gives the impression that he's bigger than the motorcycle he's riding which makes you can't stop staring.

The biker turns his head at you, probably noticing that you've been staring at him. You can't see his face with the full helmet he's wearing, but you know you should have said something to make you less of a creep to him.

You roll down your window and decide to greet him, "Hi!"

He pulls the visor of his helmet, exposing his round, brown eyes, "Hi," he says back with his voice muffled by the helmet.

Keeping one hand on the steering wheel, you turn your head at him and teasingly say, "You're cute."

He taps at the side of his helmet, gesturing that he can't hear you the first time, "What?"

You lean out of the window of your car and talk louder, "I think you're cute."

He looks away and glances up at the traffic lights, checking if it will turn green soon. He then pulls something out of his jacket, a phone.

The lights are about to turn green soon and you have no idea what he's going to do with it. Without warning, he throws his phone through your window and it lands on your lap.

You look at him with eyes widening, "Wh-what?"

"Put your numbers in," he says, gripping the handlebar with both hands now and revving the engine.

"What?" You cluelessly ask while holding his phone in your hand.

"I'll get my phone on the next light," he says, not saying anything else but launching his bike forward.

Before the cars behind you honk in complaint, you drop the guy's phone back into your lap and hurriedly drive your car through the intersection.

The motorcycle is nowhere in sight but you assure yourself that he'll be there at the next red lights as he promised. However, he's not there when you get there.

You keep your faith and immediately put your numbers into his phone, not forgetting to add a contact name.

Red Lights Hottie, you type and add a fiery heart emoji. You're giggling as you save the contact.

The sound of the roaring engine gets you smiling, you look to the side and find him there, you hold your hand out of the window to return his phone.

He put one foot down and outstretches his hand toward you, to get his phone back. He holds your hand for a moment but all you feel is the rough exterior of his leather gloves.

He checks his phone right away and it's a shame that you can't see his reaction to the contact name you use.

"I'll call you," he says as he slides his phone back into his jacket pocket and zips it.

"You'd better," you tell him, flashing him a seductive smile as you roll your window up.

Notice that the lights are about to turn green, you wave your hand at him along with another seductive smile and drive away first.

If we're being honest, yes, you want him to call but you choose not to fuss about it much. If he calls, then great. If not, well, that's his loss.

Two days later, still no call but you received a text.

Hey. This is Changbin. The bike guy.

The text is so short and simple, that you decide to make it playful.

Which bike guy? Can you make it more specific?

You jokingly type and hit send. A reply comes a minute later.

The guy who threw his phone at you at the traffic lights.

Goodness, he's so forthright, and somehow, you find it cute.

Oh, you mean, the big, sexy, muscular biker whom I found cute?

The reply comes a little later than the previous one, you guess he's taking his time to write back to you.

Yes. That's the one.

Ooh, sexy and confident, what a lethal combination! The thought reminds you of his biceps and bulky figure, he's so big and you're a girl with a big appetite. Just know that you'll enjoy every bite of it.

As if it tries to stop your mind drifts farther, and your phone dings with a new text.

You're up for a ride this Saturday?

Wow, okay, nothing is hotter than a guy who knows what he wants and goes for it. This Changbin guy is already halfway to winning your heart.

Ride the bike? Or...?

You're biting your lips as you're typing, giggling as you hit send.

We'll figure... he cryptically wrote in his reply.

And he knows to keep it exciting, oh, he's getting there as you feel a tingle down your spine.

Pick you up at 5?

I'm already waiting, you write back.

-

The time is here and the second the roaring sound of his motorcycle engine vibrating through your eardrums, your heart leaps and you get hit by a sudden wave of excitement.

This will be your first experience being on a date with a biker and that adds to the excitement.

Changbin stops his bike on the side of the road, turns off the engine, and parks the bike. You haven't truly seen his face and that explains why you get a little nervous when he's about to take his helmet off.

He shakes his head once the helmet is off, revealing his dark and curly hair. He turns away to put it on top of the bike and then walks up to you.

This is the first time you see him up close and you like what you're seeing. Sharp eyes, and a sharp chin but when he smiles, those features soften and show the dimple on his right cheek. His eyes are as welcoming as the last time he looked at you.

"Hi," he says, his smile grows wider as he looks right into your eyes.

"Hi," you say back, feeling so small against him even though you only have a few inches of difference in height.

"Are you ready to go?" He asks, brushing away the curls that fall to his eyes.

"Yes," you say while daringly looking back into his eyes.

"Are you going to wear that?" He softly asks.

You suddenly check your appearance, you're wearing a long-sleeved white top and blue jeans because this is what you deem appropriate enough for a bike ride.

"Why? Do I– is it not...?" You ask in confusion while hugging yourself, feeling insecure thinking that he doesn't like what he's seeing.

He doesn't say anything but takes his jacket off, then hands it to you, "You can wear mine," he says.

"Oh?" You lowly gasp, not only that he's being chivalrous side but he's also showing more of his body.

Changbin only wears a plain black t-shirt underneath and his muscles fit the space perfectly, you can almost make out the shapes of his body through the fabric.

It's a good thing that you forgot to put on a jacket or else, you'd miss this lascivious view. He watches as you put the jacket on and it hangs loosely on you, especially around the shoulders.

"Ready to go now?" He asks again.

"Yes."

He has an extra helmet with him, he helps you with the strap and offers his hand as a support to help you get onto the back of the bike.

Despite feeling so exposed to the danger, it's such a thrill to feel the engine vibrate under and between your legs. Your heart beats faster and faster as Changbin revs the engine.

He then looks over his shoulder to say, "Hold on tight."

You place your hands on each side of his waist and grip it tighter the moment Changbin sends the bike launching forward and gliding through the streets.

Once you get the hang of riding on the back of the bike, you can relax and you guess that also comes from trusting Changbin and that he'll keep you safe. You begin to enjoy the ride and the wind that blows past you as the bike glides through the streets.

Getting comfortable, you put your arms around his waist and rest your hands on his chest. You indulge yourself with some touching, caressing his stomach and feeling his majestic abs through the fabric of his black t-shirt.

Changbin doesn't stop you so you reckon he doesn't mind with it and that encourages you to get bolder. When the bike stops at the traffic lights, you draw your hands from around his waist and place them on his arms, gliding them up and then squeezing on his glorious biceps. They're so big and firm, that you can't help but squeeze them again.

That seems to get his attention as he turns his head and places his hand on the side of your thighs, tapping at it as he asks, "Okay?"

"More than okay," you say as you glide your hand down to his forearm and feel the veins coiling down his arm.

Surprisingly, he catches your hand and puts it around his waist again as the lights turn green. He picks up the speed and goes faster than before, making you wrap your arms around him tightly. He makes a turn at the intersection and you reckon he's taking you to the pier.

Arrive there, he helps you take your helmet off and you quickly fix your hair but it's useless with the wind that blows from the sea.

He takes you for an early dinner at a Mexican restaurant and getting to know each other in between bites of chicken fajitas.

It's fascinating that you learn a lot about him that ticks a lot of boxes on your ideal type. Honestly, you don't really care whether he fits your ideal type or not, Changbin struck your fancy as soon as your eyes landed on him.

The sun is halfway sinking into the horizon when both of you come out of the restaurant and decide to take a stroll down the pier.

You stop at the end of the pier and look out at the sea that goes as far as you can see with the sun that tirelessly shines before it gets replaced by the moon.

Sensing that he hesitates to make physical contact with you, you take the initiative and make the first move. You stand leaning against the railing and let him cage you between his arms.

In this proximity, you can take a closer look at his face and how his eyes are an intense dark brown, which adds depth to his gaze. The kind that makes you flustered when he stares at you for too long.

You drop your hands around his shoulders and tangle your fingers in his soft curls, "Is this your natural hair?"

"Yes," he answers with that smile that makes his right dimple appear.

"That's cute," you compliment, scratching the tendrils on the nape of his neck.

He shyly smiles and you like how he looks tough but actually sweet and easily get flustered.

"You think so?" He asks.

"I told you you're cute the first time we met," you remind him, sliding your hands down his arms and making him put them around you.

"And what do you think about me?" You ask back.

Changbin gets flustered again and lets out a shy chuckle, you feel the need to encourage him to answer.

"Do you think I'm cute or sexy or...?" You're tilting your head to the side and seductively smiling at him.

He looks away then brings his mouth close to your ear, "No, I don't think so."

"Oh...?" You frown and glare at him.

He then leans in and whispers, "I think you're extremely attractive."

Your frown turns into a big grin and pulls him close, not letting him get away from you, "You think so, mmh?"

"I'm struggling not to kiss you right now," he admits, his hands resting on the arch of your back and you can feel each of his fingers pressing on your skin.

"Why choose to struggle when you can just do it," you murmur, looking up at him and putting your hands on his neck.

"Can I kiss you?" He asks, his voice turns lower than before.

You grab his chin and slightly tilt it down, "Do you really have to ask?"

Your eyes meet in a gaze and burst into laughter at the same time, you both know that the tension is soaring high, and laughing it out is the only way to slow down.

However, when your eyes eventually lock in a gaze again, the urge to kiss him grows stronger and you don't want to wait anymore.

"Come here," you say, putting your hand on his jaw and angling his head your way so you can kiss him.

The kiss is everything you imagined it would be but his lips, oh, they're much softer than you expected and he's brushing them over your lips, then kisses you rather passionately.

Good kisser? Changbin also checked that box!

You slowly pull away but he hasn't had enough of it yet and immediately pulls you into another kiss, making you smile against his lips.

"Your lips are so soft," he compliments with a soft smile.

"And you're a good kisser," you compliment back.

Changbin tenderly swipes his thumb across your lips and gives you a quick peck after. He then places his hands on each side of your waist and draws you closer against him.

"Can you swim?" He asks out of the blue.

"Why?"

Without warning, he hoists you up and teasingly pushes you into the sea, but with his strong grip, you know he's holding you back from falling into the water. You're squealing as you struggle to stand upright and cling to his shoulders.

He has good a laugh after putting you down and holds you close, "You can swim, right?"

You slap his chest but you know it's not hard enough to hurt him, "Yes, I can swim but I don't want to get wet," you answer.

"Not yet," you quickly add with an eyebrow raised.

After sundown, Changbin decides that it's time to get on another ride, noticing that you let the front of your jacket open, he turns you around and makes you face him.

"I don't want you to get cold," he says.

You get that fluttering feeling as he's slowly zipping up the jacket and then helps you fix your hair. An idea comes to mind as he takes his keys out of his jeans pocket.

"Can I start the bike?"

"You want to start the bike?" He asks to confirm.

"Yes, please?"

It's the only way you know for a man to not be able to resist you, the magic word 'please' and puppy eyes, you do exactly in that order along with an innocent smile.

"Sure," he finally answers.

You hop on the bike and watch as he inserts the key into the ignition, he then takes your hand to place it on the right handle.

"You push this button," he instructs, pointing at the red ignition button with his thumb and pressing it together with you.

You get started as the bike turns on and he makes you wrap your hand around the handle.

"Turn it to rev the engine," he says, talking louder against the sound of the motorcycle engine.

You twist the handle and the engine roars according to how hard you rev it, you feel a rush of adrenaline surging through you. You hold the other handle and act like you're riding it.

"Do I look cool?" You playfully ask him.

He softly chuckles and puts his hand on your thigh, "You look cool," he says.

"Just cool?"

"No," He leans into your ear to whisper, "I think you look incredibly sexy."

You get flustered but your hand somehow pulls him close by the front of his t-shirt and gives him that look, a look that asks for his tongue down your throat.

Changbin seems to get the signal as he cups your jaw and presses a kiss on your lips. He's getting more comfortable making physical contact with you and that's relieving because deep down, you've been feeling a little insecure.

Sadly, he pulls away a little too soon and you reflexively whine in response.

"At least, give me a little tongue," you jokingly say.

He takes a step back and shyly smiles, and you think he doesn't take it seriously until he leans in to give you exactly that, a kiss with a little more tongue.

To be honest, he's doing it so well that you gasp for air the second he breaks the kiss.

"Ready to go now?"

"Yes."

Changbin takes you on another ride to enjoy the sunset as the bike goes through the scenic route until the last slivers of sun disappear and the day officially turns to night.

Whenever the bike stops at a traffic light, you use it as an opportunity to touch him, feeling his body through his clothes and at the muscles that lie under the fabric. Feeling mischievous, you trace down his sides and then rest your hands on his inner thighs.

Noticing what you're doing, he rests his back against you and puts your arms around his neck instead. He turns his head to the side, bumping his helmet with yours as he does it.

"You're ready to go home, mmh?" He asks, his hand rubbing on your knee.

"I'll go anywhere you take me," you teasingly say as you caress his chest.

In all honesty, you don't want it to end yet, you just want to be on this endless joyride with him. But the night is still young and you know a way or two on how to spend it with Changbin.

Stopping right in the parking lot of your apartment building, you get off first and untie the helmet straps under your chin, then take it off and quickly fix your hair afterward. You wait until he takes his helmet off to ask something.

"Want to come to my place?"

He seems to not expect that question due to the fact that this is a first date and a girl rarely asks that on the first date.

Changbin roughly brushes his hair to the back and places his helmet on the handlebar of the motorcycle, "Your place?"

"Uh-huh," you nod.

This is your turn to cage him between your arms as he leans against the bike, "I might be able to teach you a few riding techniques at my place," you say with a seductive smile.

He uses both hands to brush your hair to the side and keeps them there, "Does your place have two wheels?"

"No, but they have two legs," you cheekily answer.

Changbin continues brushing your hair to your back and then holds you close, he's slyly smiling as he stares into your eyes, making your inside melt. You don't even know why you're not turning into jelly already.

"And it can go in reverse really well," you whisper into his ear then plant a kiss on his neck.

He shyly chuckles at that and now laying his hand flat on your abdomen. His body heat seeps through his leather gloves and you can feel the warmth of his hand through your clothes.

"That's actually a good feature because most bikes can't go in reverse," he says with a smirk.

Your hands hike up his arms again and stop at his shoulders, one hand continues its way to the nape of his neck so you can angle his head as you place.

You tilt his head slightly downward and playfully bite at his lower lip before taking both lips in your mouth. You kiss him hard and he returns the kiss with the same eagerness, teeth, and tongues clashing in your mouth.

Time works strangely when you kiss, it feels so slow when your lips touch, and when you pull away, time has flown so fast.

"So..." you continue talking while rubbing your hands up and down his arms, "how about we go to my place and I can show you how well it rides in reverse?"

He places a sweet kiss on your cheek and then rests his forehead against yours, "Oh, so I get to test drive?"

"Yes," you confidently answer.

"Oh, most dealerships don't do test drives for bikes," he says, playing with the end of your hair on your back.

"Well, it's your lucky day," you say, slowly leaning in to give him a long peck on the lips.

The second the door swings open, both of you rush to get into the privacy of your apartment, and your lips are instantly locked in a passionate kiss.

Changbin pushes you against the wall and takes both of your hands, pinning them above your head as he buries his head in the crook of your neck.

"Oh..." you moan as he sucks on the sensitive skin.

He was shy and easily flustered earlier but once the two of you are alone, he's becoming one sexy beast. Your lips constantly latched with his and he kisses you deep and hard until you run out of breath.

Still holding your wrists with one hand, he turns you around and has your back against him, he immediately plants his mouth on your shoulder while his free hand goes south.

Impatient, Changbin yanks your jeans open until they give away and wastes no time to slip his hand inside, cupping your clothed sex in his hand. At the same time, he's humping you from the back as his fingers trace your folds through the flimsy fabric of your underwear.

No one says anything as the two of you get controlled by desires and both of your bodies are answering each other's wants and needs.

The room is filled with nothing but the smooching sounds of your kisses, the breathless gasps in between, and the rustles of your clothes rubbing together.

After a while, you break the kiss and say, "Let's take it to the bedroom, yeah?"

He takes a step back and turns you around, not letting you go without a long kiss on your lips.

"Lead the way," he says to you.

You take his hand and pull him along with you to your bedroom, you let go so you can take your jeans off and then climb onto the bed.

"Come here, you big boy," you seductively call him, flicking your finger to gesture him to come closer.

Changbin stands at the end of the bed while you're kneeling on the bed, making you both almost at the same eye level. You tug at the hem of his t-shirt and he lifts his arms so you can take it off of him.

"Mmh, yeah..." you hum in astonishment at the sight of his big, muscular body right in front of you and waste no time putting your hands all over, feeling the outline of his abs.

"You're so hot," you say, planting kisses across his chest.

You continue the trail of kisses to his neck and playfully nibble at his ear, "Why are you so hot, mmh?"

Changbin gently tugs at your hair and brings your head close to him, then he holds your head in both hands like you're a fragile object. As he looks into your eyes, he softly kisses your lips, softer and gentler than the previous one.

"Let's make it fair," he says, taking his turn to take your top off.

He sighs as he takes a look at you half-naked with only your undergarments on. He cups your jaw and kisses you, one hand secretly makes its way to the back to unclasp your bra.

"Oh!" You gasp as he successfully takes your bra off and you help by tossing it aside.

You take his hands and put them on your breasts, making him hold them in his hands, "Do you like them?" You lowly ask.

He lightly rubs your nipple with his thumb but his eyes do not stray away from yours "They're perfect."

He cups your breasts in both hands and gently squeezes at them, "So perfect in my hands," he hums.

As he crashes his lips on yours again, you reach down for his jeans and work them open without looking, you stroke his bulge after you manage to unzip his fly. You can tell how big he is just from feeling it through his dark briefs.

"Feel how hard I am for you?" He speaks against your lips.

"Uh-huh," you answer.

He detaches his lips from yours and backs away, taking a moment to take his jeans off along with his dark briefs while you sit on the bed, waiting for him.

The moment he turns around to reveal his glorious body to you, you let out a sigh of wonder and you just can't look away, it's even a miracle that you're not blind after seeing it.

"How are you so fucking hot?" You ask in disbelief.

The shy Changbin makes a return, he charges toward you until both of you stumble onto the bed. He then hovers above you, planting his lips on yours again.

"How come you're so fucking hot, mmh?" You ask again as he kisses the column of your throat.

Your hand flies to his head as he bites at your ear but he's quick to catch it, he then pins both of your hands against the bed.

All you can do is helplessly lie under him as he glides his mouth down to your breasts, he starts licking your nipple in circular motions before taking it into his greedy mouth.

"Ouw, baby!" You yelp in pain as he sucks on your breast so hard you believe it'll leave a mark.

Yet Changbin only laughs in response with his mouth full of your ample flesh. He then does the same thing to the other breast, tugging your nipple in between his teeth and playfully pulling at it.

"You're enjoying it way too much," you say.

After a while, he lets go of your hands and puts them around his neck. He carefully lowers his body and props his elbows against the bed to not put his whole weight on you.

The temperature keeps on rising as your skin rubs against his skin and there's no gap left between your bodies. Your breath hitches as his hand discovers the wetness between your legs and he's using his fingers to trace your folds, and ultimately your bundle of nerves to circle on it.

"So wet for me," he murmurs.

"So wet, yeah," you innocently repeat the words back to him.

Changbin intently watches your face as his fingers tease on your clit, applying gentle pressure on it and making your underwear drenched in your essence. The underwear starts to get in the way so he puts it to the side and then runs his fingers down your slit repeatedly, making you moan.

"You're so sensitive," he murmurs at you with eyes wide and dark with lust.

As if that isn't enough, he pushes his finger into you and you can feel it stretching you out. He intensely gazes into your eyes as he moves his finger inside.

"Ooh..." you moan, fingers clawing at his shoulder.

Changbin deems you can take another one so he adds one more finger and now two fingers are inside, stretching you out more than before.

"Oh, the way you suck my fingers in," he sighs, then hastily kisses your open mouth.

Your body seeks more of him, you're arching your back and start riding on his fingers as moans spilling out of your mouth all the while Changbin is calmly watching you.

"Let me find—" he doesn't get to finish his sentence as he finds that spot that makes you sharply gasp.

"This is it, mmh?" He asks, nuzzling his nose to your neck and kissing you there.

A moment later, he slowly pulls his fingers out of you and shows you his fingers coated with your essence. He doesn't hesitate to shove them into his mouth and licks them clean.

The scene is highly erotic and you want to taste yourself on him too, you pull him in and kiss him deeply, wanting to get a taste of you on his tongue.

"Can you please take my underwear off for me?" You sweetly ask.

"With pleasure," he says, getting off to stand at the end of the bed again. He tugs his fingers on the elastic band on your underwear and slowly, pulls it down until it's off your legs.

Changbin draws a long breath when he looks at your naked body against the white sheet for his eyes only. You can see his eyes grow wider and darker the longer he stares at your body while you get flustered under his lustful gaze.

"Are you going to keep staring at me or..." You take his hand and intertwine your fingers with his, "Do something about it?"

One corner of his mouth raises higher than the other, forming a devilish smirk on his face that takes his attractiveness to a whole new level.

He glides his hand down your leg and grips your waist, "I want to ruin you."

The thrill you feel the moment you hear that, oh, that's the best way to go, isn't it? Getting ruined by him and his huge cock.

Using his hand, he parts your legs open, exposing your gushing hole to him, and can't take his eyes off of it even for a second. He licks his lips repeatedly as if he's been craving it his whole life.

Changbin positions himself between your legs and puts his cock between your legs, slowly rubbing it between your folds and at the same, gives you an idea of how deep he's going to be inside you.

"You think you can take me?" He asks you.

"Uhm..." you pretend to consider it for a moment, "I think so, yeah."

He's smirking as he uses the tip of his cock to rub your clit, "You think so?"

You nod even though you're doubting yourself for that as his cock grows bigger the more he rubs it between your folds.

"Do you want it in?" He softly asks with a caress on your cheek.

You nod and an idea comes to mind, "Can I put it in myself?"

He flashes you a smile, "Be my guest."

You slightly raise your body and then prop your elbow against the bed, using your free hand, you hold his cock and feel how hot it is in the palm of your hand. The more you stroke it, the more impatient you get to have him inside you.

"I'm putting it in," you inform him.

Changbin puts both hands against the mattress, allowing him to slightly bend down and giving him just the right position to penetrate you.

You concentrate hard on aligning his cock to your entrance and push it in, but you're so wet that it glides upward. You hurriedly try again, aiming his tip into your entrance once more, and push yourself forward to take him in and still fail. Then you realize it's not you or how wet you are for him, it's him, he's too big for you.

"Why your cock is so fucking big?" You half-jokingly say to him.

Changbin smirks again and takes control of it, "Let me help," he says.

He lets you hold it and once you manage to put his tip into you, he pushes it in until a part of his length disappears into you.

"Ah..." you whine, feeling full already and he's only halfway there.

"It's just the tip and it already feels so good," he murmurs, rubbing the side of your thigh.

"More," you daringly say after preparing yourself to take more of him.

He doesn't say anything but draws his cock out to the tip and pushes it back in, not stopping until his length is fully buried deep inside you.

"Oh..." he hisses through his parted mouth and keeps his cock deep inside you to let you adjust yourself to his size.

"Oh, baby!" You whine, your eyes rolling to the back at how overwhelming it is to have his full length inside you. This is it, you think, this is how you're going to die.

Somehow, you want to keep looking down and deeply aroused at the sight of his cock disappearing into you, and ultimately, feeling surprised that you can take him well.

"Look at that! You take me so well," he says along with kisses down your jaw.

You look at him with innocent eyes and ask, "Do I feel good?"

He kisses you so hard on the lips and then holds the side of your face, "You feel so good that I don't want to pull out."

With a hand on your chest, he slowly pushes you down until you lay on your back again. He puts his hands against the mattress for support and it gives him the leverage to move, thrusting into you at a steady pace.

Maybe it's his size or maybe he just knows how to fuck, you can feel every drag of his cock against your wall and it feels so good that all you can do is lay back and take every thrust like a good girl.

Your hands are gripping the sheets underneath you, your breasts are jiggling along to every thrust and moans are constantly falling out of your mouth.

"Turn over for me, baby," he says.

You're too fucked out to process his words and he ends up doing it for you, turning you over without pulling out. He then grips each side of your waist and continues thrusting into you.

"Harder, yeah?" He asks, deciding it on his own but you don't mind any of it.

He takes your arms by the elbows, forcing you to kneel on the bed, and then folds them behind your hands, strongly gripping at them as he thrusts harder into you.

"Oh, my– Oh!" You're a moaning mess against him, feeling the intensity in each of his thrusts and nudging you right on the spot.

It's embarrassing that you're already close to your climax but you know he can sense it, and instead of stopping, he goes harder. He puts his arm across your chest to keep you upright with his hand squeezing on your breast.

"Oh, God, I'm close, close," you manage to form coherent words despite your brain being clouded in adulterated pleasure.

"Cum for me," he says right into your ear, hand wrapping around your neck and angling it toward him, "Cum around me."

With that being said, you allow yourself to let go and let the pleasure take over you. You let out a high-pitched moan as he thrusts right at your spot and takes you to your release. You're lowly whimpering as you're flailing against him but fortunately, he holds you close to keep you steady.

"You okay?" He asks in slight concern.

"Mmh-hmm," you nod, turning your head to the side to kiss him.

It's very gentlemanly of Changbin to let you cum first, he manages to make you cum and puts his need aside. It's rare to find that quality in a man and you feel lucky to find it in him.

"Congratulations!" You say to him while lying on top of him.

He stops brushing your hair and looks at you in confusion, "For what?"

You land a long peck on his lips before answering, "For officially become my ideal type."

A smile rises on his fluffy cheeks and he kisses you back, his hands moving down your back and only stopping when his hands meet the ample flesh of your asscheeks, then kneading on them.

"Now I'm going to show you how well I ride in reverse," you whisper into his ear.

He lets out a chuckle and playfully slaps at your asscheeks, "is it finally the time."

You nod, "Are you ready?"

He kisses you hard and lets go with a gasp, "Fuck yeah, I'm ready."

The fact that Changbin's cock remains hard and swollen only proves that he's not like any other man which also makes you want to please him more. He gave you one of the best orgasms you ever had in your life and it's only fair if you return the favor to him.

"How are you still hard?" You curiously ask and he only answers with a cocky shrug.

You're straddling him with your back facing him, you lubricate his cock with your juice and smear it all over with your hand, then continue pumping it with both hands.

Changbin holds you by the waist as you position his cock into your entrance, he holds you steady and watches from the back as you slowly lower yourself in him.

"Oh, my, it doesn't get any better on the second time," you jokingly remark.

He may take it as a joke but not on your part, he feels much bigger than before and you start to doubt yourself again whether you can take him or not.

"Take it slow," he instructs from behind you while guiding your movement.

You follow his instructions, taking him little by little, and not forget to take breaths in between. You close your eyes and relax yourself so you can take him all in.

"Just like that, baby," he murmurs but his fingers are digging into the flesh on your waist.

By the time you take all of him, you let out a sigh of relief and look over your shoulder at him, "Like that?"

"Exactly like that," he sighs, lowering his hand to the curve of your ass and then landing a slap on it, "Now, move!"

With a yelp of pain, you start moving, bouncing on his cock with your hands propped on his chest. When you get tired, you switch by leaning forward and holding on to his thighs.

Being on top allows you to take control, you know it should be about you pleasing him but you can't stop yourself from enjoying it.

Changbin's hand snaking to the front to play with your clit, syncing his hand movements to yours to give you the utmost pleasure.

"Oh, no, I'm close already," you breathlessly admit with your head tilted up.

"Keep going, baby," he encourages you when you know you should have slowed down.

Yet your body moves on its own, chasing after another release like the first isn't enough. You plant your feet against the bed to provide you more depth and automatically, more pleasure for both of you.

"Oh, baby!" You cry with your eyes screwed shut, getting tired from tirelessly pulsating your hips against him.

Noticing that, Changbin decides to take control, he pulls you until your back lying against his chest and holds you close. He then holds your legs by the back of your knee, lifts them, and keeps them open as he starts bucking his hips from under you.

His strong arms and his strong legs are working hard tonight and you feel bad for making him do most of the work, but you find yourself not more than a rag doll on top of him.

"You're so deep inside me," you whimper, turning his head to the side to capture his lips in a slobbering kiss.

He starts to pick up the pace and you can hear the skin slapping sounds grow louder, endlessly echoing in the room.

"Gosh, I can feel you all over me," you whine against his lips.

Changbin uses all of his strength to keep thrusting into you and keep going even after sensing that you just cum around him the second time.

"Oh, God, oh..." you cry as you nestle your head into his neck while he rides through your orgasm, stimulating your already sensitive spot.

"Just a bit more," he says through his gritted teeth and bucks his hips so hard that you feel faint.

Your eyes see nothing but white and it feels like your soul has left your body, you never passed out before but it feels like it.

"Changbin, oh..." you cry, clawing at his forearm and feeling a tear rolling down the side of your cheek.

The growl he lets out is raw and animalistic, and that's when you know he has reached his high. He plants his cock deep inside you and you can feel something hot filling you along with his cock pulsating against your walls. There's nothing like it, oh, it's just you and him, completely fucked out.

"I don't think I have energy left to move," you say, not even able to lift your eyes open.

He manages to find your lips and presses a sloppy kiss, "Then let's not move."

You both stay like that, sharing his pillow and you're using his body as your bed, his skin feels warm and moist against you but you're not any better. Your skin is coated with a sheen of sweat and your hair is stuck to your forehead.

After a moment, you gathered enough to turn your head and look at him, you caressed his jaw to get his attention.

"Are you okay, my perfect guy?"

He inhales air and turns his head at you, "I'm okay. Just tired," he shortly answers.

You suddenly feel affectionate toward him and decide to place kisses on his face and neck while he's gathering his senses.

As you look at him, lying next to you with eyes closed, you feel affectionate towards him and that's new because you've only known him today yet he feels like someone you can trust your life to.

"Can I tell you something?" you ask while gently rubbing his chin with your knuckle.

He takes your hand and brings it to his mouth to kiss it, "What?"

You bring your head close to his side and stare into his eyes, "I don't want this to be a one-time thing."

He looks back into your eyes and clasps your hand with his, resting it close to his heart.

"I like you too much for that," you confess, saying that makes you feel more naked than you already are and the ball is in his court now.

"What do you think?"

Changbin takes a deep breath and lets it out as he stares at the ceiling. You give him time to think and you don't want to pressure him.

"Well, one test drive is all it takes," he answers with a smirk.

You chuckle at that but your question remains, you want to know whether he agrees that this should continue or not, and Gosh, you hope it's the former.

He looks at you with a soft smile on his face, "I'm interested in the ride and want to keep it."

Your heart flutters but a part of you is still in disbelief, "Really?

"Yes," he eagerly answers.

You immediately kiss him out of happiness, long and lingering until your lungs burn from running out of oxygen.

"Since you've shown tremendous enthusiasm towards the ride," you say as you keep his head turned to you.

"Yeah?"

"I offer you a second test drive," you say with a wink and seductive smile.

"Oh?" His eyes suddenly turn wide and bright, "when?"

"Right now."

"Now?" He asks with a mix of enthusiasm and concern.

You softly laugh and nod, "Yes."

Changbin props a hand under his head and looks at you with a rather intrigued mind, "Well, I've been meaning to try some riding techniques anyway."

-

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[withleeknow]

forgetful.

pairing: minho x reader genre/warnings: established relationship, fluff; minho is lowkey the biggest simp wbk, unedited ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ word count: 0.9k note: first fic of 2024! don't look at me tho, at this point i just keep writing the most self-indulgent shit lol

as always, i’d appreciate any thoughts or comments you may have, and please drop a like and/or reblog if you enjoy reading ♡

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minho is the type to - 15 seconds after he meets you for your weekly date night - ask you where your gloves are when he sees your reddened and shivering hands. there was a greeting kiss preceding the question, of course.

"i think we both know what the answer is," you tell him, trying to rub your hands together for warmth until he takes them and presses your cold fingers against his cheeks, before he kisses your palms.

"what’s the point of getting matching gloves if you keep forgetting yours?" he says, a light scolding tone in his voice that matches the slight frown tugging on his brows.

"it's not my fault!" you try to defend yourself. you'd raise your hands for emphasis, but he's still keeping them near his face, alternating between kisses and blowing into them to get you all nice and toasty. "i keep them by the door on purpose so i wouldn't forget to take them with me when i go out. you have to at least give me a little credit for that. i just... never actually remember to bring them."

he rolls his eyes, an act that most would find patronizing especially if minho is the one who's doing it. but when it comes to you, everything minho does is full of affection, even as he pretends to be annoyed.

"what am i going to do with you?" he mutters like a disappointed parent.

"it was your idea to get the gloves. i didn't really need them though. i have you."

"but i'm not with you all the time, baby. you need to keep yourself warm."

"well, you're here with me, aren't you? you can keep me warm now. i'll worry about cold hands later."

squishing his cheeks together, you pull him toward you for a swift peck.

despite his exasperated sigh, minho still presses his lips against each of your palms one last time, even turns them over to kiss your knuckles, before he settles on intertwining his left hand with your right one, stuffing them in his coat pocket as he pulls the both of you toward the direction of your dinner reservation.

"wait!" you exclaim, holding up your neglected hand, "what about this one? it's cold too."

he turns to look at you, his face devoid of all emotions as he assesses your so-called dilemma. then, minho lets go of you, telling you to put both your hands in your own pockets.

"come onnn," you lament, pouting at the man in front of you.

"you come on," he retorts. "just do it."

you huff childishly, watching as the breath comes out in a puff of smoke in the cold air, thinking minho is really letting you fend for warmth by yourself for the remaining 10 minutes that it takes to walk to the restaurant.

it's not like you meant to forget the gloves at home.

before you can resume walking, minho moves to stand behind you, pulling you to him, eliciting a surprised oof! from you. he shoves his hands into your pockets, intertwining your fingers once again within the confines of the fabric as he shuffles you forward, his legs on either side of yours so it's easier for you to walk. the thick coats and wool scarves that you're both wearing already make you look like a pair of clumsy bears roaming the street, but with your back pressed against his front like this, you have no doubt that by-passers must be thinking you're two cotton balls waddling in the middle of the city.

"minho!" you laugh, partially embarrassed that people are side-eyeing this strange public display of affection. "stop!"

"you wanted me to keep you warm, didn't you?"

"people are staring!"

"you said you were cold." he seems unfazed though, continuing to nudge you forward like it's the most normal thing in the world. "make up your mind."

"i take it back!"

you do your best to plant your feet firmly on the ground to keep him from moving. it works though, or at least it staggers him enough for you to wriggle out of his hold. you take a few steps away from minho, and he looks at you with unimpressed eyes.

"i take it back," you repeat. "we're only a couple blocks away. i think i'll manage."

he stares at you for a moment longer, before he reaches into his bag and pulls out a pair of gloves, identical to the matching ones that you two picked out together a few weeks ago.

"how do you have my gloves?"

"these aren't the ones at your place," he clarifies. "this is your backup pair. i went back to the store and got them because i know you never remember to take shit with you."

you don't even try to suppress the grin that tugs on your lips when he walks closer to you, taking your hands and attentively covers your skin with the wool. "so you just... keep them with you at all times now?" you ask.

"pretty much, yeah."

once he's made sure that gloves are hugging your fingers snugly, you pull him down for a kiss, your lips moving together warmly. you feel him smile against you even though he's trying to look stern.

"you love me sooo much," you simper when you break from the kiss.

minho sighs, a long one as if to say yes, unfortunately i do love you very much.

"now come on." this time he does speak aloud. "let's go before they give away our table."

because that's just the kind of person minho is. because no matter how grumpy he may appear from the outside, he's still the type to always think of you and your wellbeing and show up for you even when you don't show up for yourself. no matter how callous his facade is, he is still the type to love you quietly. tenderly. completely.

permanent taglist: @onlyycb97wife @starsandrqindrops @borahae-reads @abbiestearsricochet @cutiespaghetti @anthropologykpopmultistan @moonlinos

all rights reserved © withleeknow. reposting, translating and/or modifying is not permitted by any means. [posted 01.01.2024]

[simplyreveries]

hi sorry for my English, but can I ask the boys to overblot with a s/o who likes to mark their face with lipstick marks please

lipstick marks; overblot boysss

aaaaa i love this idea so much, thank you 😭😭

this is perfect because i have an obsession with lipstick<3

riddle rosehearts

it doesn't matter how long you two have been together he still gets so flushed after any kiss from you. you have such an effect on him, it's crazy. so, he doesn't even notice the lipstick stains left on him- he only learned when he heard ace snickering about something and commenting on his left cheek.

he was so flustered by that and learned to always check his face after you kiss him, he has a status to keep up as dorm leader!! he doesn't want to be improper or anything...or hear all the teasing from the others. but he does secretly enjoy it that you love to give them to him.

whenever you pepper his faces with kisses and he has to use something like a handkerchief to rub it off, he'll be all red in the face and mutter something like "oh dear..." under his breath as he worriedly goes to a mirror. but you've sworn you've caught him smiling a little, on multiple occasions.

leona kingscholar

when you come up to him and press kisses on his face whenever he’s asleep and trying to nap- he’ll groan tiredly and tell you not too because he’s too tired to wipe off all your “damn lipstick” right now. (let’s be REAL leona) you usually see a small smirk on his face with his eyes closed though. leona will seem even irritated if you'd stop.

he’ll roll his eyes when he wipes his lips with the back of his hand and sees it stained with the color of your lips and pull you back in for another. by the end of it his lips are smudged around with the shade of yours. its definitely a sight to see if it's a pinkish color.

leona doesn’t actually really care, I mean a lot like the others he’ll make sure to get it off before going out or something… though there may have been a few times he’s forgotten or missed it because he is usually half-asleep when you’re smooching him.

azul ashengrotto

every time you kiss and smooch him, he's so smitten, his brain cant function and he can't think of really anything or anyone else. in the privacy of his office are his favorite moments when you come to check on him and give him affection. this man is putty in your hands idc!!

so needless to say, the first time this happened to him- he doesn't even notice, like riddle. he'll be in such a dreamy mood and state while he does his paperwork. when jade comes to him about something, he immediately covers his mouth with his gloved hand trying to hide the amusement he clearly is feeling when seeing azul like that. he doesn't even tell him because he thinks its funny, jade only said "ah i didnt notice (name) was here earlier..."

azul was confused but brushed it off because he deemed this behavior normal from the twins. azul only learned the hard way when he heard floyd who couldn't keep it to himself.

every time you kiss him azul tries to remember to, but once again he's stuck on thinking about you. when he looks at himself in the mirror to wipe it off, he's got such a stupid grin on his face. his favorite spot to see where its left is right under his mouth where his beauty mark is.

jamil viper

he feels the lipstick left on his face usually and places his fingers against it and has the smuggest smile... he loves it honestly. within the privacy of him in you, when he feels it smudged and left on his face it makes him weak. he pretty much doesn't forget to rub it off still, but sometimes you may see the reminiscent color left on his face.

he oddly enjoys putting your lipstick on for you, jamil would do it for you if you ask him. he likes choosing his favorite colors that you have to put on you. i mean, there's also the perk of him getting kissed as a thanks so he's not complaining.

if you did it out in public, well he will let out a small huff and discreetly tries to wipe it off hoping no other dormmates or god forbid kalim saw him with it, he'll only tease him with mushy things about how cute him and you are together. he pretends like he doesn't like them, so it is rather funny to see. he just doesn't want to appear like that in front of others.

vil schoenheit

he literally does the same thing to you ALL the time. only he chuckles and coos while rubbing it off of your face gently. whenever you two are done kissing both of your faces are covered in each other's lipstick. he personally really likes the look of you like that.

he usually looks into his compact mirror from his uniform, he laughs saying something like "oh my, look at what you've done, dear." like he just didn't leave the same exact thing on your face as well.

vil 100% buys you more and more lipstick... like literally pick what you want. he'll give you the best and prettiest brands, he loves seeing you in them anyway. he'll be amused and point out its a brand he bought for you as he wipes it off his cheek carefully. he also knows exactly what colors would suit and compliment you the best.

idia shroud

idia was a huge ball of nerves when it came to kissing you at first, he's had zero experience, and he feels insecure about his lips- as they're chapped and scarred a bit from him biting his lips out of anxiety. you got him some vaseline and flavored lip balm for him, but he only likes it when you put it on his lips for him.

the tips of his hair always gets all pink, like his groovy card in the ghost marriage event- when you kiss him, and he sees the lipstick stains imprinted on his skin. he is flustered beyond belief, but he always craves more from you- once you start, he cannot seem to get enough of you. idia gives you this toothy grin and wipes them off with the sleeve of his jacket but whenever you get red lipstick on him, and he does that it just ends up looking like blush on his pale skin.

love love loves any flavored ones like lip gloss you use that taste sweet. definitely use them because it'll always work on idia. you literally make this man dizzy and lightheaded with your lips- he doesn't seem to care about the lipstick getting on him one bit when it's the two of you. he'll only feel embarrassed if you give him a small one if you're out and cover his face nervously.

malleus draconia

malleus kisses you so much that his own lips turn the color of your lipstick. not only does it attack his whole face, but you've got his lips in that shade too, he only notices when you point it out and laugh. he'll smile and hum, only to lean in for more from you.

its funny because if you're trying to give him a kiss- with your height difference you'd end up getting a stain on his neck- at best. he thinks it's amusing as he chuckles. he'll give you a real kiss then. malleus is honestly lowkey proud to have them on him, he sees it as a sign of your affection and love from you so why wouldn't he like it? he has this dumb smirk on his face when you've got the darkest shade and you kiss him, it's the most visible on him of course.

like vil, he'll happily supply you with however many you want. malleus loves seeing you wear lipstick, it's really his favorite thing. but as i've mentioned he prefers dark shades on you the best out of them all, for sure.

[steddiehyperfixation]

don't you forget about me (part two)

(part one)

Steve doesn’t know how long they sit there in silence, waiting. It’s making him insane. The seconds pass too slow; the seconds pass too fast. His mind is a storm; his mind is empty. He’s feeling too much; he’s not feeling at all. He paces the room; he sits catatonically against a wall. He needs to get out of here; he needs to stay. 

He’s been here before, just barely over a week ago, tense and anxious and despairing and waiting for news. But waiting to hear if Eddie will ever remember him again really should not feel this much worse than waiting to hear if Eddie will ever fucking breathe again. Steve thinks there must be something wrong with him. He’s being selfish and stupid. His pathological fucking need to be loved is not what’s important right now. Eddie is alive and awake and okay and that’s the only thing that really matters. That’s the only thing he should really care about.

Steve’s pacing again now, yanking his hands through his hair as he does laps around the room until Eddie finally appears in the doorway. 

Eddie must’ve just cracked a joke or something because the nurse is laughing as she pushes his bed into the room and he’s got this adorable grin on his face. Steve’s heart twists in his chest and he nearly bursts into tears all over again because god does he want nothing more than to press a kiss to those dimpled cheeks. 

“Good news, boys,” Eddie announces. “My brain is fully intact.”

“There’s no physical permanent damage to his brain,” the nurse elaborates. “His amnesia is likely a result of psychological trauma and the temporary disruption of brain function from blood loss and lack of oxygen that occurred at the time of his injury. But there is no obvious reason why he shouldn’t regain his full memory, given time.” 

So there’s hope. Steve breathes a sigh of relief. 

“That is good news,” Wayne agrees. 

Steve asks, “How much time?” 

The nurse gives an unhelpful shrug. “Impossible to say. It could be anywhere from days to months, or even years. I’m sorry, there’s no way for us to know.” 

Years. “Okay.” Steve pinches the bridge of his nose. He can keep it together. He can. “Thanks,” he tells the nurse. “I, uh-” He makes the mistake of looking at Eddie who looks right through him, and Steve can’t keep it together anymore actually. “I gotta update the kids,” he mutters, backing his way towards the door. Wayne nods in acknowledgment; no protests this time at Steve’s excuse to leave.

“See ya, Harrington,” Eddie calls after him, casual, impersonal, like they're nothing more than acquaintances passing by each other in a high school hallway.  

Steve can’t get out of that hospital fast enough. 

He makes it to his car in record time, slamming the door shut and sinking heavily into the driver’s seat. A ragged sob tries to claw its way up his throat now that he’s finally alone, but he forces it back, staving off his breakdown for just a little bit longer. As much as it was an excuse, he really does have to update the kids. 

Steve fishes his walkie out of the glove box. “Code - whatever, I don’t know. Code Eddie,” he says. He doesn’t remember the kids’ system of codes, nor would he be sure which one this news falls under even if he did. 

“Is he okay? Is he awake?” comes an immediate, eager response from Dustin. “Over.” 

“Yeah, he’s awake, and he’s fine, except he’s got pretty bad amnesia. The doctors say it should be temporary, but right now he doesn’t remember anything since May of ‘85,” Steve explains, trying his best to keep his voice even.

“Steve, come pick me up and take me to see him,” Dustin demands, “right now. Over.” 

“Me too. Over,” Mike chimes in before Steve can respond. 

“And us,” Erica adds as well. 

Steve pauses for a second, both to steady his own breath and to make sure no one else wants to jump in on this too, before he reminds them, “He won’t know you, any of you.” 

“I don’t care,” Dustin says, bossy as ever. “Just come get me. Over.” 

“Jesus Christ, kid,” Steve mutters to himself. He sucks in another breath; it wobbles dangerously. He’s just about reached his limit on how long he can keep himself from falling apart. “I- I need a minute, alright?” he manages through the walkie. “Can you just give me, like, an hour? And then I’ll take you guys to visit Eddie.” 

Steve doesn’t wait for a response before he slams the antenna closed, tosses the walkie aside, and finally, finally lets himself shatter. That sob rips free from his throat, followed by another and another and another. Tears flood from his eyes; his nose runs. It’s an ugly, gross, visceral cry that leaves him exhausted and raw and aching to be held by the time the last sob shudders out of him. Drained and hollow, he craves the embrace of someone who knows him, someone who loves him. 

He sweeps up his broken pieces, wipes the mess of tears and snot off his face, and drives to Robin’s house.

“Steve, oh my god.” Robin pulls him into a hug the second she opens the door and sees the look on his face. Steve clings to her. “What happened?” 

“Eddie’s awake,” he mutters dismally. 

“Oh! Not the tone I’d expect you to deliver that news in, but okay.” Robin pulls back, looking at him with narrow-eyed concern and confusion as she analyzes his puffy eyes and red nose and swollen lips. “And you look like you’ve just been crying because…?”

“Because he doesn’t remember me, Rob,” Steve sighs. “He doesn’t remember anything from the past 11 months.” 

Robin’s eyes go wide now. ���Shit,” she says, so plainly it startles a short laugh out of Steve. 

“Yeah,” he agrees. “Shit.” 

She asks him more questions as she walks down the hallway so they can talk in her room. Steve once again reiterates what was said at the hospital. 

“So you didn’t tell him you two were a thing?” Robin asks, closing her door behind them. 

“Of course I didn’t.” Steve flops back onto her bed. “I didn’t want to spook him.” 

She sits beside him. “You didn’t want to spook him,” she repeats, looking down at him with raised eyebrows, “but you told him about Vecna.” 

“Well, yeah. I just-” He lifts his arms to gesture vaguely into the air as he tries to explain himself. “I mean, imagine how you would feel if you woke up in a hospital and some random guy you’ve spoken to maybe twice was by your bedside telling you you’ve been in a relationship with him for the past 9 months.” 

“Uh, I don’t know, dingus, probably about the same as I’d feel if said guy told me I’d nearly died fighting some evil twisted creature from a hell dimension,” Robin retorts.

Steve drops his hands onto his chest with a huff, shaking his head. “No, trust me. He seemed far less surprised by that than he did to hear that we were even just friends,” he says, a bit bitterly. Tears are pricking at his eyes again as he looks up at his best friend. “You didn’t see the way he looked at me, Robin. All he saw was King Steve.”

Robin softens, snark replaced with sympathy. “That sucks, Steve. I’m so sorry.” 

Steve sighs in agreement that yes this really fucking sucks. He sits up and scoots back so that he’s slumped against the wall, hitting the back of his head against it. “I think I’m a horrible person,” he admits, just venting now, “because of course I’m glad Eddie’s alive and all I really want is for him to be okay, and I know the nurse said he should remember eventually, but there’s still some sick part of me that thinks maybe it would’ve hurt less if he had just died.”

“I don’t think that makes you a horrible person,” Robin assures him as she settles next to him, shoulder to shoulder. “I think you’re just grieving, and grief is weird sometimes.”

“It was one of the worst things I’ve ever felt,” he mutters, “when he looked at me without recognition. To see it on his face, just the- the absence of everything that we’d built. I’ve never felt so- so- I don’t know, it was like I couldn’t breathe. He just- he doesn’t know that I love him. He…he doesn’t know that he loved me...” 

Because that’s what it is, isn’t it? It’s not that he’s lost someone that he loves, it’s that he’s lost someone who loves him. Because Eddie’s not gone, just his love for Steve is, and that’s what’s tearing him apart. It’s the fact that there’s one less person in the world who loves him. It’s the fact that Steve’s got this big gaping hole inside of him that’s always made him so desperate to be loved, liked, wanted, needed; and his biggest fucking fear is becoming obsolete. He could probably trace it back to his parents, the first to forget him, the first to stop loving him, but the fact remains that now Eddie has fulfilled that fear too. Now Eddie has carved that pit a little deeper, a little darker, validating the voice that whispers within it and tells Steve that he is forgettable, unlovable, so easy to abandon and erase. 

“Well, I love you,” Robin tells him, like she can read his mind (which, at this point, she probably can). She slides an arm around his shoulders, hugs him close. “And I’m not going anywhere.” 

Fragile as he is right now, Steve falls apart again in her arms, and she holds him together. Because she knows him, because she loves him.

It’s a quieter cry this time, soft and sniffly. Whereas the last one wracked through his body and left him fatigued, this one flows from him almost gently, and when his tears finally subside and he lifts his head from where it had been buried in his friend’s shoulder, Steve actually feels a little bit better, a little bit stronger. Which is good, because he’s gonna have to face Eddie again soon. 

“Thank you,” he says quietly as he pulls away from Robin, wiping at his eyes and glancing at the clock on her nightstand. It’s definitely been an hour by now, probably more. He stands. “I have to go, I promised the kids I’d take them to see Eddie.” 

“Then I’m coming too.” Robin stands with him. “For moral support.” 

Steve gives her a grateful smile. “I love you so fucking much, you know that?” 

“Yeah.” She grins at him. “I know.” 

~ 

The nurses have changed his bandages and upped his morphine, so Eddie’s considerably hazy now but at least he can raise his headrest and prop himself up a bit without nearly blacking out from pain. He’s boredly flicking through channels on the shitty TV in front of him, alone since Wayne had to leave for work, when Harrington returns followed by a very unexpected group consisting of Robin Buckley and four strange children. 

“Sorry,” Harrington announces their presence with an apologetic shrug, “I know you don’t know them anymore, but they insisted.” 

“Eddie!” a pudgy, curly-haired kid shouts before Eddie can even react, coming barrelling towards him and trying to hug him. 

“Ow!” Eddie yelps, pain flaring even through the extra morphine. “Fucking Christ, kid! Be careful!” 

The kid jumps back immediately, eyes wide. “Shit. Sorry.” 

“S’fine,” Eddie grumbles.

The kid looks at him expectantly for a moment before seeming to realize, “Oh, right, you don’t remember me. I’m Dustin.” 

“Ah, so you’re the guy I sacrificed myself for,” Eddie mutters, and Dustin looks a little sheepish. That means these must be ‘the kids’ Harrington had been talking about earlier. He surveys the group for a second. “Actually, I think we have met before,” he tells Dustin. “And you too.” He glances at a pale, dark-haired kid. The other two - a Black boy with a flat-top and a younger Black girl - look less familiar, though. “There was this, uh, open day thing at the high school for next year’s incoming freshmen; I talked to you about Hellfire.”

“Yeah!” Dustin’s whole face lights up, so bright and infectious it makes Eddie grin too. “Yeah, you did!” 

“So you guys joined the club, then?” 

This sparks a very animated conversation about D&D, the rest of the kids (Mike, Lucas, and Erica, as they soon reintroduce themselves) gathering around his bed now too to join in. It makes him feel a bit more like himself again, familiar, normal. Except, of course, for the fact that they’re not only talking about how they defeated Vecna in Eddie’s “totally epic” and “sadistic” campaign (adjectives courtesy of Dustin and Mike respectively), but also filling in more pieces of the story of how they defeated him in real life too. Still, it’s nice, fun. He totally understands how he could’ve gotten attached to these kids.

At some point, Eddie glances over to find Harrington hanging back and just watching them talk, fondly, wistfully. Robin whispers something to him and he sort of smiles, just a trace, and whispers something back. They seem close, intimate. Eddie wonders if they’re dating, and then he wonders why that thought makes him feel a bit sick. He waves them over. Harrington looks like he’s about to protest, but Robin gives him a Look and he allows her to grab his hand and drag him to join the crowd around Eddie’s bed. 

“So, what’s your deal, Buckley?” Eddie asks her. He doesn’t know her very well, they’ve only crossed paths a few times in the bandroom, but right now that makes her the most familiar person in the room to him. “Are you and Harrington a thing now? Is that how you’re involved in all this?” 

Robin wrinkles her nose and drops Harrington’s hand. “Ew, no. Definitely not.” 

“She’s my best friend,” Harrington says. 

Eddie snorts, doesn’t know why he finds that so comical. (He’s starting to get tired and it’s making him loopy. Or maybe it’s just the morphine.) “You've got a funny choice of friends nowadays, don’t you? Me and band geek Buckley and a bunch of nerdy freshmen.” He looks at Harrington with incredulous amusement. “Who would've thought, huh? Steve Harrington, collector of geeks and freaks.” 

Harrington doesn’t seem to find it as funny. He shrugs. “Yeah, well, it’s better than King Steve, collector of asshole bullies and shallow one-night stands.” 

“Yeah, ‘course it is,” Eddie agrees through another huff of laughter that breaks off into a yawn. “Didn’t mean it as a bad thing, Stevie. Was a compliment.” 

“Alright.” The barest hint of a smile flickers across Harrington’s face now, but then he’s looking away and corralling the kids and saying, “We should head out, let you get some rest.” 

And Eddie kind of wishes he’d stay.

(part three!)

taglist: @romanticdestruction @daydreamsandcrashingwaves @paintsplatteredandimperfect @hallucinatedjosten @mugloversonly @estrellami-1 @alongcomesaspider @thatonebadideapanda @tell-me-a-secret-a-nice-one @dragonmama76 @wxrmland @nuggies4life @sirsnacksalot @myguiltyartpleasure @marklee-blackmore @vinteraltus @sebastiansstanswhore @0happyeverafter0 @scarlet-malfoy (only tagged people who explicitly asked to be tagged; if you would like to be added or removed from this list please lmk!)

[httpiastri]

paul aron x reader, 18+

"you've made quite the mess here, love."

a scoff slips past your lips, a look of feigned offense appearing on your face. "me?" you exclaim, shaking your head. "i think you're just as guilty as i am."

"possibly," paul answers with a shrug. "but you were the one who looked so irresistible that i couldn't wait until we got back home." his hands move from your hips up to cup your cheeks, guiding your face down to his height and pressing a kiss to your forehead. "now, i think you should slip off me so i can clean you up properly."

he leans over to the passenger's seat, pulling open the glove compartment and grabbing a box of tissues. "what if i want to stay here forever?"

he shakes his head, looking down with a grin as he pulls a few tissues out of the box. "you're a mess. i can buy new pants, sure, but…" his other hand lands on your hip again, giving you a few pats. "i can't have you leaking on the seats."

this has you rolling your eyes. however, you place your hands on his shoulders, beginning to slide off his length. "of course, your dear porsche. how could i forget?"

"oh, don't pout," he says, a hint of that teasing smile still on his lips as he starts wiping at the inside of your thighs. "you know i love you both equally."

you press your lips into a straight line, just staring at him silently for a few moments. "glad to know i'm equal to a car."

"to a porsche," he's quick to correct, grin growing bigger by the second. "now, come on and sit back a little so i can clean you up properly."

you let out an exaggerated sigh but oblige, tilting your hips slightly so that he can reach between your legs to wipe away some of your combined juices. he's so gentle, a bit of a contrast to how he acted mere minutes ago when he thrusted up into you, and he really takes his time to make sure to get every last drop with the tissues.

"you know i'm just kidding, right?"

most of the time, paul hides behind this tough, cold and careless exterior – but you know better than that. you know about the gentle, warm and loving person hiding beneath that mask; the boy who needs to be reassured even in moments of clear jest such as this one.

he visibly relaxes when you nod, putting aside the used tissues into the little trashcan he keeps on the floor of the backseat. "just wanted to make sure," he mumbles, partially to himself, before taking a deep breath. "you're the most important thing in my life. and i love you so much."

his hand meets your cheek again, tilting your head to the side before pressing a sweet kiss to the sensitive spot below your ear. "i love you so much, too," you respond easily.

"good." his fingers move up to brush a few loose pieces of hair out of your eyes. "because no matter what, i'm completely and utterly yours. no matter how much i may fawn over my porsche."

"well, i mean… i understand it." you shrug. "you didn't pay hundreds of thousands for me…"

"right? you see my point, don't you?"

[rinhaler]

NOTSCAREDNOTSCAREDNOTSCARED!

✧˖*°࿐ : 18+ only, no minors.    ✧. ┊ frat boy!oliver aiku x f!reader

Genre: college!au (mostly shameless smut tbh) Notes: first fic on my new blog and it's absolutely disgusting, enjoy. Warnings: 18+, noncon, somnophilia, drugging, virgin killer!oliver, implied virgin reader, tit sucking, pussy eating, biting, fingering, marking, love bites ♡, creampie, spit, alcohol consumption, lmk if I missed any!! Words: 5.3k

What a naïve little thing you are.

That’s the first thing Oliver thinks when he sets his sights on you. A shy, sweet girl wearing the one and only cocktail dress you probably own. It’s so simple but makes a loud statement. You don’t look like the other girls here. You aren’t wearing designer clothes that fit you like a glove, no. The ill-fitting garment you’ve chosen to wear speaks volumes to your innocent nature and your lack of confidence. You don’t have friends, do you? You’re here, alone, in the sleaziest and most prolific fraternity on campus. Of course, it’s a party, and anyone is welcome to attend. But the fact that you decided to come here, alone, makes him think you might be a little stupid.

But that suits him just fine.

He doesn’t approach immediately, for fear of giving the game away too soon. He bides his time and observes your behaviours and mannerisms as you wade through the crowds. His eyes have followed your longing gaze a few times and noticed how you keep looking towards the kitchen. It’s the busiest room in the house right now, he assumes. That’s where the keg and all of the alcohol is.

But almost as soon as you look that way, you avert your eyes and look elsewhere in search of a place to belong. You’ve tried starting a few conversations with the girls, but Oliver knows how catty and mean they can be. Poor thing, fresh meat like you doesn’t stand a chance.

You’re lonely, aren’t you? You’ll feel better with a little company, yeah?

He carefully walks by you in a way that will cause you to spill the drink from your grasp. And with that, this sinful game can begin. The one in which he tells you how sorry he is for causing an accident and ruining your dress. He’s so apologetic that you just can’t help but forgive him right away. And his attractiveness doesn’t go amiss. The kindest person you’ve met thus far just so happens to be so deliciously handsome.

“Let me get you a refill, it’s only fair.” he winks. And you hate yourself because your stomach flits at the casual gesture. It’s probably a line that he uses on all of the girls he meets at parties like this. It’s plain to see that he’s confident. You’re sure there won’t be a shortage of girls throwing themselves at him after a gesture like that.

But you aren’t stupid enough to be the same.

He seems older, by at least two years. He seems comfortable enough here to get you a drink so maybe this is his party. He could have a girlfriend for all you know that is in another room and completely oblivious. You don’t want to make waves before you even experience your first day of class.

People seem friendlier towards you when they notice you with him. Is it genuine? Or could they be laughing at you? His hand resides in the small of your back as he guides you far into the kitchen; until you’re standing between an island counter and the fridge. Your body is warming, and, fuck, he can feel it. You’re so shy. He hasn’t seen a girl like you in a long time. The slightest bit of attention and touching and you’re putty in his hand. What a good girl you are, he’s going to have so much fun with you.

You watch him, carefully, as he rummages through the fridge and grabs a can of beer.

You’re a little deflated as he cracks it for himself and begins to chug.

“I didn’t catch your name.” he states as his unmistakable eyes watch you intently. He has eyes you’ve never seen before, and you’ll have a hard time forgetting. Mismatched purple and green. They’re dull, but not uninteresting by any means. They’re the eyes of a man who always gets what he wants. Those eyes beautiful eyes… they’re bored because they are a prestigious, all access key to gain whatever his heart desires. You hum, hesitating for a moment until you decide you’re too awkward and uncomfortable to hide your name from him. “Oh, that’s a real pretty name. I’m Oliver.” he introduces himself.

“Hey… Oliver.” you smile, unsure of how to respond. You’re so on edge. His peculiar eyes are examining each and every movement you make like you’re being graded. And your heart is pounding… you can’t help yourself. Nobody here has extended so much as a pitying smile. You want to pass his test, he’s the only person being remotely nice to you. But still, there’s a gnawing feeling eating away and corroding your insides and it makes you feel like a criminal, like you’re doing something wrong.

Like you absolutely should not be talking to him right now.

“You’re pretty too.” he smiles, brazenly. His voice is so deep and charming, a sonorous lull as he knows all he needs to do is utter these three simple words to get a girl like you to be completely and utterly captivated. It’s such a pathetic, insipid sentence and you can’t stand that it’s working on you.

You get a full view of his wide, toothy grin and you sense that he’s trying to extend a gesture of trust to you. And you’re encapsulated by it. Pristine pearls almost blinding you and short circuiting your brain as you arrive at the realisation that he might be perfect. His features nothing short of perfection and accentuate his beguiling persona that you can’t get enough of. You haven’t even noticed the way your chest is heaving as you devour a mind-altering cocktail with him as the main ingredient.

And he can’t help but chuckle when he notices how flustered you’ve become from his words, you adorable thing. Three little words are making you squeeze your thighs together and fold your arms over your chest. And don’t think he hasn’t noticed the quickened breaths you’re taking and the dampening forehead you’re suddenly trying to wipe away. He’s noticing everything about you and making mental notes in his mind he will use later.

Do you know how vulnerable you��re being?

You should know better than to be so visibly rattled by him. He may be handsome but he’s hardly screaming upstanding citizen at you. It’s the facial hair. It’s so grotesque and sleazy and wholly unpleasant. And still, the only thought swirling around your tiny, tipsy mind is how it would feel against your skin as you kiss. How would the scruff feel between your inner thighs as he devoured your petalled flesh. You shouldn’t be thinking like this, you aren’t sure what’s wrong with you.

You don’t know how to act, do you?

“Don’t be so nervous, sweetheart.” he tells you, getting closer. The smell of his cologne invading your senses. It’s familiar, it smells expensive and suits him just fine. The type of fragrance you’d save for a special occasion to make an impact and impress people you’re around. Your nostrils flare as you inhale more. More of it. More of him. You need more.

He angles his head as he monitors your response to his proximity. He grins when he notes that you aren’t sure where to put your hands. Moving them a few times before you decide to grip the overhang of the counter behind you until the skin covering your knuckles are taut, turning white. You want to feel his chest, don’t you? It’s so broad and muscular and peaking under his shirt, he doesn’t blame you. You probably haven’t had much experience with a guy like him.

He's more than happy to show you.

You’re starting to think your heart is packing up its belongings and preparing to flee from your own chest as you feel it beating rapidly against your ribs. He’s so intoxicating, you feel lightheaded and overwhelmed by the mere presence of him. His body is trapping yours against the counter. He’s so damn tall, taller than you could have possibly imagined now that he’s pressed against you like this. Your cheeks fill with heat, and you think you might actually faint against him if he doesn’t move away. “There are bad guys at places like this, y’know? Dangerous place to be so pretty.” he warns you, whispering gently in your ear. The tone rushing through your veins and forcing you to shiver. His eyes meet yours after he speaks, his stare willing you to understand what he’s saying.

“T-Thank you…” you mumble.

“Hey, don’t worry so much. I’m the house president, I’ll keep an eye on you.” he assures you, moving away ever so slightly while keeping a lingering hand on your shoulder. A commanding touch to make your body and your mind focus on him. His hand is cold to the touch and you realise it’s from holding the metal can, cold from the refrigerator. The cooling caress of his fingers is polar opposite to the warm smile he’s offering you. You aren’t sure what to do or say, but you need not worry about yourself anymore. He had intended on doing all of your thinking for you tonight, anyway. “Oh, shit, you wanted a drink, right? Let me get one for you.” he speaks, his body moving to act before you can even answer.

“U-Um…” you hesitate, seeing him grab a bottle of rum and a mixer. You hate spirits because they always get you embarrassingly wasted. There are four prominent occasions in the forefront of your mind as you reminisce on the states you’ve found yourself in after drinking spirits. The smell alone is enough to make you gag, but you do all you can to ignore it. You don’t want to make a fool of yourself, you don’t want to do something humiliating that will be talked about for years to come.

You aren’t a prude; you aren’t opposed to getting drunk. You just don’t think it’s a good way to introduce yourself.

He’s moving so fast, and his back is to you as he pours your drink, the red solo cup obscured from your vision as he fills it to the brim for you.

You dumb little thing.

Isn’t this something you’ve been warned about? Not letting your drinks out of your sight at any point, ever. Of course you have, it’s rule number one of going to parties or nightclubs or anywhere that your drink can be tampered with.

You just aren’t thinking straight.

And why would you?

You’re so out of place in this big, intimidating environment. You’re hardly going to suspect the first person to show you a bit of kindness is actually the shadiest guy at the party. But deep down, you know you should consider everyone a suspect after hearing what he had to say. If the guys here are so shady, why does he stick with them? If he’s the president, why doesn’t he tell them to do better?

These few fleeting thoughts have been nothing but. Passing ideas that you thought of and discarded as quickly as they arrived. You can’t live your life in fear or you’ll never make any friends here. And he’s going to all of this trouble for you. You’re nobody to him, and he’s still finding it in his heart to extend a benevolent demeanour to you and making sure you have a drink and a friendly face to keep you company for the night.

So you aren’t going to think twice that he’s slipped something in your drink, you can’t see what he’s doing, but for some reason, you trust him. Would you trust him, still, if he wasn’t so good looking? Would you trust him less if he hadn’t announced he is the fraternity president? He knows you’d never have trusted receiving a drink from him if he just offered it to you out of nowhere.

He’s happy he didn’t have to work too hard, you aren’t completely stupid, but you’re still dumb enough to accept a drink from him like this. You barely even think about it as he flashes you a beaming smile and hands it to you. Hell, it might even loosen you up. You knock half of it back in three seconds and you giggle after the fact.

He’s laughing too.

But it’s at your expense, you poor, sweet thing. You’re going to be seeing so many stars tonight, a sight reserved for Oliver’s favourite angels.

“You’re crazy, huh? You like to party a lot, baby?” he wonders, taking another swig of his drink as he rests against the fridge beside him.

“No, never! This is my first big party.” you confess, and he doesn’t miss the way you slightly cringe at yourself for saying something you must think is a little embarrassing. “I mean, I’ve been to parties… this one is just—”

“You’ll get used to it.” he tells you. “The first one is always memorable, though.”

“Really? How come?” you ask, curiously.

God you’re so cute, it’s killing him. Even he can’t hide the smirk forming on his face as he tries to conceal it with his beer. He decides to not answer. Instead, he admires the way you look disappointed at the prospect of him losing interest in you. He thinks he could bathe in the watery sheen glossing over your eyes as you worry that you’ve said something so stupid that he doesn’t want to talk to you anymore.

He's such a disgustingly vile man. All he can think to do is refuse to put you out of your misery. Instead, he revels in the way you knock back the rest of your drink. The way your eyes widen paints a perfect picture in telling him it was too strong for you. Stronger than anything you’ve ever drank in your life. And that’s without the added ingredient he decided to slip in.

“I— do you have a girlfriend?” your question is abrupt as you wipe the excess liquid from your plump lips. Your watery eyes watching him keenly as you do your best to decipher his intentions.

“No.”

You scoff and shake your head. “I don’t even know why I asked you that, as if you’d tell the truth.” you mumble to yourself, but it’s loud enough for him to hear. And just as you’re about to walk away, he responds.

“I don’t care if you know whether I have a girlfriend or not. I would only care if I was trying to fuck you.” the sentence rolls off his tongue with ease. Like he knew exactly what you were going to say before you even thought of it. And you feel a wave of humiliation crash throughout your body; you feel a current trying to drag you under and suffocate you under the foaming sea.

“Y-You aren’t?” you need to stop talking. You need to stop embarrassing yourself like this. For his benefit. For the other people in the kitchen with you. It feels like everyone is staring at you and laughing at your expense. Maybe you’re just drunk and being paranoid. You should go, you should sprint out of here with whatever small scraps of dignity you have left.

He shakes his head, his hand reaching out to yours to pull you closer to him. It trails, up your side and to your chin as your eyes fixate on his. His thumb smooths over your chin, encouraging you to open your mouth for him. He tilts his can of beer onto your lower lip. The golden, yeasty liquid spills from the metal container and onto your tongue. Your eyes don’t leave his as all you can do is stand there and take it. Your little throat expanding with each glug of the disgustingly bitter drink.

Your body is once again pressed against the counter. He snickers when he feels your body jolt against his as you hear the sound of the beer can he was holding clattering against the tiled floor. And he takes great delight in the way your body melts against his touch as he places a hand on your hip. The other, smoothing the shell of your ear before he levels his mouth with it.

“I don’t need to try, I’m going to fuck you.” he whispers, he kisses against your ear a few times and the sound rushes straight to your clit. You squeeze your thighs together again hoping to alleviate the brewing tension. You pray you were discreet enough for him to not notice.

You weren’t.

And it’s worse as he kisses your neck so openly in front of everyone. He sucks and sucks and sucks until his name is signed in blue and purple blooms against your skin. You bite your lip, internally cursing him for forcing you to have to wear a scarf for the coming weeks until it fades away.

“S-Stop it.” your legs buckle and there is something wrong with your eyes. The room won’t stop spinning. You didn’t drink that much, did you?

“Woah!” Oliver exclaims as you fall into his hold. “You don’t know how to handle your drink, hm? I think you need to sleep it off.”

“T-Tax—”

“No, no. I’d be a terrible host if I made you get a taxi all by yourself. C’mon.” he lifts you with ease, your entire body limp in his arms. And he just can’t believe how lucky he is. How blessed he is to be born so genetically gifted. Because he knows there is no way in hell he’d be getting away with this if he wasn’t attractive. Girls looking at him like he’s some kind of hero coming to your rescue. Him, a hero. It would almost be hilarious if it wasn’t so fucking tragic.

There’s no way you’re forgetting your first frat party.

He’ll make sure of that.

As he passes a few of his brothers on the stairs, they all share a knowing look. Like this isn’t the first time Oliver has been in this predicament. And it surely won’t be the last. He winks at them as he walks by, and he puts you down as he reaches his door, your body dropping like a stone as he lets you fall with no care.

You can do nothing but groan as he drags you by your underarms and into his room. God you want to go home. Not to your student accommodation. Home. You want to be with your parents and under your own roof, sleeping in your own bed. It’s hard to even tell where you are. Are you still in the kitchen? No, there’s no way.

All you can think about is how tired you are.

Suddenly, you’re in the air, being flung onto a nearby bed. You feel like your body doesn’t belong to you. You’re no longer in control and you can’t move your limbs how you want to. You want to use your legs and walk right on out of here and into a taxi.

But you’re lucky, really.

Your body doesn’t belong to you anymore. It’s all his. His to do whatever he wants with. You can’t move, and yet Oliver is going to be kind enough to move you however he likes. Maybe you don’t feel so lucky about it. But you’re just confused right now. Oliver knows you wanted this. Wanted him. The pill in your drink was just a little insurance policy to make sure everyone got what they want.

He prefers girls like this anyway.

Nice ‘n pliant.

“Said I’d take care of you, didn’t I?” he smiles, lecherous hands feeling each and every inch of your body. A curious hand reaching up to touch the fat flesh of one of your tits as he massages it over your tiny little dress. “Think you can wear something like this and expect me not to fuck you?” he whispers.

“Mmmpf…” you hum, there’s still a little defiance in you. At this point, he wouldn’t mind if you were on the cusp of sleep. There’s something so special to him about extracting salacious moans from unconscious bodies.

“’m just getting you out of this little thing… gonna find a comfy t-shirt for you to wear to sleep.” he assures you. He wonders if you believe him. He almost believes himself. But as he pulls down the strapless bust of your dress and your supple flesh is revealed to him, the thought of covering it again dies an instant death in his mind. “Fuuuuuck, gorgeous fuckin’ tits.” he moans, his bulge straining against his jeans as envisions himself sucking them until they’re puckered and raw.

He climbs over you, your tiny frame beneath his domineering one. He’s sure you hadn’t neglected to notice how muscular he is before you passed out, even beneath his clothes. He must be some kind of athlete. He’s too beefy not to be. And boy, does he use his weight and size to his advantage when he’s dealing with delicate things like you.

His head practically falls from his shoulder as he decides to let his fantasy come to life. He licks and laves over your tits individually until he gets a little rougher. Softly nibbling the tender buds until they are aching and so sore. His teeth bruise your flesh as he marks them. An assortment of canines and molars as well as decorative love bites.

Any chance you had of forgetting this party are gone.

You’ll know what happened to you.

You might even remember who did it.

But there’s no way a sweet, timid freshman like you is going to have the courage to tell such an unbelievable tale. You might think there are steps in place to protect innocent things like you. You’re a victim, after all. You need protecting. But once again, that would just be so telling as to how naïve you truly are. Drugging pretty girls at college parties is never going to end. The staff, the students, even the police are never going to side with you.

And why would they? These false statements issued by the board, talks of ‘standing with victims’ and offering a listening ear are nothing but lip service. The institution you have found yourself in will say anything to seem like a worthwhile choice. The right and most beneficial choice to you and your future.

But the harrowing truth is that they don’t have time to protect girls like you when they are too busy covering up the messes of men like him.

He pushes your dress up to your midsection, exposing a pair of white lace panties.

“Awe, for me? You knew you were gonna get lucky tonight, didn’t you?” he asks. But of course, you’re unresponsive. His finger prods at the thin material, an involuntary laugh leaving his lungs as he is greeted with the feeling of your soaked underwear on the pad of his digit. “Too dumb t’speak right now… good job your cunt is telling me how much you want me.”

His thumb circles your clit over the material. And even he’s a little dumbfounded at the way your body betrays you. You squirm and your brows furrow as you try to stave off the pleasurable feeling. But for all he knows, you could be trying to fight him off.

He doesn’t care, though, your pussy already gave your true feelings away.

Even he can’t ignore the way his cock is leaking at the sight of your tight heat becoming exposed as he peels away your panties. A slick string connecting your sex to the material.

You must be a virgin, he thinks. Virgins get wet so easily. He suspected it from the moment he saw you. You’re so awkward and uncomfortable around people, but especially guys. You fumble over your words, and you can’t flirt to save your fucking life. But he didn’t care. The thought of your first time being with him was enough to make him want you. And even if you have fucked before. It doesn’t matter, he doesn’t need to know. The very thought is enough.

He pins your knees to your chest, and he begins to feast on your dripping cunt. You shudder as your body feels the tension building with each suckle and slurp against your clit. It’s unrelenting, he can’t get enough of you. He’s fucking addicted to the taste of your slick and he doesn’t know how he’s gone so long without it. Your left leg ragdolls as he lets go, opting to slip a finger into your unprepared hole without stopping his assault on your swollen clit.

And without hesitation, he’s adding another. He takes his time scissoring you open, and by now he’s convinced you’re a virgin. You’re so fucking tight. There’s no way you’ve had a dick inside of you. Or if you have, it must have been small.

You won’t have to worry about that with him.

Even unconscious, he’s sure you’ll feel how he’s gonna stretch you.

Your lazy groans are like a cheer to him. Your body is telling him what a great job he’s doing. How close you are. How badly you want to cum in his mouth and douse his thick, calloused fingers in your syrupy sheen.

The tip of his tongue lashes over the throbbing button at the apex of your thighs. He doesn’t particularly care if you take him well or not. You’re going to take him regardless. But he isn’t so heartless he won’t try and make it a little less painful for you. He’s urging you to cum for him, his free hand pressing down on your abdomen in a bid to enhance your pleasure. With each whip of his tongue against your clit and every press of your spongy insides with his fingers, he’s trying to drag you over the edge.

Your lifeless body surprises him once more.

He pulls away and observes the way your pussy pulses and your walls tighten around his fingers as you begin to cum for him. Your spent little cunt drooling around his thick digits and coating them in your slick. You even moaned for him. Not loudly, of course. A few tell-tale grunts to let him know you were happy with his work.

His eyes ogle your tits once again, admiring the way your chest rises and falls as he sucks his fingers clean. You’re so fucking cute. You must be heaven sent, the way you stepped into the frat may as well have been a gift with a garish bow from Santa Claus himself.

He unbuckles his belt with one hand whilst squeezing and pinching your nipples once again. They’re so pretty, the prettiest pair of tits he’s ever seen. He’s rock hard in his jeans, leaking like crazy and desperate to be buried to the hilt in your sweet little snatch.

And his heavy cock springs free, the tip leaving evidence of just how desperate he is on his v-neck shirt. Pearly pre shimmering against the black material that is soon to dry and harden and meld with the cotton fibres. But he can’t find it in himself to care. He pulls it over his head and throws it into the corner of his room, he’ll deal with it another time. There’s something much more entertaining lying atop his sheets right now.

“Mmm… think this is gonna hurt sweetheart. But you’re gonna be good ‘n take it f’me, yeah?” he lines himself up with your entrance and gives your still body one final look before breaching your insides with his thick cockhead. “Fuckin’ hell you’re tight. You’re so fucking tight, might cum just from this.” he speaks.

He knows you can’t understand him, but he can’t stop himself from communicating with you anyway. He needs you to know how special you are. That out of all of the girls at the party, he chose you. Don’t you feel special? He’s sure you will when you’re stuffed full of his cum. It’ll all dawn on you tomorrow and you’ll feel so honoured that the one and only Oliver Aiku fucked you open and covered you in so many pretty patterns and was even kind enough to pump you full of his cum.

You have no idea how much restraint he’s showing by not instantly splitting you open on his thick, heavy cock. He can’t help but feel that slowly plunging into your virgin walls is a better display of claiming your body. It’s almost torture for him, easing in inch at a time at an agonising pace.

And when he’s fully sheathed inside your suffocating walls, the pleasure is almost too much, he could shed a tear at the feeling. But, of course, he won’t. He’s prioritising the task at hand.

He holds under your knee and pushes it further into your chest and begins to slowly roll his hips. It’s hypnotising, the way even out of consciousness your eyes can still roll back into your skull. He takes note of how he’s moving when your eyelids begin to flutter.

“Oh baby… right there? Like it when I fuck you there?” he wonders, experimenting with his movement and speeding up ever so slightly. His cockhead is nudging your g-spot so perfectly. It’s so deliciously soft, and those saccharine expressions you’re donning are about to drag him to an early demise.

His grip on your thigh is harsh. Another galaxy of purple bruises forming under his fingers on your doughy skin. He hasn’t noticed. It’s second nature to him to be a little rougher than intended. But it’s part of the fun, right? More little discoveries for you to find in days to come.

He’s entranced by the way his cock vanishes inside of your cute cunt. He’s being swallowed whole by your sticky lips. The sound reverberates throughout the room. The suctioning sounds of you pulling him inside and the tackiness of your pussy and his cock meeting again and again and again.

Your eyes squint as he yanks down your jaw until he sees your tongue. He’s so abhorrent and even at this point he knows this to be the truth himself. He just can’t fucking help it. He wants to do anything and everything to you. He wants to humiliate you because you’re just that special to him. With a cartoonish ‘ptuh’ sound, a glob of spit has landed on your tongue and is slowly sliding down your throat.

With a few more presses of his tip against your sweet spot, you’re spasming around him again. Maybe you liked it after all. You wouldn’t cum if you didn’t. Do you like being taken advantage of by reprehensible scum like Oliver Aiku? Do you like being unconscious while getting your insides pummelled? This might warp your tiny little mind. Maybe you’ll think this is love and this is what you’re meant for. It is, as far as Oliver is concerned. He doesn’t let up humping into your tiny hole. He spits in your mouth again, and it’s the final straw to pull him into his oncoming bliss right along with you.

“Little slut,” he pants, his hips faltering as he feels himself reaching the precipice. “Mine. My little slut. My fuckin’ cunt. H-Hear me? Mine.” he practically growls as he shoots load after load into your unprotected womb. “Ah— fuck. Fuuuuuck—” he finishes, fucking his viscous seed back into you.

He pulls out immediately after, admiring the way his sperm drips and squelches out of your spent cunt. You’re clenching around nothing, poor thing. You must miss him.

But you don’t have to worry. You won’t have to miss him for long. You’re not done, after all. He just needs some time to recharge. He wasn’t just going to fuck you once and be done with you. Not a perfect little pussy like that, no. Those drugs will be in your system for a few hours.

He’s far from done with you yet.

© 2023 rinitxshi

[mondaymelon]

— 𝗷𝗲𝗮𝗹𝗼𝘂𝘀𝘆, 𝗷𝗲𝗮𝗹𝗼𝘂𝘀𝘆…♡

໒꒱ || :feat~ yandere!childe, dottore, scaramouche x gn!reader:

໒꒱ || cw: low and behold, jealousy, possessive + obsessive (who would’ve thought), oops he’s yandere mb, established relationship, dottore... chokes you? you’re his subordinate + dr*gging (scara) dont ask me what im doing i dont know either

⤷ “You’re mine, and I’ll make sure you won’t forget that.”

“Where were you yesterday night?”

CHILDE’s empty gaze lands on you and doesn’t let you leave it’s sight as soon as you walk through the door. You sense an air of displeasure surrounding your boyfriend as he leans back on the wall, arms crossed over his chest with his eyes fixtated on you. You haven’t done anything wrong, so why do you feel like a deer caught in headlights?

“I just went out with some friends…?” You aren’t sure of the source of his inexplicable anger, but you decide it’d be best not to trigger it.

“They treated me to some street food, and that was it, really…” It’s hard to elaborate further with the harbinger keeping completely silent, and his gaze feels like it’s piercing you.

He echoes a word that seems to have sparked his interest. “‘They?’” “Uhm- you know, Xingqiu, Chongyun, and Xiangling…”

Unconsciously, you let a brief smile cross your face at the mention of your good friends’ names, remembering the lively bustle of Liyue Harbor and the many laughs shared between the four of you.

It’s a sight that doesn’t escape Childe’s keen eye. Instantly, he’s three steps closer, with your chin raised in his gloved hand. “Wipe that smile off of your face, goddamnit.” He speaks through gritted teeth, though his harsh voice is obscured by the way his words come out as a soft hiss. His brows are furrowed, eyes flashing with annoyance as he pauses and takes in a deep breath.

“Wh…what’s with you? Don’t do those things so suddenly!” You yelp, attempting to move away only for your back to hit the wall.

The male only lets out a breathy laugh. “Ah, honestly, I don’t know what I’m doing either…” He’s much more reserved now, but you know him well enough to be aware of how he’s silently seething under the surface. “Archons, you’re a troublesome thing, aren’t you? To think affection would do such a thing to me… hah, what a thrill!” He glances up long enough for you to catch his twisted expression, eyes blown and a smile spreading across his face. “Jealousy, hm? Hahaha, oh how the troops would ridicule me if they knew!” He stops to take in a breath, his chest heaving up and down erratically. What a fool you’ve made me, darling.”

“Wh-What?” He’s moving closer, too close, his hot breath fanning your face.

“Look at me, you’ve made me a pliable idiot under your touch, haven’t you? Don’t even think about leaving now.”

“You don’t have to worry, all I’ll do is just make sure that pretty little head if yours doesn’t think about anything except me only.” ♡

“A friend, you say?”

DOTTORE has a quizzical look about him, as it’s rather odd how much amusement his crimson eyes hold. “Hmm, is that so?”

“Yes…?” You don’t know what has come over your boyfriend at the moment, but he ponders your words as if they hold a different meaning - which, they don’t. Something about the way he stares at you makes you feel like the guilty party… but you haven’t done anything wrong, have you?

“I need a name.” He whips out a small notebook out of seemingly nowhere, a pen also appearing in his hand.

“Oh, uhm-“ You momentarily pause, hesitant as you pictured the familiar fox-eared forest ranger. “He’s not exactly fond of the Fatui…”

The male lets out a hum, smile only spreading wider. “All the better. Explain him. Thoroughly.”

You frown. “Why are you so fixated on-“

You swallow your words as they’re interrupted by a sound that’s more akin to a bark than a  laugh. “Ahhh, I knew giving you my hand would be beneficial, just look how delightfully humorous you are!” He strides closer, one step, then another, effortlessly closing the space between the two of you. You can feel his red gaze through where it’s obstructed from the mask he always dons, and you have a feeling that his eyes are trained toward your every move. “Do you truly mean to say that I am not to ask of this ‘friend’ of yours?”

“It shouldn’t be of your concern…”

“Oh, but it is.” Dottore does what looks like a shrug, an action you certainly wouldn’t put past him. “Do I not have the right to monitor my partner’s actions? Who knows,” He steps even closer, his arms positioned in either side of you. “What kind of things you might be doing with this ‘friend’ of yours?”

“Dottore, what you’re implying right now is-!”

“My name sounds good in your mouth. You should say it more often.” Even in such a situation, he won’t stop his teasing mannerisms. “Ah, but perhaps you say his name much more often, don’t you?”

The words escape your mouth before you can halt them: “Tighnari isn’t!-“

“Tighnari, you said?” Dottore lets out a low chuckle, his voice giving way to his definite ecstasy. “Ah, so that’s his name? I’ll be sure to remember it. Hm, who knows, perhaps he’d make a wonderful subject of mine?”

“Why- Why are you doing this??”

“Isn’t it obvious, darling?” He’s shifted closer once more, and the very air you breathe feels suffocating. “I desire for you, and only you. Ahhhahah, you have me wrapped around your finger, don't you? Carve up my heart for all it matters, just be mine.” His fingers find his way around your throat, and it’s even harder to inhale than before. Dizzying black spots begin to grow larger, casting the edges of your vision into to darkness. “But in order for to us to live happily, together, I’ll have to make sure of things first… and first on the list…” A low growl makes its way out of his throat. “I’ll just need to make sure there won’t be any lasting regrets for you, hm? Just a few dead here and there, who’s really going to notice? After all…”

“I can’t have you running from my grasp, can I?” ♡

“Why didn’t you tell me that you’d be going out tonight?”

SCARAMOUCHE’s scornful glare is enough to make you cower where you stand in front of the door to his private quarters. His significantly short stature made it rather difficult for him to tower over you, but the deathly aura that surrounded the male was already more than enough.

“My apologies, sir. I was not aware that it was mandatory to inform you of my departure.” You give him a swift bow, casting your eyes to the floor. Several possibilities ran through your head. Perhaps he’d just settle for a rather harsh scolding, or maybe a social probation. Either way, a small part of you stirred in annoyance at your superior’s words. Nowhere in the trainee handbook had such a rule been written! You had heard the not quite so savory rumors of the 6th Harbinger numerous times before, and while they had never really proved to be a significant problem, the reason they had even surfaced in the first place was beginning to dawn on you.

“Where?” He raises his hand, a sign to lift your head. He’s being rather gracious today…? Perhaps he had been in a good mood - that is, until you soured it.

“I’m sorry, sir?”

“Where did you go?” There’s clear frustration in his tone for having to repeat himself.

“To the nearest marketplace. The soldiers in the east quadrant needed more supplies.”

“And you complied? You let them just push you around like that?

“Respectfully, sir, if I hadn’t, they would’ve done the same and pestered someone else. There was no task assigned to us-”

“Us?”

“I and another lieutenant, sir. He agreed to help me because-”

“Did I grant you the right to go with that scum?” It startles you, how much venom lies in his words. Posture stiffening, you manage to glance up, only to meet his burning violet gaze.

“Sir, I don’t underst-”

“Of course you don’t understand.” Something seems to suddenly come over the harbinger as he doubles over in his signature maniacal laughter. “You never understand, do you??”

You take a step back, only for your heel to hit the wall behind you. “Lord Scaramouche…?” For every quickened breath you take, he sways an inch closer.

“I’ve been sending you so many signs, doing nearly everything in my power to just make it so my affection would get through to that dense head of yours, but no, you still remain ignorant, ignorant for how much I’m willing to do for you! Anything and everything, no matter where and what. If it means words of praise from your mouth and your warmth touch, then any task is worth fulfilling.” The malice in his eyes dims slightly as he closes them, smiling at you brightly as he slides his hand into yours. His hand is cool, his skin smooth and unblemished, yet rigidly unnatural, the sharp angles of his joints proof of the way he was crafted into this world. A being… incapable of love…? No, the heartless being in front of you was certainly capable, and far too deeply immersed in the feeling. His lips brush against yours, yet darken dangerously when you shift your head away as an act of avoidance.

“Don’t be like that, not after all the trouble I’ve went through, just to ensure that you’ll finally be in my arms…” There’s a flash of light, a tendril of purple lightning, and all of a sudden, your limbs feel weak. You don’t know when you’ve collapsed onto the floor, or when you’ve been nestled into Lord Scaramouche’s arms, but you’re able to make out his words through the fog in your mind.

“Ah? It seems that the solution I slipped into your dinner proved to be quite potent. It’s a shame you won’t be seeing more of it, but alas, I can’t possibly keep you here any longer. Not when there are countless of those dogs salivating over the thought of you, those wretched vermin…” Sensation in your fingers, his lips against the back of your hand as he kisses it gently.

“There won’t be any need to worry anymore, darling. I’ll be all that you need.” ♡

(a/n) for you guys who were hoping for something soft n fluffy, sorry, please take this offering as an apology.

“Ah, I hate this feeling, whenever you hang out with them it’s just…”

“Are you… jealous?”

“What?? No, no way!! Don’t get the wrong idea, alright?”

“Don’t worry love, you are my one and only beloved, so please don’t worry about me leaving you, because rest assured, it will never happen.”

“I…😭🥹🥺🥺”

smoochy smooch the end !!

help i feel like the quality of my fanfic is just slowly degrading over time have i peaked is it just downhill from here am i growing to become old and wrinkled 😞

(oh… it’s been a while hasn’t it…. a month of unexcused absence… i was trying to post this early but the yandere theme made me reach a stalemate FUCKK IM SORRY ILL WRITE MORE PSPSPS IM SORRY FOR NEGLECTING ALL OF YOU WAAAH)

໒꒱ || ᴛᴀɢʟɪꜱᴛ (open! send an ask or a comment ♡) : @manager-of-the-pudding-bank, @iamdedinside, @ilyuu, @achlysis, @swivy123

[sink-me-in-your-ocean]

𝔊𝔥𝔬𝔲𝔩𝔦𝔰𝔥 ℌ𝔢𝔞𝔡𝔠𝔞𝔫𝔬𝔫𝔰 II

How would the Ghouls & Copia manhandle you when you’re being naughty?

Prompt by the illustrious @endhisbloodlineinmyesophagus

NSFW/Suggestive below the cut.

Copia:

At first, he doesn’t realize why you’re doing what you’re doing

But then he puts the pieces together, and it makes his hands twitch

He makes you lay across his knees, never needing to ask more than once

He’s going to spank you with his gloved hands

He makes you count each one

“How many was that?”

“Five.” 

“You’re not counting properly, either that or you’re lying intentionally. I have no idea why you’d do such a thing.”

“I’d never say less with the intention of you giving me more on purpose.”

“I’m beginning to think these punishments aren’t working on you anymore, amore. Let’s try something else...”

-

Swiss:

Won’t hesitate to put you on a leash when you step out of line

When a leash won’t work he’ll resort to other methods

Ties. You. Down.

He will step back to admire his handiwork on you, after a moment of staring he forgets your transgressions because of how good you look tied up

He’s lost in the sauce

“Sweet fucking hells, you’ve never looked better.”

The gag in your mouth keeps you from speaking.

“Remind me, what were you doing that was so bad earlier?”

“Hrmph - ” The sound was muffled.

“Shhh, don’t talk with your mouth full. Now just stay right there.”

-

Phantom:

When you act up, it flips a switch in his brain

Picks you up with ease from the side, lifting you bridal style into his arms

The tightness of his grip on you speaks volumes to his possessiveness 

He scans for an unoccupied room, hells, even a dark corner to take you

He needs you immediately and he knows you need him just as badly

“Oh you’ve done it now, you’ve got my attention, so let’s go.”

“Phantom, slow down!”

“No. You fired me up now you can bring me back down.” He sets you down once you’re behind closed doors. “On your fucking knees.”

You kneel in front of him, eager to please him after misbehaving.

“Oh fuck, yes, such a good girl, just like that.”

-

Dewdrop/Sodo:

Misbehaving is a broad term to this ghoul, in fact, he likes when you’re naughty

Except when you give any attention to his brothers

Now that is a sure-fire way to pour gasoline on his flames

He comes up behind you when you least expect it (see where this is going?)

His long fingers wrap around your throat, pressing intentionally on your arteries, your head swooning in seconds

“Don’t go all limp on me yet.”

“But, Dew -” you whimper.

“Come on, you know exactly what you do to me. It was intentional, wasn’t it?”

“Yes.”

“Good. Now I’m going to be very intentional with you. I’m not letting you out of my sight the rest of the night.”

-

Rain:

He has infinite patience, at least until you vex him

And boy howdy, once you’ve crossed that bridge you’d better be prepared

There’s a determined look in his eye as he stalks towards you

He grabs your wrist, and even if you try to pull away, it’s impossible, his grip strength is too much

He drags you with him through the nearest corridor to a quiet space

“You’re going to be nice and quiet now for me.”

“What if I don’t want to?”

“Then I’ll make you.”

His hand clamps over your lips shockingly fast, leaving you a thin line to breathe from your nose.

“I love seeing you get a taste of your own medicine. Don’t like it when I match your energy? Don’t misbehave.”

-

Mountain:

Sits and watches stoically as you make a fool out of yourself 

Doesn’t need to say anything

Doesn’t need to do anything, but he does

He easily scoops you up, throwing you over his shoulder

He could spank you from here, but he prefers his partner underneath him (If you know what I mean)

“You do have to do all of that to get my attention, you know.” He plops you on his bed, climbing on top of you.

“I know, but maybe I’m looking for bad attention.”

“Yeah?”

You whine and writhe underneath him as he smacks (not hard) the thickness of your outer thigh.

“That’s what you want? Just ask next time, little villainess.”

-

Just da bois this time, but if you’d like me to include the ghoulettes pls just comment, I’m happy to oblige a fellow ghoulette lover! ( *︾▽︾)

Ghoulette Version Here!