#and I think my heart stopped briefly

[fluff-e-boy]

Video games are so cool but I am so so scared

[dangoulains-devotion]

thinking just a bit too hard about how the added depth given to tifa and aerith's friendship only increases the weight threatening to crush tifa after the forgotten capital, she already had so much to carry on her weary shoulders, she's going to have to carry even more when mideel happens, and it doesn't even stop after meteorfall, ohg od oh i love her so much i

[screampied]

you don’t really realize you’re growing old with satoru until you spot a grey tress inside the roots of your hair as you’re looking in the mirror. the thing about marriage and life itself was that time really doesn’t stop—for no one. as you entrap the lock between your fingers, you murmur out to satoru with a cheeky grin. “satoru baby, c’mere.”and as he’s lying in bed with a wrinkled nose, he reads some book titled ‘three men in a boat.’ as he flips a thick page, his cerulean blue reading glasses crook down the bridge of his nose before he turns his attention toward you.

“yesss, honey?” he rubs his eyes, bringing a palm up to his growing stubble. as he got older, you noticed how he moved a bit slower. satoru was still fit as he aged, but he’d have a bit of a waddle whenever he walked. it was cute—how his limbs were getting more and more fragile, but he was still labeled as the strongest despite his inevitable aging.

he makes his way behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist. the two of you make eye contact through the mirror that reflects you both, a happy married couple. “look, we’re finally matching now,” and his face softens once you bring the silvery colored strand up to his view. ‘matching,’ because his hair was naturally a snowy white . . almost similar to the strand of hair you just showed him.

although as the years progressed, satoru was growing ashen grey streaks too.

“i guess we are,” he replied in a gentle tone, his hands remaining on your hips. satoru’s touch was always gentle and ginger. he presses his lips near the back of your nape before letting off a soft sigh. “you’d look pretty with white hair, actually.”

“prettier than you?” you hum, glancing at him through the mirror. satoru towers over you as he holds you, the band of his wedding ring grazing against your hip.

again, you watch as the corners of his lips crease into a smile. a toothy genuine one where his dimples show.

“haha, veeeery funny,” and as he buries his face into your neck, he deeply ponders to himself for a moment.

to think . . how much time has passed, out of all the countless tiresome battles he’s had to face—

all those years at trying to keep the world safe and now, he could finally relax. having his arms around you gave him a peace of mind, and in the end it was all worth it because at the end of the day, satoru gojo—the strongest, came back to you. you were his personal safe haven and he was yours.

“but honeyyy,” he yawns with rosy pouty lips, shifting his chin up to rest against your left shoulder. satoru starts leading you toward your side of the bed. “ ‘s pretty late, let’s getcha back to bed, hm?”

“okay,” you mumble, already feeling your eyes starting to get heavy again. satoru’s still got his burly arms wrapped around your waist as he leisurely guides you back to bed. he was clingy, and that never changed. satoru gojo’s always been clingy ever since the two of you met. as he pulls down the cover for you to enter, you crawl back in and he gets beside you.

satoru slings an arm around you, pulling you close as his hooded eyes starts a staring contest with the swaying wooden ceiling fan.

it’s moving slow. . just like time was.

whenever he was with you, it felt as if time stood still. and as the both of you cuddled against each other with your head resting against his beating heart, he sighs. it’s a content happy sigh, and satoru’s hands find their way near the top of your head. his thin fingers maze it’s way near your soft grey growing strand before he leans in, giving the crown of your head a goodnight kiss. “mwah,” and he watches as your eyes briefly widen before glancing away, growing sheepish. “get some rest, my love. i’ll be here when you wake up. promise.”

you nod, too drowsy to reply and he pulls you closer. satoru’s heartbeat was steady and slow, and each pulse that bested against your ear made you felt more and more protected. as he holds you firm and close, a hand of his softly caresses your forehead—brushing against the soft hairs that cling onto your skin.

as your breathing starts to relax and your eyelids finally close, he realizes you finally drifted off to sleep. satoru exhales lowly, almost forgetting to take off his reading glasses. as he places them near the nightstand, he lies back down, giving your sleeping state once last glance.

“i love you,” he whispers against your ear before reaching for the pearled lamp switch. “so much.”your head nuzzles against his chest and he assumes that was your non-verbal way of saying it back, even in your sleep. cute.

the only sounds that could be heard were the faint tick tocking of the grandfather clock that stood near the hallway and your soft breathing as you deeply slept. satoru feels a smile tugging against his glossed lips yet again, but this time it’s different . .

it’s not the same smile from when you showed him that you were graying, it was a more genuine smile that was satisfied at everything—primarily at life. satoru’s long crystalline lashes gradually flap shut as he smiles to himself, a thumb brushing against your forehead. all those battles was worth it in the end, because right now, he’s at the only place he wanted to be . . with you.

life wasn’t a competition, but satoru finally felt at peace, true peace—and that peace was being in your presence. he wasn’t one for believing in good endings, but maybe this particular one wasn’t so bad.

“i . . won.”

[vaspider]

Tonight, the night before Election Day 2024 in the US, I am thinking about my stepkid.

I am thinking about the phone call they made to us earlier this year, the one where they told us they'd gone to the hospital thinking they had appendicitis and found out, instead, that a zygote - a tiny splodge of cells - had taken up residence not in their uterus but in a fallopian tube. The one where our kid said they were waiting for their partner to arrive, hoped that said partner would get there before the docs took our kid back to terminate that pregnancy, & assured us that they'd be okay.

After all, our kid lives in a state with choice measures embedded in state law. That pea-sized blot of tissue doesn't have more right to their health than they do. Nobody is standing between them and their doctors. They made a decision, and that was that.

In this tiny tragedy, the kind that plays out dozens of times a day at minimum across the country, we only had to worry about the small risk of surgery complications. We didn't have to worry about Ken Paxton threatening to charge their doctors with felonies. We didn't have to think, "What if the hospital's legal team doesn't think an ectopic pregnancy - which is never ever viable and must be terminated before it kills our kid - is really that big of a deal?" We didn't have to worry that they live in a state where ob-gyns are fleeing, leaving few experts behind, as has happened in Idaho.

We didn't have to watch our kid vomit up black blood before dying the day after their baby shower the way Neveah's mom did. We didn't have to pray in a waiting room (while doctors took our kid apart until their heart stopped because the doctors waited too long out of fear of anti-choice laws) until a doctor came to tell us we'd have to bury them the way that Amber's mom did. We aren't having to pick up our lives after fully treatable miscarriage-related sepsis took them from us the way that Josseli's husband and daughter must.

I could go on for far, far too long.

Listen. If you are a single-issue non-voter and have already decided that "both parties are the same" or whatever other thing you've told yourself so you can sleep at night, smug and secure, then I can't reach you and I can't help you. But if you genuinely think that your votes don't matter, if you're just suffering from a bout of overwhelm or apathy, if you're too young to remember the 2000 election and can't see that Dobbs is a direct result of that election and every one that's followed, please, I am fucking begging you.

I didn't really talk about this when it happened. I mentioned something briefly, maybe. The posts I've started writing about it are still in my drafts. It was too fresh, too frightening. It's not any less frightening now, honestly - because if this week doesn't end with President Kamala Harris, we're headed for a national abortion ban, at the minimum - but it's not about how fucking frightened I was or how sad and bewildered I was to realize that my kid was going through this crisis in a nation more hostile to them than when I needed a D&C for an abortion at 21, in 1998.

It's about stopping this chapter of this fucking bullshit and at least finding some new fucking bullshit.

Vote, dammit.

Do the other work on Wednesday. Tomorrow, the work is to vote.

[ode2rin]

new boyfriend rin would never ever, under any circumstance, admit that he likes the pet names you call him. well… unless you would stop doing it. (also me pushing the bffs to lovers pipeline)

You must be upset with him, Rin is convinced so. It’s the only logical and sensible explanation behind this unusual behavior. 

And he's going mad about it. Itoshi Rin is going mad any second now if he can't get to the bottom of this, he’s certainly convinced.

Every instinct screamed that your recent behavior was a reaction to something he'd done, but what? Was it the late replies to your text messages? No, you knew he was at practice and you told him you didn’t mind. Was it about the souvenir he brought back home to you from Paris? Sure, you teased him about its impracticality, but nothing that warranted this icy distance.

Or maybe it was something he said now? It must be, right? Everything boils down to his reckless poor choice of words, he supposes.

Slowly, Rin approached you by the couch you’re seated in. With your attention preoccupied by the selection of shows you’re browsing, you settled on looking at him briefly through your peripheral vision. Amused by how he’s slightly tiptoeing around, you let out a half-suppressed laugh to yourself. 

He looks like a cat sometimes, you thought from the sight. And acts like one too. Like a big black cat who would hiss at you if you looked at him funny, or one that would bite your hand if you stopped petting him to sleep. Funny how Rin could be like that too.

The moment Rin settles into the plush comfort of the couch, he gazes at you through lowered lashes, trying to read the play of emotions on your face, if there’s any. 

There’s nothing worth noting, and he doesn’t know if that should assure or bother him.

“Are we… alright?” he drawled.

What the fuck. He did not just sound like that. 

He did not just ask that and sounded like an anxious pathetic wet cat who just had a new home waiting for its owner’s permission over anything (highly specific because he’s a bit dramatic). Just what kind of loser have you reduced him into, really.

Oblivious of the internal turmoil in Rin’s mind, you turn to him, “Hmm? Yeah? Why’d you ask?”

“Nothing,” he grumbled. It’s enough that he already humiliated himself for the way he asked if the two of you were cool— doing it again by exposing himself that he thinks you’re mad plainly because he hadn’t heard you call him a pet name (like you always do) would be mortification in its final form.

“Okay, Rin.”

That’s it. This needs to end. Forget humiliation. He would rather choose to feel pathetic over any day than continue with this charade.

“Are you mad at me?” 

“Why would you think that?” you asked back instantly, shocked and extremely confused because of your boyfriend’s question. You’re literally just looking for a movie the two of you can watch— how is that any indication of being mad at him?

“Just answer the question,” he fumed, impatience settling on the furrow of his brows.

You said in the beginning of your relationship that you didn’t appreciate the silent treatment and guessing games, so don’t you think it’s hypocritical of you to do the same to him? (You’re not, but he just doesn’t know that.)

“I’m not mad at you, Rin.”

“You so are!” 

“I am not! But you, yelling and instigating it are making me right now!” you countered, voice hinted with irritation, “What is your problem, Rin?”

There it is again. Rin rose from the couch to face your sitting form, as if standing would better prove his point. “See? You’re calling me Rin!” he blurted.

“Well, maybe because it’s your name?!”

“Not to you, it’s not!”

A beat of surprised silence. Until your lips grew to such a wide smile that made Rin physically feel his heart melting. 

Yet, in Rin’s true fashion, he’ll never let you know how much air you knock out of him because of your beaming smile. Instead, he’ll say something along the snarky lines of, “Stop smiling like that.”

“Did my big bad grumpy Rinnie here thought we’re on a fight because I hadn’t call him baby?” you ask, purposely stressing out the words to disarm him more.

With a feigned exasperation, he comments, “I forgot how annoying you are.” 

“And I forgot how childish you can get sometimes,” you countered.

“I’m not childish.”

“You don’t mind me calling you Rin then?”

Rin rolled his eyes at you, but you know better than to put meaning to it. He lowered himself onto the couch beside you. With a swift tug, Rin pulled you closer, closing the distance between you effortlessly. His arm found its way around your waist, drawing you snugly against his chest.

“But I don’t see why you need to…” Maybe he could be a bit childish.

“I thought you didn’t like it,” you shyly muttered, drawing shapes in his arm. “The pet names, I mean,” you clarified, sensing the confused look he’s probably giving you behind.

“What the hell are you talking about?” He is baby. He is Rinnie. Fucking hell, that’s so loser of him to even voice it out in his own mind. 

“What? You call me by my name!” you defensively pointed out.

“Doesn’t mean I don’t like your nicknames of me,” he mumbled, the words barely audible.

The pet names— they were more than what they served. It was important to him more than what he would admit. 

They were a secret language, a way you marked him as yours. A reminder that he wasn't just Rin anymore— just your friend.

He was now something more, something special.

A ghost of a smile tugged at the corner of his lips. “Besides… I love your name,” he whispered, his voice velvet against your hair.

It’s tender— no, it makes him tender. Saying your name has been the softest, kindest, and most tender way he’s used his words for. 

Maybe it’s a little pathetic, feeling this undone by a name. But then it’s you. 

It was your name— a name he could whisper with adoration, a name that belonged only to him to claim. 

You melt to his words, leaning deeper into his chest. A contented sigh escaped your lips, the sound swallowed by the warmth of his embrace.

Looking up at him, your eyes held a softness he often found himself getting lost in, “I love your name too, but I also like calling you pet names. Is it okay?”

“Whatever you decide.” He’s yours, either way.

note. this is basically rin being "my nameeee is whatever you decideeeee and i'm just gonna call you mineeee i'm insane but i'm your baby!!!!" yeah that song basically.

[mrsbarnesblog]

caught

masterlist

summary: after accidentally spilling soda on your shirt while hanging out with Sarah, you go to the bathroom to wash it only to be met with her brother. freshly out of the shower.

words count: 1.2k

warnings: making out, half-naked Rafe, suggestive?

The movie played on Sarah’s flat screen, with you both being lazily spread out on her bed, but you couldn’t focus. You were in her room, sipping soda and pretending to actually pay attention to the cheesy rom-com she swore was “life-changing.” But the real distraction was her brother, Rafe, who’d been lurking somewhere in the house all evening.

The tension between you and Rafe had been simmering for months. Stolen glances, fleeting touches, and a kiss that you shared not so long ago were slowly driving you insane. After the night when he kissed you after driving you back to your house and leaving with a soft ‘goodnight’, you couldn’t seem to focus on anything beside that memory.

You hadn’t told anyone—not even Sarah—because you knew how complicated it would get. Sarah’s protective streak would go into overdrive, and your other Pogue friends would probably be either pissed off or completely shoked.

You took a sip of your drink, trying to shake the thoughts from your head, when the ice-cold soda spilled over the rim of the can and onto your shirt.

“Shit.” You muttered, jerking back as the liquid seeped into the fabric.

Sarah burst out laughing, putting the movie on pause and sipping her own soda with a grin. “Oh my god, you’re a disaster. Go clean it up before you ruin my comforter!”

“In your bathroom?”

“Nah, in the one down the hall, I told you that the water doesn't work in mine. And try not to cause any more problems.” She teased, her grin wide.

Rolling your eyes, you grabbed some tissues from her ightstand and headed down the hallway. You pushed open the bathroom door without thinking, too focused on the mess.

“Holy—”

Your words caught in your throat.

Standing there was Rafe. His back was turned to you at first, a bright white towel slung low on his hips, his shoulders, and his muscular back still wet from the shower. He turned at the sound of the door, his brows raising in mild surprise.

“Didn’t know I had company.” He said, his voice lazy, like he wasn’t the one standing half-naked in front of you.

Your heart pounded. You wanted to look away, to leave, but your feet stayed rooted to the spot as your eyes hungrily slid over his perfect body, not missing a single spot and lingering on that perfect v-line. “I didn’t realize anyone was in here.” You managed, your voice shaking slightly.

Rafe’s lips curled into a smirk. “You’re staring.”

“I am not!” You shot back, though your gaze betrayed you as it flicked briefly to his chest.

He took a slow step toward you, and the air in the room seemed to thicken. “You sure about that?”

You swallowed hard, your back hitting the door as you instinctively stepped away. “Rafe, I was just—”

“Just what?” He interrupted, his tone playful but edged with something darker, something dangerous. “Sneaking a peek? It’s okay. I don’t mind if it’s you, you know that.”

“Stop.” You said, but your voice slightly trembled, and Rafe definitely didn’t miss that.

He didn’t. Instead, he leaned a hand against the door beside your head, caging you in. Face too close to you, with water drops still sliding down his damp hair right on the floor. His other hand tugged the towel around his hips a little higher, a deliberate tease, making your eyes shamelessly follow his movements.

“Relax.” He murmured, his voice low, intimate. “It’s just me.”

“Exactly.” You hissed, trying to keep your head clear and not fall for his tricks, even if Rafe’s presence alone made your knees weak and your insides flutter with anticipation. “You’re Sarah’s brother. If she finds out about this—”

“About what?” He tilted his head, his lips dangerously close to yours. “We haven’t even done anything. Yet.”

His words hung in the air, heavy with implication. You could feel the heat radiating off him, the faint scent of his soap intoxicating you. With a low chuckle, he grabbed your arm, pulling you further into the room, closer to the sink, and taking napkins from your hands. He patted your shirt to make it seem like he was actually doing something. You both knew that it was just his little game, his usual teasing demeanor around you. 

You turned your head to look at the foggy mirror above the sink, seeing your reflection and once again noticing how good he looked beside you—so big, strong, and goddamn sexy. 

“We look good together, don’t we?” Rafe murmured beside your ear, his pretending of cleaning your shirt long forgotten when your head snapped into his direction and you saw him just a few centimeters away from your face.

“Rafe, this isn’t—”

Before you could finish, his lips brushed yours, testing. It was gentle at first, like he was daring you to pull away. But you didn’t. Instead, your hands found his tense shoulders, gripping them as he kissed you deeper, his other hand sliding to your waist.

You couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe, as the kiss consumed you. The tension that had been building between you for months exploded all at once, leaving no room for reason. Rafe pushed you back, closer to the sink, then hooked his hands under your thighs and easily lifted you on the counter. He pushed himself in between your legs, and for a second you worried that his not-really-helping-to-hide-anything towel might just simply drop with the way how carelessly he moved in between your legs. 

You panted against his lips, too lost in his touch and scent, never wanting this moment to end. Your body was heating up from Rafe's touch and the way his lips were moving against your, making it wet and messy. You slid your nails from his shoulders down his chest, leaving long stripes and pulling a groan from his mouth onto your lips. Then the door behind you creaked open.

“Babe, why is it taking you so long—”

Sarah’s voice cut off abruptly.

You sprang apart, pushing Rafe away from you, and jumped down from the counter, your heart racing as Sarah stood frozen in the doorway, her eyes wide with horror.

“Oh. My. God.” Her voice was laced with disbelief and disgust. “Ew, Rafe! What were you doing to her?!”

You tried to step forward to explain, but Rafe’s arm slid around your waist, holding you firmly in place. 

“Sarah, I can—”

“Save it.” She snapped, throwing up a hand to stop you. Your stomach dropped thinking that she was actually angry at you. “I knew something was going on, but I didn’t need to see it! And, for the love of everything holy, Rafe, hold your towel!” She moaned in desperation, covering her eyes with one hand.

Behind you, Rafe chuckled, completely unbothered. “What can I say, sis? She’s irresistible.”

“Gross!” Sarah groaned dramatically. “Figure this out somewhere else! And don’t touch anything in here!” She stormed off, muttering under her breath.

You turned to Rafe, mortified. “This is a disaster.”

He grinned, brushing a strand of hair from your face. “Worth it.”

“You’re impossible.” You muttered, though you didn’t pull away as he leaned in again, his lips ghosting over yours gently and tenderly.

“And you’re not saying no.” He whispered, the smirk on his face making your stomach flip.

You knew this wasn’t over—not by a long shot.

[bunny-jpeg]

bulk

capt. john price

cw: smut/pwp, rugby au, rugby player!price, age gap (20s/40s), size difference/kink, rough sex, doggy style, headlock (slight choking), dirty talk & degrading language, breeding kink, is this ticking off boxes for anyone?

this bunny feeds on comments & reblogs! feed the rabbit!

john price was a big man. almost ten years playing professional rugby for the english team, he had bulked up since his early years on the team.  thick muscle and a nice softness over top. he was strong, able to carry all the groceries inside of your shared flat and also get his hulking frame across the field with ball in hand. he was also hairy, patches of hair across his chest down to his belly, didn't mention all the pubic hair between his legs. it obscured a lot of his tattoos that he had gotten over the years, like your name over his heart and his jersey number at his thigh (you knew you'd get too hot if you thought about his thighs too much).  you once told him, with your tongue loose with alcohol that it was the ideal male body. that these ‘dehydrated poor excuses of men’ needed to drink water and eat some carbs. 

price was a man's man. you knew the first time you fucked him, that you'd never ever fuck with those limp dicked boys at your university. you got addicted to the feeling of a real man, one who know exactly how to make your eyes roll back and your tongue hang out, panting heavily like a good bitch you were.

post-game price was your favourite shade of john price. you could feel his electricity while in the passenger seat of the car after the match. when he pulled out of the parking lot, he placed his large hand on your thigh. he played with the edge of your skirt and kept his eyes on the road. you could tell that the wheels in his head were turning. 

  “honey?”

  “been thinkin', love.” he said as his fingers edged up your skirt a little more. like he was a teen boy rather than a forty year old man. he was teasing you, knowing that there would be no way you could both fuck in the back of his car. even it was an expensive vehicle, it would be a tight fit for such a large man and his smaller wife. 

you looked at him and said, “never a good thing for a man to think.” you giggled then yelped when he gripped your thigh suddenly. 

he chuckled a little as he continued to drive, “thinkin' about makin' a baby.” he licked his top lip, “i ain't gettin' any younger, love. and you're almost done school, so i think it's high time we start makin' a family.” his words were honey in your brain. it made you squirm. your much bigger, much older husband was asking for you to make a baby with him. 

  “someone's got baby fever.” you giggled as you placed your hand over his. the air of the car grew warmer, which made price open the window a little.  you squeaked a little bit when he gripped you harder. you felt your heart rate pick up at the feeling of his large hands on you.

he chuckled a little, as he looked at you briefly while at a stop light. he leaned in to kiss you, “of course. part of me's been thinkin' about you walking across the stage at your graduation with my little brat in your belly.” then looked back to start driving again. 

you rubbed your thighs together and felt wet at your core. you couldn't deny your husband, plus you had been subject to baby fever as well. maybe it was your body screaming for your lover. to have a part of him in you. and it wasn't like you two were being the most safe, so accidents could've happened. once back at your flat, you weren't in your clothes for long. 

price had practically ripped your skirt off of you and those large paws he called hands were groping at your plush ass with his lips on your neck.  you could feel his hard cock inside of his white briefs. the pre cum leaked through the fabric as he humped against you. he said in a heated tone, “i need it. i need her.” while made you moan then try to get your bra and panties off. you felt the heat rising in your skin, it was painfully hot for you. it excited you in ways that left you feeling hot all over. 

  “how badly, honey?”

he pulled you right up against him, his clothed cock digging into your abdomen, “more than anythin'. i need ‘er.  i need ’er stuff full. want it to smell like me for months. and if it doesn't, i'll just fill 'er up again.” he slapped your ass and watched you moan with your back arched. he groped the cheek one last time before he took his naked wife to the bedroom. 

his clothes were tossed to the side too, the t-shirt from the rugby league and basketball shorts. once everything was off, you admired your lover for a long moment. seeing all the heft and hair on him. his body that was so strong that he could easily crush you in his bicep or between his thighs. it made your core throb as you got into bed. 

  “nah, nah.” price said as he got onto the bed and grabbed your hips, “i need a deeper angle, somethin' to really show her i love you.” then patted your pussy before he gripped onto your hips once more and turned you onto your stomach. he then angled your hips up then dragged a finger across your achy slit. he chuckled, “there she is.” then leaned in to give your slick cunt a little blow, watching your hole flutter.

  “mmm please, honey.” you arched your back as you felt your husband so close to you. your hulking husband who only hours earlier was running across the field, fighting his way through the other team. his strong legs carried him and you were sitting in the stands with your thighs pressed together with need. 

price replied, “i know, i know. i know you need me” he rubbed his achy cock up against your slit, “always so good for me. knew for the moment i met ya that i wanted ya for the rest of my days.” there was an age gap between you two, but in all fairness, it turned you on even more. knowing that this handsome older man wanted to make sure that his cock was buried in you. 

when he pressed into you, your back arched. you gasped heavily into the covers as he lifted your hips further to get a better angle to sink into you. he laid over top of you, his fuzzy body up against your back. he pressed his weight onto you and kept that heavy cock of his snug inside of you. you groaned loudly, muffled by the pillows under your head. 

  “honey.” you whined as you felt the ache of his cock so deep in you. 

he got one of his hefty arms around your throat, keeping you further pinned against the bed. it wasn't hard enough to choke the lights out of ou. but enough to have pressure that made your head swim. it all felt so good and just just started. your voice was strained when price started to rut against you. his pace wasn't fast like a young stallion, but they were hard. every thrust of his hips were lazily slow but hit the back of your pussy perfectly. his cock had a thickness to it, you had carried rolls of ground beef that weighed less than his cock. not to mention the forest of pubic hair anf his breeder balls. he was a perfect man, body and all. he  took you so well. 

  “she likes me.” he said, “your pretty cunt. i bet you were thinkin' about me on the field. all dirty and roughed up, yeah. bet you wished i fucked ya right in the locker room. let the boys hear how i make my girl feel. bruise that poor pussy of yours.” he said, words hot in your heat. it made sweat settle over you.

you whimpered a little against the covers, “please, john. ah!”

he continued to fuck you, his pace was aggressive and it made you see stars. his arm was still around your throat and you could feel your pulse in your jaw. he left messy kisses on your face, leaving your cheek wet. you whimpered and clenched around his cock which only made him fuck you harder. you were such a good little wife for him. being so good to your man while he wrecked your sweet little hole. 

  "honey! please! you whimpered as you arched your back, but didn't get far due to the impressive size of your lover. you felt pinned under him, his strength. you gasped out another noise as the blunt head of his cock kept bullying your sweet insides. letting it make a huge mess of you, his cock was soaked in your wetness. it dripped down his hairy balls. he loved making his girl feel good. 

he continued to kiss your face, not quite getting your lips. his facial hair brushed against your heated skin and made you over sensitive. his mouth kept running as he kept moving. he felt hot all over, like a heat in his gut as he battered your sweet insides, “my perfect woman.  know how to take me so well. meant to take me. givin' me the privilege to make you a mama. ya like that? showin' up to uni with a little extra next semester. my dutiful little wife. keepin' up her studies while she nursing my babe.” he chuckled as he continued to keep that pussy of yours nice and filled. 

you gasped and moaned into the covers. you could be as loud as you wanted, you were in the safety of your bedroom as price rutted against you. your body was sweaty and your head was swimming. it was so painfully erotic, you felt hot all over. your heart thumped in your chest with a heavy beat as price kept moving against you. 

  “you're lucky you have the ring already. if your classmates saw you with a nice round middle, they might have gotten the wrong idea about you. that you're a dirty slag who can't keep her legs closed.” he chuckled as he licked down the sweat on the side of your neck, “dirty bird. but it's alright, we're married. you're my wife. mrs. jonathan price. about time you got a little one in your belly.” he pressed further into you and it made your head spin. his cock felt like it was pressing into your stomach. 

  “i love you.” you panted.

he finally kissed your lips, or at least the corner as he tightened his hold around your throat, “i love ya too, sweet thing. lettin' my cock bully your sweet insides. made for me, all of me. don't worry, be keepin' that womb warm for a long time. hope ya like 'em big, price boys can be a handful.” he laughed as he kissed the back of your neck. 

he was fully crowded in your space as he worked your sweet pussy. you barely had time to think before you felt the flash of orgasm through your body. it was like being engulfed in a quick heat while your body tensed up and your mind went blank. your pussy drooling on his cock, beckoning him to finish inside of you. 

a good husband always finishes in his wife. 

with a few more heavy thrusts against your limp body price finished inside of you. he pushed his cock all the way inside of you and made sure that your hips were at an angle that made it easier for you to get pregnant. he clutched onto you as he slowed down to a stop. your eyes rolled back a little as he pulled out. the loss of pressure made you whine. you weren't able to form any proper thoughts, your tongue felt heavy in your mouth as your husband rolled you onto your back and kissed you deeply on the lips. 

no need to think, mrs. price. let your rugby playing husband do all the decision making. <3

[thyme-in-a-bubble]

some things are worth it

a/n: so, because i haven’t been able to stop thinking about this guy, especially in this au (literally had multiple dreams about him this past week) i rewatched the longest ride for the yeehaw vibes and this fantasy popped into my head.

summary: “oh, yes you do,” you tilted your head, “you flirt with me all the time, I know you do, I’m not some sheltered little virgin, I know what it looks like when someone likes me!” you felt the truck roll to a stop as you spoke. 

warnings: farmhand!tyler owens x farmer’s daughter!reader, smut, farmer au, bull rider!tyler, takes place before the previous fic in this au, secret relationship, bull riding (except i'm a suropean who has no idea what she's talking about, so apologies for the errors), love confession, secret relationship, kissing, clothed sex, car sex, size kink, manhandling, dry humping, dirty talk, handjob, fingering, thighjob, pussyjob, just the tip, overstimulation, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, creampie, why do i keep writing for this dude in the middle of the night?

word count: 4238

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“Hey,” Tyler cast you a glance as you came bouncing towards where he still worked, tinkering with the tractor that had quit halfway down one of the farm’s golden fields. 

“Hello,” you blinked down at him. A rusty toolbox was planted in the wheat by his kneeling form as he fiddled away at the machinery.

“You need help with something?” he kept on twisting a bolt. 

“Oh, no,” a shy giggle bubbled out of you, “my mom just sent me down here to invite you to stay for dinner tonight. She made a pie for dessert and everything, or well, we did, I helped… it’s rhubarb, if that can help sway you.”

“Rhubarb, eh?” he puffed out a short chuckle. 

“Yeah…”

Briefly glancing back over his shoulder at you and the way your flowy dress caught on the wind, he uttered, “I’d love to, Y/n, but–, uhm… I can’t tonight.”

“Right,” you exhaled, a nod swiftly accompanying your words, “you already have plans, of course…”

“Tell your mamma I’m sorry,” he tried to soften the blow, “next time, yeah?”

“Yeah…” you breathed, and as he returned his attention back to the machine, surely assuming that you’d bid him adieu and saunter back towards the main house, you instead shifted to lean against the tractor, “so… what are you doing tonight?”

Briefly glancing up at you, a soft smirk appeared on his lips as he purred, “you’re awfully nosy.” 

“Just tell me what your plans are,” you rolled your eyes. 

“Bull riding,” he informed you, “I ride on occasion, tonight being one of those times.”

Sucking in a breath, you uttered, “of course you do…”

Halting his tinkering with a chuckle, he pressed, “what’s that supposed to mean?”

“No, you just got adrenalin junky written all over you, so it checks out,” you gestured towards him and he let out a small laugh, retroactively confirming your accusation. As he shifted to look for a different tool, you opened your mouth once more and asked, “can I come?”

“Come what?” his concentrated gaze didn’t meet yours. 

“See you ride.”

Tyler’s eyes then snapped up to find yours, “you wanna come see me ride?” hesitation suddenly washed over his usually confident features, “uhm… I’m not sure your daddy would like that.”

“What? Me being around a bunch of rowdy and probably drunk strangers or going somewhere to see you?”

A warm chuckle then rumbled in his chest as a gentle shake found his head, “you’re trouble…”

“Is that a no?” you tilted your head in hope. 

“No…” he slowly exhaled and met your eye once more, “no it is not.”

You cheered for him at first when his name was announced and you caught a glimpse of him behind the fence, he even found your eyes in the crowd a moment as you clapped in anticipation. But then when it actually began, you stopped breathing entirely. It didn’t matter that he only had to stay on the beast for a few seconds, your heart still wouldn’t start beating again even after his boots were back on the ground and a proud grin stretched his lips. The petrified expression plastered on your features didn’t fade even when he found you afterwards and offered you a ride back home.

“You okay?” his deep timbre ripped you out of your stormy thoughts. 

Twisting your neck to blink over at him behind the wheel of his truck, you hummed, “huh?”

“You’re not usually this quiet,” he pointed out. 

“Oh… I’m just tired, I guess…” you lied, averting your gaze before you then heard yourself utter, “hey, can I ask you something?”

“Shoot,” he held his eyes on the road. 

“How is it that you haven’t been hurt yet doing all of that?”

“Oh no, I have,” a soft chuckle bubbled out of the daredevil, “just not hard enough to stop me from getting back up.” 

A murmur then escaped your lips, just beneath your breath, “either that or you’re just too determined for your own good…”

“Maybe,” he cast you a glance and smirked slightly at the embarrassment that washed over your features at the realisation that he’d heard you, “but then again, determination isn’t always a bad quality to have.”

“It is if it could get you killed.” 

“Oh, how unromantic of you,” he puffed, “I could think of a handful of ways dying would be worth whatever goal you were going for,” his eyes momentarily flickered back to you in the passenger seat beside him. 

Holding his gaze a second before he redirected it back upon the dark road, you felt goosebumps tingle your flesh. 

“Hey Tyler?” you breathed, unsure if you were able to stop the words about to flow out your mouth. 

“Yeah?”

“Are you ever actually gonna do anything?” your vulnerable question was barely audible. 

Not yet catching onto your subtext, he inquired, “about what?” 

Staring over at him, you uttered, “me.”

His eyes immediately fluttered back to find yours, gazing back at you a second before it faltered, “I–… I don’t know what you mean...”

“Oh, yes you do,” you tilted your head, “you flirt with me all the time, I know you do, I’m not some sheltered little virgin, I know what it looks like when someone likes me!” you felt the truck roll to a stop as you spoke. 

His firm grip stayed on the wheel long after the car had halted.

“Y/n, I–…” he tried, though gave up in a soft sigh. 

As he refused to meet your stare, you felt your stomach begin to flip.

“Oh…” you then breathed, blinking down at your hands as they fiddled with the fabric of the sundress that you wore, “unless I apparently don’t, I–… you know what? Forget it, I’m sorry,” your eyes squeezed shut at the mortification, “let’s just go back to the farm and pretend I didn’t say anything…”

Though his grip didn’t shift away from the wheel, didn’t drift down to twist the key and restart the engine. Instead, to your surprise, you saw him in your periphery twist towards you before you felt his hands come up to cup the sides of your face and pluck it out of hiding. 

Pulling you towards him, he then pressed his lips to your own, rendering you reeling to claw your way out of the stunned pit his bold actions had cast you into. 

As one of your palms slowly floated up to rest against the back of one of his, a soft sigh flowed from your form as you melted into his warmth. 

However, before you sank in and lost yourself completely, you felt him withdraw, though still remained close, letting his nose ghost against your own as he exhaled, “this is a really bad idea… we shouldn’t… I can’t afford to lose my job.” 

“Why would you think you’d lose it?” your fingers curled around the back of his hand in a plea to keep his touch glued to your heated cheek. 

“Have you met your father?” he scoffed softly, “I should be grateful if he only fires me and doesn’t outright kill me.” 

“He wouldn’t do that.” 

“You sure about that?” Tyler half-joked before slowly retracting even further. 

Blinking back at him, your lips still tingled from his kiss as you quietly said, “…I thought you were the one who just insisted that some things are worth dying for… I guess you just have to decide whether or not I could be worth that kind of risk…” 

A gentle chuckle then bubbled out of him as he gazed back at you in amazement, “you sound like a fair maiden 500 years ago,” twisting his fingers and tangling them in your own.  

Puffing out a laugh of your own, you defended, “well you started it!” before you felt one of his palms slide to the nape of your neck and tug you back in for another kiss. His lips felt like fire, though the slow smouldering kind that licked you up and ignited your entire soul, “if you don’t think it’s worth it,” you breathlessly uttered against his kiss, “then you should probably stop kissing me like that…” 

As a gentle smirk tugged at his mouth, he answered you not in the form of words, but instead drifted his hands down your frame and scooped you closer, plucking you up and lifting you into his lap, wasting no time at all to claim your lips again.

It didn’t take long after you settled above him, the wheel of the truck poking the lower part of your spine, that the slow peck evolved into something more, something else. Something that had muffled whines crawling up from the depth of your lungs and vibrating against his tongue as yours desperately danced against his own. Something that had you rolling your hips and grinding down against the hardness poking your panties so perfectly beneath the billowy fabric of your dress, the material of which had begun to ride up as Tyler’s wild touch began to wander over the curves of your frame. 

Panting into his mouth, your head started to lull slightly as you rocked down against him, the sensation being nearly too much to stand in the way it was both overwhelming yet also not at all enough. Nevertheless, if he gave you the chance, you’d surely be able to cum just like this if he let you, if he told you to desperately rut against him like some animal in heat, then you would, because that was just the effect he seemed to have on you. He was always able to turn your brain off with but a glance and nearly cause you to faint if he ever flashed you a dazzling smile. 

To say you had it bad was the understatement of the century, but evidently, and thankfully, you weren’t alone in the predicament. 

Snaking a hand down in the non-existent space between your frames, you found the bulky buckle of his belt and began to undo it. 

“Please,” you panted, your tone sounding downright pathetic, “I wanna–, can I touch you?”

And before you could fumble to do it, Tyler didn’t hesitate to undo his jeans and seize your hand, stuffing it into his pants and guiding your fingers to engulf his girth, squeezing them lightly around himself for but a moment before his touch then faded and he left you to your own devices.

“Oh, fuck–,” he growled, his hot breath fanning against your skin, “just like that.”

His cock throbbed in your palm as he kissed you once again and let his wide hands raked down to your ass, kneading your softness as he groaned against your lips.

But he didn’t let your zealous touch stretch out for that long before you heard him crack the door directly to his left open. His grip on your bottom locked securely as he got out of the truck, effortlessly carrying you with him as he made his way around towards the back.

His hold on you stayed fast as he flipped open the bed of the truck and plopped you down on the ledge. A soft giggle bubbled out of you, even as your hands came up to cup his jaw and he slotted himself in between your parted thighs. 

“Shit…” he exhaled as his gaze fluttered down to spot the damp spot decorating your underwear, neatly on show as your sundress had ridden up even further. Your legs dangled slightly off the edge as his touch then reached down to trace the mark of desperation, your bottom lip swiftly getting trapped betwixt your teeth as he rubbed you through the soaked cotton, “guess you really do have a thing for me, sweetheart,” his teasing touch traced your core as the sodden fabric clung to you, “I mean, not that I didn’t already have my suspensions…” 

“You knew?”

“You’re not exactly subtle when it comes to these things,” he chuckled before letting his fingers dip into your waistband, “it’s cute,” he smiled as your eyes fluttered when his digits swept through your folds, scooping back up to your puffy pearl as it buzzed beneath his caress, “I always enjoyed all the random little reasons you came up with just to have an excuse to talk to me.”

“Okay, I know they weren’t always that smooth,” an embarrassed heat sparked in your cheeks, “but it’s a lot harder than you’d think it is.”

“Oh, I know,” he stated casually, grinning at the way your eyes suddenly grew, “what? Did you really think I just happened to always have some work in the barn whenever you went for a ride?” one of his long fingers then eased into you, causing your mouth to fall open in a silent gasp. 

“Wait, seriously?”

“And the time I needed your help learning the system in the tool shed?” another one of his digits found its way inside of your cunt, rendering you a panting mess in his grasp as he leisurely pumped his fingers in and out, stretching you till your pussy sang out for him, “I already knew where everything was.”

The reply that was ready on your tongue swiftly fizzled out and became a forgotten relic as his touch then dissipated and instead floated down to where his jeans were already half undone. Tugging it the rest of the way open, he then stuffed his hand inside and freed his cock. Like a moth to a flame, your eyes couldn’t help but stare, yearning as you watched his cock throb in his tight fist. 

“O-oh, fuck…” the curse flowed out your lungs as your gaze stayed glued, nearly drooling as he suddenly hooked his grasp behind one of your legs and yanked you closer, causing you to tumble back onto your forearms as he manoeuvred your core that much closer to him. Hooking his fingers in the material of your panties, he slid them down your legs and, to your amazement, stuffed them into his pocket. As he then began to tap the hefty weight of his length down against your puffy petals, causing glossy strings of your desire to cling onto him and keep you ethereally attached, your eyes snapped back up to find his and the same whimper left your body once again, “oh, f-fuck…”

Trailing the bulbous tip through your wetness, he teasingly nudged the head against your swollen clit fiercely enough to make your whole frame twitch beneath him. 

“God… you feel so good…” he groaned, staring down at how his fat cock slid through and parted your glistening folds.

“Uh, Tyler–,” you begged hazily, your little hole winking every time he denied it any attention, “p-please–”

“What is it, baby?” he cooed smugly, “you want me to fuck you?”

“Uh-huh,” you nodded foggily, your gaze flickering back down to watch his teasing. 

“You wanna know what my cock feels like inside your pretty little pussy, huh?” his touch then dented your thighs, pressing both of your legs together, enclosing them around his girth and resting your ankles atop one of his broad shoulders. 

“P-please–”

“Is it all you’ve been thinking about?” the softness of your thighs interlocked around him lend him to snap his hips against yours and freely fuck your folds, the underside of him sliding against the seem of your cunt, “what’s been occupying that brilliant brain of yours?” he smirked and you couldn’t help but rock back against his efforts, “because it’s all I’ve been thinking about… how warm you must feel around me, how tight, how fucking wet, how–, fuck!” he then moaned as the way you’d needily tilted your hips up towards him lend his length to accidentally catch your leaking hole and sink in just the slightest bit till he halted his movements.

A shuttering gasp escaped you as well at the sensation as he’d nearly caused tears to roll down your cheeks from how badly you wanted him. 

As he caught your eye, his grip digging into your legs in order to hold on to his last strand of self-control, you panted up at him just as he was about to pull back out, “don’t stop.”

Staring down at you, absorbing your every reaction, he slid the tip back out, but so painstakingly slow that it caused your eyes to roll in your skull. 

“But what if I did though? What if I just stopped, right here, right now? Just drove you back to the farm and left you a needy little puddle just like this?”

“No, don’t stop! Don’t–, I–…” your walls clung around his girth, “please just keep going, it can just be the tip, I just–, don’t stop…”

When just the memory of him kissed your entrance, he gently sank back in and stuffed the bulbous head inside your cunt, “you sure you just want the tip?” he slowly found a pattern, fucking you with just the essence of him, “you sure you don’t wanna feel me so deep inside of you that you won’t be able to walk afterwards? That you’ll still be able to feel what we did for days and days?”

Blinking up at him, your legs trembling against his chest, you breathed, “I–…” till your dizzy head began to rock in a nod. 

“Yeah?” he cocked his head and flashed you a smug smile, “then beg for it.”

“Please fuck me–”

“What was that?”

“F-fuck me–”

“What, like I am right now?” he rolled his hips to just shyly plug you up. 

“No, fuck me for real,” your words felt not your own as they desperately flowed out of you, “fuck me exactly like you’ve been dreaming of since we first met, since you first–, ah!” all of the air was then forced out of your lungs as he slammed the remainder of himself all the way inside, stretching you wide of him and letting the tip, the very part of him that had been driving you mad, kiss the deepest part of you and cause your eyes to flutter shut. 

Your knees bent and crumbled down to curl up beside your chest as he meticulously slid halfway out, only to jam his dick back inside. 

He was practically growling above you, sinful grunts rhythmically flowing from his lips at every one of his frantic thrusts.

“Oh my god,” you cried beneath him as your cunt swiftly began to flutter around him, “you f-feel so–, so–, g-good!”

“Oh yeah?” he smirked and then perceptively asked, “are you gonna cum?” leaning down over you as he kept up his efforts. 

You tried to offer him an answer, but in the blissful abyss he’d cast you down in, you could only nod and squeeze your eyes further shut. 

“Then look at me, baby,” you sensed his fingers curl around your cheek, his reach dipping into your hairline, “be a good girl and look at me when you cum around my cock,” and when you managed to force your hazy eyes to blink back open, he stared back down at you as your cunt clenched down around him so fiercely that you nearly forced his girth out entirely, “there you go, fuck…”

But as your high began to melt away into sensitivity, the blonde farmhand didn’t slow his efforts in the slightest, moaning above you as he also was too close to cum to simply stop.

“Tyler, it’s too–,” you whimpered, your thighs shaking on either side of his frame as the creamy aftermath of your orgasm created a ring around the base of his cock and aided his erratic efforts, lending the entirety of his length to plunge back into you with such ease, even as your walls quaked and squeezed tightly around him. 

“Shh, you can take it,” he uttered hazily, “fucking take it, fucking–, ahh!” his hips then shuttered as he tumbled over the edge and pumped you full of his hot load. 

When Tyler one day had an errand to run, some thingy he had to pick up at a neighbouring farm, you hadn’t really paid attention to that part, you had kinda just stopped listening after the discovery that you would get to tag along simply because the neighbour knew you better than him. 

So, once you were both waiting on the ground for the farmer to return with the item, just a curious look to make the time pass by morphed into the pair of you full-on wandering around and being more nosy than what was good for you. 

Though the snooping halted once you pushed open the door to the westernmost barn and discovered a DIY contraption that tickled Tyler’s nostalgia. 

It was a tin barrel, strung up with ropes and tied to a few beams, though he still had to open his mouth for you to fully understand how it was a homemade training tool for when you first began learning how to ride a bull.

By then, some of the fear you’d felt the night you had watched him ride had overflowed and spilt out, which surely also was the reason behind why he suddenly insisted on you hopping on and letting him try to teach the terror out of you. 

“So, like that?” you asked, one of your hands hovering above the one you clutched around the makeshift loop tied around the uppermost quadrant of the barrel you straddled. 

“Almost, you’re only allowed to hold on with the one hand,” he pointed out and you swiftly adjusted, raising your left hand up high just as you remembered he’d done, “yeah, there you go.”

“So, just eight seconds like this?” your thighs squeezed around the drum as Tyler gently tugged on one of the ropes, only making you sway slightly. 

“Yeah,” he nodded as you glanced over at him, “and then there are other things that can get you more points, like how well you hold your balance and if you’re able to control the bull or not, those kinds of things.” 

He then caught you off guard by pulling on the rope a little rougher and offering you a much harsher and more realistic buck of the barrel, though, to your shock, you reacted to it surprisingly well, clenching your thighs and tightening your grip. 

“Atta girl,” he grinned at the startled chuckle that bubbled out of you, “see? It’s not so scary. You’re a natural.”

“Or maybe you’re just going easy on me…” you pointed out, reflecting on how the love you’d had for riding horses since a very young age surely kicked in and aided you in this skill as well. 

“You’re doing great,” he stated, his stare staying glued to how your body and hips swayed borderline sensually to the rhythm he kept up, “relax, give in to the movements more.” 

“How?”

“Just–…” he sucked in a breath, “pretend that you’re on something else…” a sly smirk then spread across his features before he uttered, “pretend that it’s me you’re riding.”

You then promptly felt heat begin to rise in your cheeks, as it became impossible to keep up your concentration on the task at hand and swiftly heard yourself shriek, “oh my god, Tyler Owens!”

Letting go of the rope, he stepped closer to you and enjoyed your flustered visage, “or better yet, maybe I should just let you hop on and teach you that way,” he let his palm slide up your leg as he came to stand beside you. 

“You’re ridiculous!” you laughed.

Snaking his hands around your waist, he then effortlessly lifted you back down onto the ground and uttered, “you love it.”

As you felt his breath fan across your features, your giggle got caught in your throat and faded away as you gazed back at him. 

“Yeah, I think I might…” you then whispered before he crashed his lips against yours. 

His boots then began to shuffle as yours did as well, letting him shift you till your spine collided with the gate to one of the empty stalls in the dusty barn. Pushing you up against it as he ravenously kissed you, one of his wide palms then swooped up from his fast hold on your waist to caress the soft peak of your boob through the thin layer of your tanktop. 

A breathy moan couldn’t help but slip up from your lungs when his kisses then faded from your lips and began to dance down the side of your neck. 

“Okay, easy there, tiger,” you caught his head in your hands as his sloppy pecks fluttered against your rapid pulse, “we can’t do anything here.”

“Oh yeah?” he cocked an eyebrow as he peeked up at you, “is that a dare?”

“No,” you chuckled, then reminded him of your neighbour, “he’ll be back any second.”

A groan then seeped through his grin before he pushed himself off of you, “fine…” yet still held his burly arms stretched out and fast on either side of you, supporting his weight against the half wall behind you and doing his very best to stop himself from diving back in.

But then you slowly let yourself float back into his space, “hey,” and tilted your chin to catch his gaze, “I said not here, not that we shouldn’t give it a try…”

© 2024 thyme-in-a-bubble

[cashmoneyyysstuff]

coming home

synopsis : you sleep over at katsuki’s place after a night out with your friends. it’s more convenient that way.

an. wrote something rq after seeing the epilogue chapter and pheeewieeeee,,my boyfriend..sigh my boyfriend oh my boyfriend ouggh

cw. nothin really, just a lil casual domesticity w katsu :3, katsuki is fine ASL, reader n katsuki shower together so nakedness they nakey, lmk if there's anything else !!

you’ve noticed katsuki looks very good when he’s the designated driver.

he looks so natural behind the wheel, arms slightly flexed and gripping the steering wheel. his face serene but slightly tensed in concentration, occasionally scoffing to himself whenever someone in front of him drives too slow or cuts him off.

the lamp posts outside reflect nicely on his jaw, his nose and sharp eyes. his whole face really, you can’t stop sneaking glances at him.

he takes the opportunity to place his hand on your thigh once you get to a stop light, giving it a light squeeze. it feels heavy, relaxed, like your thigh just conveniently happens to be there for him to use as an armrest.

another squeeze and katsuki speaks, eyes never leaving the road, the stop light shines the same color as them.

“what’re ya peekin’ at me for, huh ?”

you’ve clearly not been sneaky enough, but you hum anyway. “whaddya mean ?” you ask innocently, your boyfriend scoffs.

a pinch to your thigh and he laughs when you whine. “know you’re not dumb, so quiet actin’ like you are. you got somethin’ on your mind, say it.”

you pout at him, he catches it when he glances at you briefly and smirks, katsuki pats your thigh.

“i was jus’ lookin at you, you look nice.”

he hums at that, smirk growing wider, he nods lightly “nice, huh ?”

“mhm,” you nod “really nice..” you clarify, making a point to look him up and down. he snorts, but his grip on your thigh does a bad job at making him look unbothered.

“know you’re obsessed with me, but you could at least try to act like you’re not.” he teases, hands going back to the steering wheel when the lights on his face shine green. the slight furrow in his brows immediately returns when the car in front of him doesn’t immediately pick up the pace. his fingers drum against the wheel impatiently.

“you got somewhere you need to be or something ?” you giggle.

“yeah, home. in bed.” he quips, always as easily irritable when he was sleepy and not to mention just a bit tipsy. kaminari had managed to get him to drink a little bit more than he usually would but the electric blond got too drunk to notice you’re boyfriend babysitting his drink the entire night. he always insisted on being the driver when it came to his precious baby.

you know he’s never liked to drink much, but you also think katsuki doesn’t so as to not demolish his so called 'reputation'. you and a handful of friends know how needy and emotional he gets when he gets drunk. he acts like everyone is after him when he’s reminded of the fact.

when things had started to die down and everyone slowly but surely started heading home, katsuki leant in near you to ask if you were ready to head out. he was the one that insisted on picking you up from your place since you were on the way to the restaurant, it was more convenient that way he'd said.

but suddenly, he’d suggested you just sleep over at his house for the night. his was closer if he took a shortcut, and it was already getting late. besides, you had left plenty of your stuff at his house. it was just “less of a pain” that way, he’d claimed, and you agreed.

katsuki places his arms behinds your chair to carefully back up into a parking spot. a lucky find, since it was so late at night. but that was hardly something you could focus on when he leant in so close, jaw tight in concentration. he smells just a bit like alcohol mixed with his usual scent.

you’d been together for years now, and yet this still makes your heart hammer, you’d blame it on the slight buzz of alcohol in your system if it wasn’t for the fact that this has always been how you’d reacted before—from the day he’d gotten his license and took you for a test drive to show off.

as the car slows to stop and the engine dies down with a low growl, katsuki turns on the lights and sighs, plopping down onto his seat with a groan, you have to laugh at how he acts like he’d just driven through a desert. he runs a hand through his hair and you notice katsuki looks extremely good when he’s the designated driver.

conveniently, you still have some sleepwear laying around at his house, neatly folded would be a better way to say it, katsuki was always a clean freak, not that it mattered much though since you knew you could just grab one of his shirts and call it a day and he wouldn’t mind at all. you think it shouldn't feel so natural to fish out a pair of your clothes from the drawer, like you'd been living here your entire life.

conveniently, katsuki has a spare toothbrush. he denies that he’d gotten it for you and tries to convince you that his specific toothbrush was sold in a pack of two and he was planning on keeping it for himself.

right, of course.

katsuki’s apartment has always had a cozy feel to you. probably because it was his and not just any old apartment. he just had this warmth to him that made it a home, one you could see yourself sharing with him. it’d be simple, natural. like breathing just to be with him.

you don’t particularly enjoy smelling like alcohol and outside, so you’re happy to sneak off to get to the bathroom first while your boyfriend gets himself a glass of water. until he catches you, of course. he almost chokes with how fast he zooms towards you, quickly wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

“the fuck you think yer doin’ ?”

“katsuki, m’stinky and gross.”

“m’not gonna let you hog the bathroom in my house, get your own.” he stalks closer to you. he’s grown a lot since high school—in height, muscle, confidence and the list could go on, you stand your ground.

“you’re the one who brought me here, mister.” you shove an accusatory finger into his firm chest. he doesn’t budge, but he scowls down at your finger like you’d shot him and digs his finger into your side before you can stop him. you’re ready to cuss him out and fight if you have to, but to your surprise he sighs. looking off to the side.

“fine, we’ll just both go then.” he huffs, ears slightly tinted pink in the light of his living room.

oh.

“w—oh.” you breathe, immediately his eyes zip to you. his eyebrows furrow harder and his lip pulls up to hide the embarrassment growing on his face. “what ? s’that a problem or something ?”

“no, no !” you try to tone down the surprise in your voice, leaning against the wall to try and act casual. “i mean, no it’s not but—like, are you sure ?” and you feel like you’re sixteen again asking him if it was okay to kiss him.

“it’s more convenient that way. uses up less hot water so, it works out for me.”

“ah, right. bills.” you try to jest, managing to only huff awkwardly. your eyes flit to him and the floor and he scoffs after a minute. slowly, gently, he grabs your wrist. slowly, gently going towards your hand and intertwining his fingers with yours.

“stop being dumb and weird.” he scolds, before pulling you inside the bathroom with him.

you realise, really realise, with your back against his chest, how warm your boyfriend is.

he's always run hot and it came in especially handy during the harsher winter months. but now it's not cold, it can't possibly be when it feels like he's damn near running a fever behind you.

hot water be damned, he'd be able to heat up an ice cold bath all by himself you think. perhaps he'd always been this scorching, but it's the extra proximity that's making you realise it.

despite scolding you earlier for making it weird, katsuki is incredibly stiff. he'd been stiff when he swiftly turned around the moment he decide the water was an alright temperature, mumbling something about telling him when you got in. he'd kept his eyes aimed diligently at the ceiling of his bathroom and almost slipped when he tried to reach for the corner of his bathtub. you tried to spare him the embarrassment of giggling at his mumbled, butt naked cursing.

he'd scooched in behind you and it took him about a minute to let himself relax enough to let your skin touch. despite it being more convenient for him like he'd claimed, his hands stayed glued to the edge of the bathtub. the grip he has seems a little much, you can see his knuckles almost turning white, but his arms strain and bulge that way and you won't say that's not nice to look at.

you decide to make the move. you sigh, feigning relaxation despite your heart pounding, only intensifying when katsuki holds his breath for a second behind you. you make yourself more comfortable, leaning against him more and woah, he's scalding. you almost want to pull back, but you feel yourself leaning a bit further as you realise he's moved back too. his back now touching the edge of the tub. he hisses when the undoubtebly cold edge hits his skin.

slowly, slowly, the grip on the tub relaxes, and he lets himself dip around. fingertips slowly floating around in the water until they came to run up your arms. your shoulders, and he sighs then, really sighs like he's comfortable. and then all is good in the world again.

he's somewhat used to it now, and it's normal, almost second nature how he leans his head forward to land in the crook of your shoulder. he nuzzles into it more when you lean to the side to give him more space. he shoves his head in deeper, nudging his head to yours harder because he knows the tips of his hair tickle. and of course, ever the nuiscance, does it again and again until it has you giggling softly in the quiet of his bathroom.

and you think you could honestly get used to it.

"'ve been thinkin'.." you hear him mumble against your skin. you let out a hum when he doesn't continue. "'bout what ?" you ask sleepily.

"..bout you moving in, with me." he pauses, you pause. and it's quiet. again.

"o-oh yeah ? where did that come from ?" you try to keep your voice as steady as possible. your heart races and you feel it so hard you think it ripples in the water. you feel katsuki lift his head up lightly in confusion, but his eyes still won't move towards you.

"ya had something else planned 'r somethin' ?"

"no, no ! i'd wanna, i'm super down !" you're a bit louder than you mean to be, voice a bit breathier and higher in pitch and it echoes against the walls of the bathroom. katsuki's fingers twitch where they rest on the edge of the bathtub again and he sighs.

"i just didn't expect you to um-pop the question.." you trail off, you immediately mentally smack yourself for the wordage you used, because now you can't stop thinking about marrying him. you wished you could sink further into the water but now you're a little too aware of the hot skin pressed behind you.

katsuki doesn't look at you, he leans back until he's staring at the ceiling. you can tell he's trying to make himself more comfortable with the way he stiffens in an effort not to move like he usually would when he'd pretend to be unbothered. it tells you that maybe, just maybe, he was thinking about the same thing as you.

he sighs, and he finally looks at you then. voice poised and calm, but his eyebrows furrow and there's a slight pink on his cheeks.

"just..more convenient that way. you're already here all the time anyway." his rough voice cracks just slightly, the hints of doubt peeking through him. after letting out a breath you didn't know you were holding, you hum again.

"y-yeah--yeah.." you manage. katsuki clicks his tongue behind you.

"look, if you don't wanna-" your boyfriend gulps back his next words when you lean back against him once more. stiffening, before finally calming down again.

"i do, i wanna move in with you. truly." you lean your head back enough to comfortably look at him so he can see how serious you are. it seems to stun him a bit, eyes widened. his lips tremble like he wants to speak but can't. and since he can't, he composes himself (tries to at least) and nods, mostly to himself rather than you.

"good..good.." he mutters. you nod as well, turning back and closing your eyes to try and calm your beating heart, to fully relax.

"mhm, good."

and it's quiet again. only the sound of soft breaths and beating hearts remain. you can almost feel his heartbeat pressed against your back.

"how long have you been thinking about it--me moving in and all ?"

he hums from behind you, now that he's calmed down, his shoulders relax and he gets just a bit bolder, rubbing a thumb against the skin of your upper arm.

"does it matter ?"

"yes."

he grumbles, obviously embarrassed. " a while." is what he settles with "figured it was about time."

about time, huh ? you nod, the room overtaken by silence yet again. a comfortable, warm one you could get used to.

"'sides, i know how much you miss me when you leave."

you scoff, rolling your eyes. he's ruined the moment like his big mouth usually does.

"oh please, you're the one that keeps calling me back the moment i do leave." you shoot back, it's katsuki's turn to scoff now.

" yeah, sure. just admit you're obsessed with me, babe." he sasses.

"oh, babe you forgot your sweater at my place so come back and get it. what? no, i can't bring it back you forgot it so you come get iiit !" you put on a nasally deep voice, waving your arms around in the water dramatically.

"s-shut up, moron !" katsuki stutters, his abrupt movements of disbelief causing the water to ripple and spill over from the tub. "i don't sound like that--"

"oh babe, now that you're here i actually just remembered you forgot to gimme my 5th goodbye kiss on the way out--"

"yn.." he warns lowly.

oh yn, if i could, i'd spent my entire life makin' out with you cus i wuv you sooo much, bleh bleh muah muah-- !" your crude little kissy noises are interrupted by your boyfriend furiously flicking water into your face. you squeal loudly, shrieking trying to block the jet stream with your arms. you laugh loudly as he continues attacking you from all sides and you're sure by now half of the water he's used was most definitely on the floor, but you really couldn't care less.

and frankly, you could get used to this.

taglist.

@napbatata @andysdrafts @queenpiranhadon @jastoo46 @cecelia77

@katszumi @m-inluv @monchurie @the-hangry-otter @starlostlaiba

@moonshuul @erenstitanweave @katsus-mistress @dondeh-zedonutqueen @liluvtojineteyam

@aspiringwriter1111 @sugurusmoon @redvelvetstan1

@niktwazny303 @nemisimp @kit-katsukii @alphasage @milktea-academia

[nochepsicodelica]

It's two in the morning and you're knocking on your own front door after a night out with your friends. Your mind has been occupied by static, not allowing you to remember that you have a key to let yourself in, so you stand there alone, waiting to be let in. You plant your hand on the wall to keep yourself balanced, looking left and right to see if anybody or any car is looking at you as they pass by.

Just as you're about to knock, again, the door opens and you flinch, your other hand flying to the wall to remain steady on your feet. You look up at your man with warped vision, blinking a little to try and clear your view of him. You can't contain your laughter when you see the stern look on Toji's face, his green eyes laced with concern you can't process in this state.

"What the fuck..." Toji mutters, to himself. What kind of friends would just drop you off without making sure that you get inside your house, safely? It's late. Who knows how long you had been standing there before you knocked. Anyone could have snatched you away.

Toji will catch you. You know he'll catch you if you just lean forward into him, like a backwards trust fall, so you set the plan in motion. You drag your feet and move your hands along the wall until you're in the safe zone, and then you just fall forward.

"Woah, hey." He's quick to hold you up against him, to prevent you from sliding down his body and to the floor. "Hey, you good? Talk to me. Can you walk?" Toji doesn't receive much of a response from you. Just quiet little giggles and incoherent mumbles. He sighs and picks you up, draping you over his shoulder. The door is shut and locked, before he makes his way to the bedroom. The light is already on, because he was awake the entire time, awaiting your arrival. Toji sets you down on the bed and briefly sits on the edge, by your feet.

"You didn't answer my calls, and I texted you like twenty times." He lifts your feet and takes their place, before setting them down on his lap so that you are comfortable. His fingers make haste of undoing the buckles on your high heels and he sets the shoes down, placing them under the bed.

You simply hum in response, not entirely sure of how you got to the room. The light is so bright and it's irritating your eyes, making it hard for you to hold them open.

"Told you to let me know if you needed me to pick you up, dummy." Toji wraps his hands around one of your ankles, his fingers kneading with little pressure, incase the area is tender.

"N-Nooo, i'm... here. Here," you babble.

It's so frustrating to be unable to get a full explanation out of you, right now. Your responses are borderline illogical and it's not doing Toji any good. He feels like his heart is about to beat out of his chest. He can't calm down, after he spent the last few hours wondering why you stopped responding to him and why you weren't answering his calls. To open the door and instantly get a whiff of your night out was enraging, not because you got extremely intoxicated, but because there was no one looking out for you by the end of your time out.

Toji understands that there is no point in digging into this, now. You can't even walk or see straight, so he settles for making simple conversation that you can easily digest.

"Did your phone die or something?"

You shake your head, side to side, and his blood boils all over again. This was supposed to be an easy conversation, but he was just so damn worried. His entire body is tense with concern.

"Fuck." He sighs, nodding slightly at your response. "Yeah, okay."

A few seconds of silence go by and Toji thinks you may have fallen asleep, but then you speak up, out of nowhere, again.

"Took lots of pictures..." you mumble, eyes closed as you dig into your pocket for your phone. Once it's in your hand, you toss it on the bed for Toji to grab. He puts your massage on hold and picks up your phone, unlocking it and going to your photo gallery, where immediately, he sees previews of the pictures of you and those so called "friends" who abandoned you on your doorstep. The only reason he cares for those group photos is because you're smiling widely, seemingly laughing, and overall looking extremely happy in every one of them, but as much as he loves the look on your face in those, he loves the pictures you took of yourself and the ones your friends took of you, more. Some you had already sent to him, others he hadn't seen until then, so he sent those pictures to himself.

Toji turns your phone off and sets it aside, before grabbing ahold of your other ankle and repeating the same treatment that he did for the first one.

"There was... ugh..." you sweep away some strands of hair that almost went into your mouth. "A man. I dropped my phone and he- and he got too close behind me when I bent down to pick it up." You nod, with your eyes as wide as they can be in this state, like you're trying to prove that you aren't lying by looking him straight in his eyes.

"That's fucking disgusting, mama." Toji's eyebrows furrow, discomfort written all over his face with this new information you revealed. He squeezes your ankle a little tighter, his mind beginning to cloud with thoughts of never letting you go out without him again, but before he even thinks of spilling these thoughts to you, he asks you the most important questions.

"Are you okay? Did he touch you?"

"Mm-mm, no." You shake your head as quickly as you can without getting dizzy. "Saw his legs behind my legs and I got up and gave him this look..." You furrow your brows and lid your eyes, a gaze that doesn't seem intimidating or warning enough, now, after so many drinks. Your face quickly relaxes after and you roll your eyes with a tired sigh. "Yup, that was the face I made and then I walked away," you say, your attitude more upbeat.

"Did he leave you alone?" Toji asks, hoping nothing more happened. If there is more, he'll have you describe this man to the best of your ability, and he will hunt him down until he can positively assure that he's no longer part of the world's population.

"Yeahhh, don't know where he went." You hum like you're trying to remember, as if you even have that knowledge. You walked away and didn't turn back around, something that finally concludes your brief inability to recall. "Think he got lost." You giggle.

"Good. I'm glad," Toji says. You hum in agreement, and your eyes fall shut, gracing you with two seconds of sleep before your head nods and you wake up, again. Your bashful smile evolves into a short laugh, one that has Toji smiling at how precious you are. "You tired, mama?"

You nod and blink slowly in response, fighting the urge to shut your eyes for longer. Your lips curl into a lazy smile, when Toji presses a kiss to your ankle, before he moves your feet and sets them on the bed so he can get up.

"Let's get you ready for bed, then."

[gay-dorito-dust]

Hiii Author :D this is actually my first request, but could I ask for homocipher (especially my bb MR Crawling 🥺) when you kiss them for the first time pls and thank u 🙏

Mr Crawling

Sweet boy is giggling, blushing and kicking his long ass legs after staying unsettlingly silent for five minutes.

He’s on cloud nine the moment you pressed your warm lips against his as sweetly as you did. He didn’t know what that thing you were doing exactly, kissing was a foreign concept to him but all he knows is that he wants you to do it again and again for eternity.

Kissing this cutie is a little sloppy when he’s trying to imitate you, but you can’t get mad at him when he’s smiling and giggling in happiness that he got to reciprocate the happiness you give him.

Seriously this man has become ten times more clingy as he’s smothering you in hugs while chirping and purring in your ear, nuzzling his face against your own.

Mr crawling will double, no triple you in affection and you’re legally not allowed to move until he’s done kissing every inch of your face and neck. He just wants to make you happy and if kissing is one way to do it then Mr Crawling will do it continuously and it’ll never get old.

He will honour the kiss forever and ever and ever.

Mr Scarletella

Captain of the S.S Delusional over here.

You’re not helping his obsession with you. Not one bit after kissing him lightly as now he fully thinks this is you accepting his love and affection, letting him inside your heart as your one and only.

So have fun trying to get him off your back when he’s muttering shit like ‘mine. Love. Mine. Love. Mine. Love’ under his breath as he towers over you as you realised that this man was near inescapable.

And I mean he’s inescapable the moment you gave him that innocent little kiss on his lips. He’s smiling to himself as he runs his fingertips over his lips, still feeling your own there as his mind creates scenarios where your sat in his lap, kissing him to your hearts content and confessing your love for him.

So if you thought he was bad before, he’s fucking worse now and there’s little chance of escaping him. So good luck with all that, you will need it.

He won’t do anything to his lips in fear he’d wipe your kiss away, he’s savouring it and has the memory framed in his head as his most precious moment.

Mr Silvair

Kissing is a concept he’s not privy to and so he’s seeing this as a potential experiment he could delve into deeper.

All for science is the motto for this dude I’m afraid. Mr Silvair doesn’t feel much outside of that and an occasional warmth that he pushes aside frequently.

He’ll probably ask you to do it again, not because he wanted you to but because he’s curious as to how each and every kiss feels, believing that each one has a different meaning behind them. He’d might even indulge in what sort of stimuli could trigger you to made such a bold move on your own accord.

So to him it wouldn’t mean as much as it would for you unfortunately but that’s not going to stop him from asking for more kisses, and or creating scenarios where kissing him was the ultimate goal, and all for science experimentation.

Totally not to satiate the need to feel the warmth those kisses gave him if only briefly. 👀👀

Mr Gap

This dude doesn’t want a kiss, he wants your heart and not in the romantic sense.

You kissing him felt weird and he didn’t know whether to like it or hate it. So he mostly stays indifferent.

Seriously he’ll experience the kiss, scrunch his face up and still ask for your heart. Affection doesn’t exist within this dude at the slightest, and if it did it’s not by very much at all.

So kissing him wouldn’t exactly do much and he wouldn’t bother to reciprocate either, he’s still as fuck too so you might as well be kissing a stone statue.

Seriously. I’m not joking. I wish I was but I’m not.

[dxxdhood]

drains me slowly

pairing: wade wilson x gn!reader

summary: deadpool finally invites you, the coworker he has a massive crush on, over, which means the two of you end up doing more than just watching a movie.

tags: smut (18+), sub!wade wilson, dom!reader, pain kink, use of superpowers to fuel a pain kink, light masochism, teasing, gentle dom, hand job, scratching, body worship

wc: 3.3k

a/n: fic inspired by the new deadpool movie coming out!!! also, title is from love me dead by ludo.

No surprise that Wade wasn’t exactly anyone’s favorite– that goes for among the heroes he’s worked with and throughout his life in general. He’s – to put it in the kindest way anyone’s ever told him – fucking annoying. Oh, he’s more than aware that he’s a little too out-of-pocket, abrasive, impulsive– a nightmare to interact with, really. And those were just the recent comments made by the closest thing he has to coworkers! The shit he heard from people growing up was leagues worse. 

Look, having a rough start in life isn’t uncommon and he’s sure as hell not gonna get the tiny violin out for himself and throw his own little pity party, but he’s grown enough since his healing factor got beat out of him to acknowledge that he’s had it tough over the years.

He’s still going, though! Yeah, he may not always be the best at doing his laundry quick enough to get any clean clothes to wear, or at stopping his room from becoming cluttered with too many half-empty water bottles, but he’s still making it by, day by day.

But, well, it’s still really hard to constantly put himself out there, get assigned – or infinitely more likely, just shove himself into – whatever jobs or missions he feels like taking on when everyone treats him like Jar Jar Binks.

That was until you came along. So, obviously you’re crazy hot – he’s gotta get that out of the way first – but more than that, you were confident. Competent, too, and those rarely coincide in Wade’s experience. You mostly worked on call, joining the occasional mission, battle, or investigation because your mutant powers came in handy often, but you also still kept up with your day job. Honestly, Wade thinks the reason why you weren’t always present in fights was to stop the other mutants from being out of a job. Your ability to slowly deteriorate surrounding biological tissue, while horrifying and a pain in the ass to control – your words – was basically winning on easy mode.

But no, you were adamant about keeping your involvement with the X-Men infrequent– only joining when your presence was absolutely necessary. Apparently nonstop high stress situations aren't good for your mental health– who knew?

And he wants to pretend he became obsessed with you because of all those things, and of course they helped, but really, you had him at hello. Or well, you bothering to say hello and actually talk to him in the first place, to ask him questions about his life in moments of downtime where usually he’d be left with an unenthusiastic audience instead of a warm-hearted listener who actually laughed at his jokes.

So, of course, he has to go and fuck it up.

…

“So, glad that’s over, huh?” Wade says through a smile, the whites of his mask squeezing as his cheeks rise. “Speaking of over, you wanna come?”

“Over?” you shake your head a little, flashing your teeth as you try and comprehend him. “Right after we took on a whole crime ring?”

“Well, what a better time to unwind, am I right?”

“Oh?” you raise your eyebrows. “We’re unwinding?”

It’s small, but you swear Wade ups his talking speed, “Well, yeah, you know. Watch a movie, order in, show you my Pokemon cards, the works.”

You hum, pretending to consider it, “Depends, you got a holo Charizard?”

And now, for sure, he exhales his relief. “You insult me.”

The two of you enter his apartment not long after you’re dismissed from the mission, and Wade briefly excuses himself to change out of his suit. Making yourself at home, you take a seat on the couch and glance across his living room. His apartment is surprisingly nice. The kitchen and living room are one large, open space with a sleek, modern design. Also, you’d assume someone as chaotic as Wade would keep their house in a messier state, or hell, at least a little dusty, but the living room is spotless. Maybe he cleaned recently? What, was he planning on inviting someone over?

Snorting as you shake your head, a small click from across the hall catches your attention.

You’ve only seen Wade on the job, so naturally he’s always been wearing his red suit, but for some reason, you never stopped to picture him wearing civilian clothes. Actually, now that you’re seeing him in a sweatshirt and sweatpants – awfully warm for this weather – you’re struggling to reconcile the image of him you had in your head with the person right in front of you.

Well, at least until Wade brings up a fist to cover his mouth, illustrating his nervousness, and the tension fizzles out. Only Wade has body language that cartoonishly exaggerated.

“Nice sweats, green looks good on you.”

Wade pauses for a moment, registering your words before he giggles softly, arm falling to his side, “I’ve been thinking about changing the color of my suit. You know, hiding all the blood is great and all, but sometimes I gotta wonder – could this thing be more flattering?”

He walks over with a spring in his step before sitting by your side. Cutely, he wraps you up in the larger blanket first before settling the smaller, throw blanket over himself. You try your hardest not to show your confusion outwardly, but seeing Wade up close now has you questioning his outfit all the more.

He’s a bit tall, so the sweatpants don’t go all the way down to his ankles, but Wade’s wearing calf socks, as if he specifically were trying to avoid them being uncovered. Also, his hoodie’s easily a size or two larger, which makes it the perfect thing to wear to lounge around and watch a movie in, but also, the sleeves cover his entire hand sans his fingers. From the little you can see of them, they look puckered in scars.

But obviously Wade’s hands are scarred– he’s a mercenary. He’s handled all sorts of weapons and been in hundreds of fights over the years. You weren’t expecting his skin to be baby-smooth. 

What’s interesting to you is why he’d go through all the trouble to hide it.

Also, yeah, the most obvious pointers were that the hood of his sweatshirt is up even though you two are indoors in his own home and – how could you forget this one – his Deadpool mask is still on.

Was he just uncomfortable with sharing his identity in general or was he specifically trying to shove distance between the two of you? Whatever, if he doesn’t want to take his mask off with you, he doesn’t have to. You feel a distinct pang in your chest, but you try not to let it color how you respond to him. He’s more than in the right to only share what he feels most comfortable with.

Wade’s been fiddling with the remote while you’ve been – hopefully – subtly looking him over, and the screen finally changes from a streaming service page to the opening of the movie.

“We’re watching The Princess Bride? I didn’t take you for a romantic.”

He bats his eyes – at least, you think he does, given the mask– and speaks in a sweet voice “Why, me? Oh please, I know romance. I’m not going to invite a lovely, gorgeous, incredible person over and force them to watch Die Hard on the first–”

His back straightens out like he’s been electrocuted before he forcibly relaxes his posture to finish his thought.

“Hang-out.”

Okay, you want to go easy on him, especially because he seems so tense, but you can’t just let that one slide. You close the small distance remaining between the two of you, causing your entire side to press against his. Even through his sweatshirt, you can feel how warm he is.

“Mmm, just a hang out?” you mumble, sliding your head onto his shoulder. You’ve done this before, either for comedic effect or just in an attempt to push his buttons the same way he always tries to push yours – which, despite his best efforts, always ends up endearing him to you instead of bothering you – but never in a context like this.

He inhales sharply, and you count the seconds until he finally lets himself release it. Sometimes, you think he takes his healing factor for granted.

Turning his head to peer down at you, Wade considers you for a moment, keeping his face and body language deceptively neutral. You try your hardest to keep your eyes focused on the movie and your body loose and comfortable.

“You want this to be a date?” he says, flat.

“Why, thank you for asking, dear sir,” you copy his sweet voice from earlier before returning to your normal. “Yes, Wade, I like you.”

“I–” he starts, but the words get caught on their way out. His fingers bury themselves in the material of his sweatpants, and the movement draws your attention to them again. Shades of blotchy red and pink curve all across his skin.

Wade doesn’t say anything, which is concerning enough on its own, but following your confession, you feel like he’s more than out of his element. 

“That’s why you invited me over, right?” you try and help him out. “You feel the same, too.”

And then, feeling bold, you turn your head to face his still mask-covered head and kiss him lightly on the cheek. Instantly, you see fireworks go off inside him, because Wade hurriedly shuts the TV off and runs off to close the blinds. There’s barely enough light in the room now to make out shapes, but apparently Wade doesn’t take any issue because he peels his mask back and kisses you on the lips.

His lips are textured, and your intuition flashes quietly in the back of your mind, but for right now, you focus on how energetic he is. If his body is warm, his mouth feels like it’s on fire. He’s constantly moving, trying to experience all of you as fast as possible. 

It’s making your face heat up, how quickly he demands your complete attention and how relentless he is in grabbing it. Wade bites your bottom lip, causing you to gasp into him, and he uses the opportunity to explore across your own teeth and tongue. After a few more seconds, you break away, needing the space to breathe.

“Holy shit,” you whisper, voice rough.

“You’re telling me,” Wade coughs out. “We could’ve been doing that this whole time?”

“Well, all you had to do was ask.”

And although you can’t see him, which you know is the point, you understand something in him has shifted. He gets up from the couch, takes you by the hand, and leads you towards his room. His pace is so quick, you barely comprehend his actions until you’re both standing right in front of his bed.

“Is this okay?” he asks, quiet. You don’t think you’ve ever heard him stifle the amount of words he let loose before.

“Yes, of course it is. But Wade, we have to turn on at least a lamp or something in here.”

“We do?”

“Yeah,” you pause to give him a second to think. “I can’t see you at all like this.”

“What if – and you're just going to have to trust me on this one – you’d prefer it this way,” Wade’s voice is light, but it feels like it’s cracking at the edges.

“And why’s that?”

Not like you’d be able to see, but the anxiety radiating off of him makes him sound wide-eyed, “Huh? Oh, I– uh…”

“Look, if you’re worried about how I’m going to react to you having a bunch of scars– don’t. I don’t mind,” the sound of fabric rustling in front of you makes you think he just flinched. “I figured it out. You’re not sneaky.”

“You say that, but…”

“Wade, I don’t care. And I mean that kindly! Really, it doesn’t bother me.”

Wade starts pacing in front of you, nearly tripping on the leg of the bedpost, “Look, I appreciate the whole hero act you got going on here – really fits you good, you should totally quit your day job – but you don’t have to force yourself, I–”

“Wade, you either confront your insecurities head on or I’m not doing this with you. I told you what I think, the only person who’s going to worry about how you look here is you. We either have sex with a light on or not at all, okay?”

No one speaks for a few seconds once you finish saying your piece, and you cringe, realizing how forceful you must have come off. You’re about to speak up again to apologize when you hear a shudder-filled exhale from a few feet away.

“Jesus H. Christ,” he groans. “You’re so hot when you're putting people in their place.”

Your lips curl into a shaky smile, “Yeah, what else do you think is hot?”

And you can practically hear the gears turning in his head from here.

…

It’s actually happening. No fucking way he didn’t dream this up. But you were pretty adamant about him getting his head in the game in order for you guys to actually get down and dirty, so for you, he tries to keep his train of thought as focused as possible–  a big ask.

“Bossing anyone – everyone, especially me – around. You using your abilities–” you reach over and find Wade’s hand before running your fingers up his arm. “Shit, umm, using your abilities in general, but, umm, I really like when I’m there.”

“Oh?” you giggle. “When you get to watch, or?”

“When I get to feel.”

Your hand moves over to the nape of his neck, reaching under his hood and mask, to rub at his rough skin. Wade’s nerves light on fire as he waits for you to respond– for some reason, it never feels like your words come out fast enough.

“You got a thing for pain, Wilson?”

He chuckles, “You’d be surprised.”

“Okay, but are you sure? I can try, but it might not be all that good for you.”

“Don’t worry,” he thinks back to all those times he had a hard on while the two of you were fighting together. “It’ll be great for me.”

You hum, “Alright, then, but you tell me to stop the second you don’t like something, okay?”

“Aye, aye, captain,” he salutes, though you probably can’t see it. “And, same goes for you.”

“What a gentleman, letting me destroy him and giving me an out.”

He’s blushing something furious and he’s never been more grateful for the dark, “Anything for you.”

Those are the last words he whispers before he begins undressing. He knows you probably meant for him to strip with the light on, but he’s really not so sure he could stomach being looked at like a bug under a microscope. The attention, while electrifying, was already starting to get to him, so he lets himself stay in his comfort zone a little longer. As a treat. 

Once his sweats are off, he hesitantly peels off his mask before slipping into bed, keeping most of his body under the covers. After shutting his eyes, he clicks the lamplight on.

You’re not saying anything. That’s– a sign? A good one, a bad one, Wade doesn’t know. He’s trying so hard to keep his breathing steady, but he can feel his body start shaking all on its own.

You join him on the bed, kneeling next to him, before your warm breath falls across his cheeks as you kiss his forehead. Only then does he open his eyes, and you reward him by cupping his cheek in your hand.

“There,” you say. “Wasn’t so hard, was it?”

Wade gets the strong urge to snort, and so he does, but your eyes narrow. There’s a soft scratching at the back of his skull as you snake your hand over, and quickly you dig your nails in slightly. Wade has to bite his tongue to keep the noise in.

“I’m sorry, is that funny to you?”

“No!” he whispers sharply as you bring your hand down to scratch along the line of his neck.

“Good, seems like you’re learning.”

You kiss him, teeth clacking together at first before Wade melts into it. Your hand is still slowly exploring his body, running along the line of his shoulder and towards his upper arm. When you reach his bicep, you very obviously squeeze the muscle there, and you let out a pleased sigh as you begin groping in earnest.

He wants to turn to hide his face in the pillow, not sure how to react to all the positive attention and appreciation, but you catch him trying to turn away, and you kiss him deeper.

While one hand begins to explore his pecs and abs, your other hand scratches down his v-line, softly caressing the skin of his inner thighs before moving around to squeeze his ass.

Wade rewards you with a small whine, and you carefully trail a finger down his dick. You move in to whisper in his ear, “You’re so hot, I’m not forgiving you for hiding for so long.”

Trying to stifle the embarrassing moan that he knows will come out, he bites down on his lip hard, but you take the hand not teasing his cock to gently pry his lip away.

“From now on, I get to hear you, okay?” you say and Wade nods rapidly.

You take the moment you wrap your hand around the base of his cock, and after giving him a second to ready himself, you ask, “I’m going to use it now. Tell me if you want to stop.”

“Okay–” he responds before he feels the sweet sensation of you jerking him off coupled with your power. It’s a humming, dull feeling of pain resting in the background– almost like the sensation of being choked except it’s affecting his entire body. Wade feels like there’s a weight pinning down each of his limbs and it’s so freeing– so relaxing.

He sighs and turns his head to the side, letting out a deep moan when you up the pace of your hand and bring the other to fondle his balls.

“How is it?” you ask, sweat dripping down your brow at trying to control your ability. Sure, it’s  powerful and at times pretty horrifying, but Wade always loved how he was essentially immune. At the same rate you could destroy the flesh around you, he could heal his own right back. Just knowing that made him feel good, somehow, like he was made perfectly for you.

“It’s good– so good, I–” he nearly shouts, forgetting about the neighbors.

“Yeah, baby? What do you need?”

At hearing the pet name, he straight up whines as he tries to bury his hands in the sheets instead of his own thighs. 

“Not sure, umm, a little more–”

And he doesn’t know which god he has to thank for putting you on this planet, but he’s willing to pay them all a visit. You read him like he’s not some mess, some walking disaster nobody bothers paying attention to, and you give him what you know he needs.

From the base of his chin, you drag your hand in a deep scratch across his neck, chest, and stomach, your eyes watching the pink lines blend in with his scarred skin. It’s a flashing pain, sharp like being scalded and it feels so good mixed with the blunt feel of being under your power.

“I’m gonna–” he says, and of course, you seem to already know. He cums with a deep grunt, rutting his hips into your fist before he thrusts his head forward to kiss you again.

As soon as he comes down, he pulls away only slightly, just so he can say what he’s been wanting to say since he met you.

“Thank–”

You cut him off with another kiss, because sometimes, he really does need to shut up. 

[hyunebunx]

⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 ⏖ ’ when you aren't dating but aren't just friends either (hyung line)

⁺ 𖹭 . genre: fluff, a little bit of angst and suggestive themes!!

⁺ 𖹭 . warnings: some are talking about sex, alcohol and being intoxicated (not the boys). i think that's all idk. anyways!! if you're under 16 pls don't read this.

⁺ 𖹭 . a/n: 2022 deni kinda ate with these ngl, so of course i had to rewrite it <3 these used to be my favorite hcs i ever wrote, so i truly hope you enjoy <3. happy channie day!! maknae line here!

𝜗୧ chan 𝜗୧

With Christopher here, things are complicated because he avoids labeling what you guys have like the plague. His work always comes first so that makes him shy away from commitment.

That doesn’t mean he doesn’t care about you. He does, a lot, and that kind of scares him, especially when he randomly starts feeling possessive over you when he knows he has no right to.

No matter how much he tries to deny it, the feelings are there and he’s always reminded of them when he catches himself treating you so much different from the other girls in his life.

You were humming in your seat, head bopping from side to side to the rhythm of the tunes on the radio. A happy bubblegum pop song, one that didn’t fail to lift your already high spirits and put you into the right mood for the long trip ahead.

“You look happy.”

Your head snaps in his direction, a big smile stretching across your face as his melodious laugh fills your ears. Chan wasn’t looking at you, giving all of his attention to the road as he drove behind Minho’s car yet his words made you giddier, just happy to be here in his presence.

“I am!” You nod, still swaying in your seat. “Thank you for taking me along, I haven’t been to the beach in ages.”

Chan hums with a smile before reaching down and gently grabbing your hand, eyes still focused on the road as he raises it to his to plant multiple, gentle kisses on your skin.

“Of course, baby.” He says, giving a final kiss to your knuckles before resting your hands next to the gear stick. “I wouldn’t even have gone on this trip without you.”

The sweet gesture along with his words made your heart skip several beats, fooling your mind into believing he actually felt the same, the scene making you resemble an actual couple. Everybody was convinced you were already dating, since affection and those small touches came so naturally in your relationship, with no awkwardness or second guessing. You and Chan have fallen into this domestic routine where you do almost everything together despite not even being together. Yet, you loved being this close to him, glued at the hip and so enamored with one another but sometimes, you wished things were clearer, to actually know what you were and weren’t. How he viewed and felt about this relationship of yours.

“Something on your mind?”

Blinking your worries away, your heart swelled in your chest when you felt him squeeze your hand lightly, a sign of the silent support and care he never shied away from providing.

Shaking your head, the smile on your face returns, albeit a bit forced. “I was just thinking about how much you must enjoy my company, that’s all.”

That got a laugh out of him, grinning from ear to ear as he continued to drive with one hand, honey orbs briefly meeting yours in the rearview mirror.

“Is that so? You really think that, huh?”

You nod, intertwining your fingers while keeping your eyes straight ahead, softly caressing his hand. “Of course. What kind of person would miss going on a long-awaited trip with his best friends just for lil’ old me?”

Then, you turn to face him, mustering enough courage to appear confident and charming with your next words.

“You must really like me, huh, Christopher?”

His hold on you tightened, almost as if he was afraid you were going to disappear if he let go. You saw him nod his head and when the car came to a stop at a red light soon after, he finally took his eyes off the road to face you fully. His gaze was soft as he watched you like you held the sun in your bare hands and for the first time, Chan hesitated for a brief moment before he leaned over the console to press his lips against yours.

The kiss was so unexpected that you gasped at the contact, giving him the perfect opportunity to slip his tongue past your lips and deepen your dance, change it all together, except he didn’t. He didn’t take things further, hand still holding yours as your lips did all the talking, moving against you in such a soft and tender way it almost brought you to tears, never experiencing such meaningful intimacy with him before.

When he pulled away, his eyes were still serious but slightly blown by your previous actions. In any other circumstances, you’d say it was lust but right now it felt like something more, an emotion that only grew and blossomed the more time you spent together. Something appropriate for your deep connection, beyond carnal desires and sighs of ecstasy.  

“I really, really do like you, Y/n. Please never forget that.”

𝜗୧ minho 𝜗୧

The jealousy is strong with this one. I mean, that’s to be expected when your relationship status is so vague and ambiguous that you guys never talk about it.

However, he’s the softest when he’s with you. It’s like all of his worries and anxieties disappear when you’re by his side.

Secretly a romantic.

“Who is she?”

Minho looks up from his place on the floor at the sound of your voice, one eyebrow rising as a sign for you to go on while he continues to stretch. When you don’t, he lets a small sigh escape him before taking matters into his own hands.

“Elaborate.”

“Who is she?” you try again, arms crossed over your chest while a frown forms across your features. “The girl that was just here. The one you were happily laughing along with.”

Oh, that girl. Minho tries to hide his smirk once he hears what you have to say, being able to sense your jealousy without even having to spare you another glance. Truth be told, he knew exactly who you were talking about from the moment you opened your mouth yet, the part of him that wanted to see you get all worked up took over and made him play dumb.

Quickly composing himself before you notice, he shrugs. “Just some girl.”

He could feel you getting annoyed by now, his nonchalance and dismissal almost making your blood boil. “Lee Minho – “

“Why do you care?”

His voice is lower, usual doe and gentle stare narrowing slightly as he looks you dead in the eyes. Abandoning his stretching, Minho then stands up and takes a stance similar to yours, towering over you. He was so close, you could feel his hot breath on your face, his scent and him as a whole not only invading all of your senses but also your personal space. Not that you minded, you never did or ever will.

Not backing down, you took a step forward as well, closing in on him while maintaining eye contact. Eye contact always made Minho weak in the knees so you never wasted any opportunity of making him a little hot under the collar. Just as expected, Minho’s body reacts almost immediately, big hands settling on your hips before pulling you flush against him. The intimacy and gentleness of the action have your initial anger vanishing, the only thing on your mind now being him and him alone.

Deciding to play along, your arms naturally gravitate around his shoulders. “Am I not allowed to care about the type of people you surround yourself with, darling?” You smile yet he sees right through you, your words filled with sarcasm and something else Minho can’t quite put his finger on. Despite your affection, this was still bothering you.

But Minho doesn’t comment on it. “Like I said, she isn’t anyone important. You shouldn’t worry your pretty little head about her.” He breaths out, wet lips hovering over yours as he speaks. And before you know it, he’s kissing you, lips coming together in a passionate kiss only Minho himself can provide.

But even as you stand there, pinned to the cold mirror while he gently nips and sucks at your neck, you can’t help but worry about it all. You weren’t his girlfriend so you were fully aware that you had no right to question him about who he was or wasn’t hanging out with. But the fact that he wasn’t willing to tell you, to reassure you like he always did made your heart ache in your chest most painfully.

𝜗୧ changbin 𝜗୧

Thinks he’s being oh so subtle about what you two have going on. Newsflash, all of the boys already know there’s more than meets the eye between you.

Very protective but not in an overbearing way.

Actually really likes you but isn’t sure if you feel the same so he doesn’t act on those feelings.

Changbin was watching you from afar, a smile playing on his lips at the sight of you animatedly talking to some classmates. You haven’t noticed him yet and his heart was almost jumping out of his chest waiting for you to do so, trying to play it cool as he leaned against his car with his arms crossed. He might’ve looked calm and composed on the outside but on the inside, he was freaking out.

You two haven’t seen each other in a bit because of his busy schedule and now that he’s got some free time, one of the first things on his bucket list was to surprise you by dropping by to your school. Changbin had a whole afternoon planned out just for the two of you, one that involved all of your favorite activities and food. A part of him was really confused by his own behavior, especially since you never had ‘the talk’ regarding your relationship but he just couldn’t help it. The urge to spoil and shower you with gifts and his undivided attention was stronger than his doubts were, as usual.

He never realized he was a romantic until he met you, and fell head over heels for your charming personality.

Breaking away from your group of friends, your eyes finally met his and immediately widened at the sight of him, just like his smile does. Your face lit up like a Christmas tree and next thing Changbin knew, you broke into a sprint in his direction, your obvious excitement making the man laugh loudly in delight. You looked so adorable running to him like that, he couldn’t wait to get you in his arms and never let go.

You were almost there when suddenly some dude decided to stop you right in your tracks, blocking your path to get your undivided attention. You were visibly taken aback as you came to an abrupt stop, your face falling as the person started talking. This made Changbin’s mood do a whole 180, wasting no time in starting to make his way over, keen on giving this dude a piece of his mind. Your smile returned as he approached, looking at him over the man’s shoulder as everything he was saying was completely lost on you, Changbin’s magnetic field pulling you in without fail.

“Sorry, uhh…” You paused, trying to recall his name before shaking your head. “My boyfriend is here so I really have to go.”

At the mention of the word ‘boyfriend’, the guy turned around to face Changbin so fast, it had him wondering how he didn’t get whiplash. Looking at him, Binnie glared as he tried to look as intimating as possible while the butterflies in his stomach were currently causing a riot over you calling him ‘your boyfriend’. Which wasn’t a hard task since he already looked as intimating as they come because of his well-built body, his mere presence causing the other man to hunch slightly.

“Okay, I-I will call you later then, Y/n.”

Changbin raised a single eyebrow, crossing his arms once again. “Me, Y/n's boyfriend, wouldn’t like that, so don’t you even dare.” He glared menacingly, almost like daring the guy to protest in some way. “Now, scram.”

That’s all the warnings the guy needed to flee, leaving without as much of a goodbye while Changbin followed him with his eyes until he was out of sight. Your sweet giggles reached his ears, melting those sharp edges before he felt you throw yourself into his arms, your own going around his neck to pull him even closer. And just like that, the butterflies were back and making him feel like a high schooler around his first ever crush. He returned the hug in an instant, strong arms wrapping around your waist before picking you up and spinning you around, the sound of your delight getting rid of all of his annoyance and stress, the best cure ever invented.

“Hello, boyfriend.” You placed several pecks on his lips when the world stopped spinning, lightly kicking your feet that were still off the ground. “I missed you.”

He wasn’t your boyfriend yet, but after today, maybe he could finally be. 

𝜗୧ hyunjin 𝜗୧

The one that’s truly wrapped around your finger even if he would never admit it out loud. He’s bewitched, mesmerized by every little thing you do and say, his eyes full of adoration as he follows your every movement, almost like a puppy.

Randomly goes: “you can sit here” and here ends up being between his legs in a room full of 7 other men.

Can never take his eyes off of you.

Everyone’s laughter was bouncing off the walls as another dare was swung around, one that had someone pull out their phone and booty call a random number while trying but failing miserably to sound sober. Speaking off, everything seemed to be funny for your intoxicated friends at this hour. From knocking over each other’s drinks to randomly kissing, they were having the time of their lives and that brought the biggest smile to your lips.

“Hyunjin.” One of your girlfriends began, getting both yours and the man that was currently sitting behind you on the floor’s attention. She had a mischievous glint in her glassy eyes, one that had you a bit worried.

“What’s your type?” she finally asked before taking another sip of her drink, smirk growing bigger by the second as she fluttered her eyelashes innocently, twirling a piece of her hair around a manicured finger. “Like I’m sure you don’t just fuck randos, they all have to fit some type of criteria, don’t they?”

“What gets Hwang Hyunjin hard?” Another one chimed in, scooting closer in interest.

And there it was. You couldn’t help but roll your eyes as all the girls started giggling, clearly very amused and intrigued by the whole situation. Granted they were drunk but since you weren’t, it was a bit harder to hide your annoyance. You and Hyunjin weren’t a couple, heck you didn’t even know what you were but he was latched onto you from behind while you sat in between his legs, strong arms hugging you to his chest. Did they have to ask something like this while you were right here?

Soon, almost all of your friends seemed to be interested in his answer, especially since Hyunjin was known for his notorious reputation with both girls and boys around campus. You finally felt him react when Changbin, who was an even louder drunk, pointed out the look on your face and got everyone staring at you two. His arms tightened slightly around you, pulling your body even closer like he was trying to merge souls while his head came to rest on your shoulder in such a way that prevented the others from seeing his lips moving.

“What do you think, baby?” He whispered, hot breath making goosebumps appear all over your skin and awakening something in you. All his attention was on you now, ignoring everything and everyone around him like he wasn’t just asked a question. As expected, their interest wasn’t piqued for long since Hyunjin didn’t react nor answer, talking among themselves once again, with some hollering and wolf whistling when they noticed him gently moving your hair out of the way to start planting wet, open-mouthed kisses on the side of your throat.

Your breath picked up at that, one of your hands moving to rest over his and intertwining your fingers while his free one sneaked under your shirt to caress the bare skin.

With one last kiss on the back of your neck, Hyunjin spoke again, his next words making your head spin and almost whimper. “Should I start telling them about how sweet your voice sounds while moaning my name? To list all of those things you do that drive me insane daily or should I just let this be our little secret?”

[screampied]

✧ ⁺˳ cw. fem! reader, unprotected, established relationship, mıssionary, praise, brēeding, petnames, mdni.

nanami who always finds himself in your sheets and between your legs after a long day at work.

“think i want a baby, ‘ken.”

and he took those six simple words personally. nanami’s giving you slow, languid strokes, rolling his hips against yours. he groans at your nails clawing all down his back. as you briefly meet his gaze, you’re met with the most kindest, fawn eyes. all you saw in them were nothing but pools of love with a sprinkle of lust. “oh,” he huskily grunts, hearing the sloshing wet stretch deep into your cunt. he’s stunned for a bit before going deep into imagination. the thought of making your cute tummy all swollen and rounded, it makes him gnaw on his lip like candy.

“my love,” he swallows thickly, a familiar lump forming into the back of his throat. nanami leans into you, his rhythm growing more and more sloppy. you’re jerking back, an ankle of yours sliding down the red lines of his back and he grunts. “c- careful now, might give you more than just one.” and he could have came right then and there—all from relishing in your beauty. he’s never laid his eyes upon anything more pretty.

your knees then get righteously shoved up to your chest. soft, browned eyes flicker at the valley between your breasts before glancing back toward your shimmery spit-slicked lips. you moan, tossing your arms over his shoulders. “i missed my girls,” he groans, stuffing his face between your chest for a moment. your breath immensely hitches at the feeling up him licking a single stripe, still deeply plummeting such inches in and out of your weeping cunt. “they missed me too,” he purrs in a raspy coo, speaking to your tits, and that’s when he latches his plump lips against your perky nipple for a short second. “m-mh.”

the air felt hot — humid, feverish even with each breeze that passes. as warm, kinetic bodies clash against each other at individual hyper strokes, he pries himself off of you. nanami’s jaw tightens so much from your soddened grip that it almost aches. “sweetheart,” he hisses, peering his eyes down to see the milky white ring already coating around his base. it’s probably been hours, hours of you prettily sprawled out for him with your legs open. docile, tawny irises lovingly gaze into you as a thumb of yours strum down his neatly ruffled undercut. “f- fuck, i want you so bad. missed my girl. missed my pussy.”

“she’s missed you too ‘ken,” you pull him into a hot kiss, tasting the mint that lingers on his breath. and as his thrusts grew more sloppy, you whine, feeling his jutting cock kiss against your most sweetest spots. your heart flutters, slithering its way around his waist in a secure lock. “fuck me kento, d- don’t stop, pleaseee.”

“never gonna stop for you, my love,” he huffs, chest heaving in and out. the more he stares at you, the more he falls in love.

through glossed eyes that shimmer with such infatuation—he’s taking in your beauty, your fervor.

nanami loves more than anything to just gawk at you, watching as your eyes droop, your neck crane, and even the way your brows crease into a furrow due to such rapturing pleasure. only he could make you feel this way—you and him both knew that. nobody knew your body like the back of their hand except nanami. your body was his personal canvas, he’s always loved to decorate it and paint it with various, chaste kisses.

to him, you were art. he’s hitting you deep, blurbs and blurbs of whimpers dragging out of your throat until it sounds like inaudible meaningless babbles. so pretty,

repeatedly, the base of his cock perfectly hits against there, leaving you with your jaw hanging open and your entire body being stuck into a limited dimwitted state. he fucks you silly every time, you whimper as a lightening pulse from his cock twitches inside of you, plugging you full.

over and over and over,

nanami blows into your mouth, and you hear a throaty chuckle before he presses yet another wet kiss against your lips. “wanna see you nice ‘n plump s-so bad. gonna give you triplets, my sweet.” and you’re just stupefied, barely a single thought was stored up into your empty, vacant brain. nanami sucks against your bottom lip, still steadily rocking his way into your sloppy cunt. you feel the juncture of his hips mercilessly thrust its way into you raw and you gasp. “right . . here?”

pleasure overtakes you so good that you barely even noticed he was talking to you. you’re too busy moaning your head off and a soft smile pierces against both sides of his lips. a few faint dimples poke against his skin before he grabs your chin. “sweetheaaaart, ‘m talkin’ to you, hey,” and once your eyes meet his mid-thrust, his heart swarms up with love and desire. “there we go. atta girl, yeah. ‘s this spot? this feel good?”

“y- yes,” you whimper, nodding eagerly. he was so big and thick, the prolongated stretch had you drooling. nanami glances at your hand. gingerly bringing it toward his lips, he kisses it, giving it a tender mwah. “kento, ‘m gonna cum a-again.”

“i know, pretty,” he groans, grabbing onto your hand. giving it a firm squeeze. you do the same, interlocking a bundle of fingers with his. his grip was gentle and warm, frantic heartbeat haphazardly picking up speed the more you get a feel of his familiar touch once more. nanami’s always slow with you,

he doesn’t wanna rush this — he hadn’t dreamt of it. already feeling you tighten around him, he invades a strip of your sensitive neck with a plethora of passionate, amorous kisses. “you always taste the same,” and you moan, sobbing cunt gripping down on him so good that it whimpers out a pitchy squelch of its own. his lolled twitching tongue licks against the edge of your shoulder blade once more and your back arches in ecstasy.

he’s never been more in love, with your body arching up backwards at his sweet, sweet hits, you were so close to becoming undone. every pivot of nanami’s hips snap you back to reality before you whine out a needy mewl, tangled digits combing through his unkempt, blond strands. “kento, fuuuuck, ‘m gonna cum.”

“together, my l-love,” his voice falters, and his adam’s apple starts to bob. each delicious thrust of his collapses into your body in such mirroring sync. the rapid, frenzied movements were in complete harmony and beads of running sweat sticks against each skin. nanami gruffly groans, preparing to get milked again, you always did it so so well. squeezing his eyes shut, both broad hands cling onto your hips as he grinds against your core. “c’mon, make a mess on me. ‘m gonna clean you up, promise. give it to me, please.”

your moans were so harmonic, each sound that left your throat coming out to be more elongated. with his cock pounding in and out, he starts to slow his pace down — seeping his teeth into your tender collarbone softly. sharp tips of your fingernails continue to paw at the beefiness of his biceps before within seconds, it happens.

with your lips forming into a lewd circular shape, you’re creaming all down his thickset of a shaft. “kentoooo,” you whine out, feeling your soaked walls clench all around him. he holds you tight, allowing you to form into a puddled mess before he shortly follows. nanami groans, tossing his head forward before a translucent ring bubbles around his heavy base. it comes out in oozing spurts, hot cum pouring into your womb raw.

“ngh, always have me bein’ such a mess for you,” he grunts, pretty arched brows curling up together. nanami sucks at the air, witnessing as your legs grow numb, gluing against his skin. “ah, ‘s gonna be a lot. hold still ‘n take it. take it like a good girl,” and he leans into you, cupping the curvature of your face. “make me proud, baby. thaaaaat’s it. eyes on me, eyes on kento.”

nanami feels a wave of drowsiness dawn over him as he stills himself inside of you. he’s panting right with you, a thumb hooks a strand of hair back toward your face. a school of butterflies flutter inside of you as he’s still dumping a sticky load of velvety thin ropes into your greedy pussy. it’s deeply spewing down alongside of your thighs as you wrap your arms around his neck. “i- i love you ‘ken.”

“i love you more,” he whispers, leaning in to pepper kisses all over your face. he hums at the tiny pout that’s displayed on your lips. you’re underneath him, succumbing into such an orgasmic state that you could barely keep your lashes open. nanami’s not moving anymore but he’s still buried balls deep. a big clammy hand ghosts over your tummy before he nips at your chin. “you’re gonna be such a pretty mommy,” and with a final kiss, you feel him slowly lifting up your leg, tossing it over his shoulder.

and as you gasp, watching him switch positions— nanami then pulls out a wedding ring, sliding it over your bare finger. “but you’d be an even prettier wife.”

[pretentious-blonde]

insecurity

pairing: steve harrington x reader

summary: after you become closer to a certain metalhead, steve can't stop the insecurities that stem from his previous relationship. when it all becomes too much, you are left to deal with his outrage.

warnings: arguments, angst, steve is mean, panic attack (fluff ending ofc)

a/n: idk, this was supposed to be short and sweet but i got carried away!

The bell above you jingled as you entered Family Video, stopping briefly to glance around the shop for a certain brown-haired boy who had managed to capture your heart a little over six months ago. It didn’t take long to spot him, a grin plastered on his face as he stood behind the counter. With crossed arms, leaning his hip against the wooden edge, nodding along half-heartedly to whatever Robin was saying. She sat cross-legged on the desk, arms moving wildly as she spoke, her face lighting up as she noticed your presence. 

“There she is! Finally, I can’t tolerate this man for much longer,” she says with a huff, kicking her feet off the counter and pointing at Steve who was clearly not as into the conversation as she was. His attention hasn’t strayed from you since you came in. “Your turn.”

“Lucky for you,” he begins, briefly glancing in Robin’s direction, pointing back towards her as you rounded the corner to emphasise his point. “She tolerates me for hours.”

He pressed a soft kiss to your cheek as you leaned into him, whispering a hello before smirking in Robin’s direction. “I’d say it’s more than tolerating,” you add.

Steve has a smug look on his face at your comment, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and pulling you closer. You can feel the warmth he radiates through his jumper, his fingers finding your jaw to tilt your head up to meet his eyes. 

The moment between you both was swiftly interrupted by a loud gagging noise. “Okay. I’m third-wheeling. Gross.” Robin stated as she hopped off her makeshift throne with a huff.

You roll your eyes, still trapped in Steve’s embrace, not ready to let go just yet. “You sure you’re not just jealous Rob?”

“Pssh,” she scoffs as she throws a VHS tape from one hand to the other. “Sure. If I wanted someone who can’t alphabetise for shit, then yes. I’d be all over Harrington.”

“Ouch,” Steve pipes up from your side. “Also I don’t want to hear anything from you after what you did to the returns bin. It’s chaos.”

“Organised chaos, maybe,” she replies as she points the VHS directly at Steve. “My system is far superior.”

You glance over at your boyfriend, a look of disbelief at her previous statement, he was about to interrupt but Robin quickly changed the subject. “I thought you were supposed to come by here yesterday? Or was I making that up?”

“Oh, I was. But Dustin asked me last minute if I was free,” you tell her. “He introduced to to his friend—Eddie? I think he mentioned him before. We all hung out for a bit.”

The words slip out of your mouth naturally and a small smile graces your lips as you remember the day before. What you don’t notice is the way Steve stiffens beside you. His hand, which was fitted perfectly against your shoulder, tensed slightly. Unbeknownst to you. 

“Eddie?” He asks, forcing his voice to stay light and cheerful. He wouldn’t dream of dampening your bright mood. Not when you had gone out of your way to drop by and see him. Although, that fact did nothing to stop the unsettling feeling in his stomach. 

You nod enthusiastically as he pays you his full attention, admiring the way your hair bounces along with your movements. It briefly distracts him from overthinking, that is, until you open your pretty mouth again. “Yeah, you know Dustin—he’s always finding new people to drag into his D&D world. Eddie’s super into it, too.”

His jaw tightens, his smile falters and he hopes to god you don’t notice, masking it with a casual nod. Eddie Munson, he thinks and cannot help the bitterness he feels. Of course, he remembers the metal head from high school, Dustin had been mentioning him more too. He never cared about popularity, the social hierarchy. Just… did his own thing. No matter what others thought of him. 

Steve was all Ralph Lauren polos and Members Only jackets, tender smiles and sickly sweet kisses. Eddie was band patches and ripped jeans, unapologetic and confident. Not like Steve at all. The total opposite in fact.

He glances at you in the corner of his eye, then quickly back to the counter, the knot in his chest growing tighter. He knew, he knew, he was reading too much into it, but he just couldn’t stop himself. Especially after Nancy broke his heart. It was only when he met you that it began to heal again. 

Is that what you’re into? The carefree, rebellious type? While Steve has spent his entire high school career trying to fit the mold, Eddie has smashed it. And what did he have to show for it? A washed-up ex-popular kid working at a video store? Not a lot, clearly.

“So… what did you guys get up to?” He asks, fiddling with the pen on the desk, trying to act as indifferent as possible. 

“Not much. Just hung out, talked about D&D for a bit,” you reply with a shrug. “Dustin thinks he is some kind of genius when it comes to that game.”

Robin chimes into the conversation, unaware of the tension radiating from the brunette next to you. “Well, if you’re into D&D Eddie is the go-to around here,” she tells you. “It sounds like you’re his next recruit.”

Steve’s laugh is forced this time, and you notice it, a small frown appearing on your face. He curses himself internally, quickly leaning over to place a kiss on the side of your head, a reassuring gesture for the both of you. “Sounds fun,” he says softly. “Maybe next time I could tag along.”

Just so he can see what Eddie’s intentions are, see if he is testing his luck with you. He has already lost one girlfriend to another guy so it seemed like a normal thing to investigate. Nothing weird about that… right?

You laugh and shake your head, patting his broad chest playfully. “Trust me, Steve, you don’t have to do that. D&D is certainly not your thing.”

He deflated at your statement, even though it was definitely true. He lets out a chuckle to ease the insecurity he is feeling. “Yeah, I’ll leave the nerd stuff to Dustin and Eddie,” he says, trying to play it off as nothing serious. 

You see the sad look that penetrates his features, mistaking it for him just feeling left out. You grab his hand and give it a small squeeze. “Am I still alright to come over to your tomorrow? Evening sound good?” You ask, hoping he could see how much you still wanted to spend time with him, despite your new friend.

“Of course, angel,” he replies, completely melting at the soft tone of your voice, looking up at him with those gentle eyes of yours. You could probably make him do anything with that expression on your face. He can’t resist stealing another kiss from you when you look like that. You smile up at him as he reluctantly pulls away. 

“Okay, great!” You wave as you make your way to the door, bell ringing as you open it. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

He watches you leave until you are no longer visible, the tightness in his stomach easing ever so slightly at the thought of having you all to himself tomorrow. Just him. His girl. 

As soon as he turns around, Robin is smirking directly at him, arms crossed across her chest. “So, what’s the deal with Eddie?” She asks, her tone teasing. “You gonna join Hellfire now?”

Steve rolls his eyes at her, already dreading the incoming round of quips. “Hell no, I’m not touching that stuff.”

“Aw, c’mon Steve. I think you would make a great dungeon master,” she doesn’t even bother trying to hide the laugh that is bubbling in her throat. “You certainly are dramatic enough for it, you know? ‘King Steve’ and all that.”

“Yeah right,” he mutters, growing more irritated by the second. He usually had all the time in the world for her jabs, but currently? The tapes in his hands were the most interesting thing in the world to him as he tried to brush her off. “I’m retired from the whole ‘king’ thing, remember?”

She grins as she leans across the wooden counter, standing on her tiptoes to get closer to him. “True, true. But at least we know Eddie is pretty chill now, we don’t just have to take Dustin’s word for it.”

There it is, that name again—Eddie. He says nothing as he grabs more tapes off the side. Not that it served any purpose, just anything to keep his hands busy and mind preoccupied. 

“I mean, I have never really spoken to him,” she continued as she paced the shop floor, stopping only to place another VHS in her ‘newly organised’ returns section. “But he’s got that whole ‘rebel without a cause’ thing going on. You know? It’s pretty admirable.”

Yeah, I know, Steve thinks sourly. That’s precisely the problem. He does know. The free spirit who never once cared about fitting in, or pleasing anyone, and now here he was—Dustin’s new best friend and the subsequent new guy in your life. 

“Yeah, well,” Steve forces out another fake laugh, just as badly hidden as the first. “Good for him.”

Robin turns to face him directly, noticing the strain in his voice. “You’re not… jealous, are you?”

Her question catches him off guard, fumbling with the tape in his hand and nearly dropping it. “What? No. Why would I be jealous of Eddie Munson?”

“Alright, alright, no need to get defensive,” she holds her hands up in surrender, her eyes still trained on him. “It’s just… I don’t know. You’re acting weird?”

He didn’t respond right away, focusing on a blank point between two VHS tapes in front of him, he repeated the question in his mind. Weird? He wasn’t being weird. Was he?

Shrugging his shoulders casually, he glances at the clock, suddenly wishing for the small arms to go faster so he could see you again—just the two of you. No Eddie. No distractions. Just you and him alone. Maybe then he could stop himself from spiralling. He couldn’t get the thought out of his mind for the rest of his shift, not when he had seen this story play out once before, with him ending up on the losing side. 

Laughter filled the cramped space of Eddie’s trailer. Dustin had invited you over here a few hours earlier and now here you were, doubled over on his couch, clutching at your sides as Eddie continues his ridiculous story. “And then—then he turned around and slammed right into the closet door! Swear to God, I thought he was gonna be out cold!” He finished, completely in stitches at his own tale. 

Dustin was practically rolling on the floor at this point, teeth on full show as he tried to get his words out cohesively. “How did you find these people, Eddie?!” He gasped between his giggles. 

You were wiping away the tears from your eyes, way past the point of caring if your makeup was smudged. As you came back to reality, you glanced over at the clock, freezing completely as you registered the time. 

“Oh, shit,” you muttered, your stomach dropping. “Guys, I gotta go. Like—like right now.”

You immediately leapt up off the worn-out couch, grabbing your jacket in a hurry and shoving your feet into your shoes. You had about ten minutes to be at Steve’s front door and had completely lost track of the time. “He’s gonna kill me,” you mumbled under your breath as you reached for your bag. Even though it wasn’t true, it was more likely he would be moping around the living room, glancing at the front door every couple of minutes awaiting your arrival. Just sad that he couldn’t get to spend more time with you. Steve didn’t get angry with you. Ever. 

Eddie raised an eyebrow, his form still draped across the couch. “What’s the rush princess? Hot date with Steve?”

You briefly glanced over in his direction, looking increasingly flustered. “Well, yeah,” you admitted. “I was supposed to be there, uh, now.”

Before you could bolt out the door, you heard a groan coming from across the room. “Don’t sweat it, I’ll drive you.” Eddie rose from his seat and grabbed his keys from the coffee table in front of him, twirling them around his finger. “No way I’m letting you bike all the way there.”

You blinked in surprise at his offer. “Really? Are you sure? You honestly don’t have to—“

Eddie waved his hand in your direction, ignoring your concern. “It’s no problem. Besides, I’m not gonna be responsible for you showing up at Steve’s all sweaty and out of breath. The guy would kill me,” He shot a teasing grin in your direction as he headed to the door, holding it open as both you and Dustin ducked under his arm, heading straight for his van. 

The journey was easy, with Eddie being a surprisingly safe driver, music as loud as his personality. In between the heavy guitar riffs that thumped through the radio, he turned to you with a mischievous expression. “So… you and Steve, huh?”

You felt the blush rise to your cheeks at his comment, not getting a chance to respond as he continued. “I just meant you’re good together, you know? I never really saw him as the ‘settle down with a girlfriend’ type. But hey, they say love changes a person.”

You drew your gaze away from the passing trees, unable to hold the smile that had spread across your face. “Yeah, he’s—he’s really great,” you admitted softly. You could barely put into words how great he was without gushing, so that small line would have to do for now. If Eddie only saw how Steve treated you, both in public and private, all his questions would certainly be answered. 

Steve may not have had the same chaotic energy as Eddie or Dustin, but that didn’t matter one bit. Steve was… solid. Reliable. He made you feel safe. Made you feel cherished. 

The long-haired boy next to you shrugged, his tone still kind. “Hey, if Dustin likes him, well that’s saying something. The kid is picky when it comes to his friends.”

Dustin, now making his presence known from the back seat, spoke up. “Damn right!” 

As Eddie pulled up in front of the large house, he leaned over the centre controls, giving you a playful nudge. “Don’t keep him waiting any longer. I bet he is pacing a hole in the floor.”

You playfully glare at him as you pop the door open. “He’s not that bad.”

“Sure,” he replied, rolling his eyes. “Well, tell him Dustin and I said hey.”

“Will do,” you replied as you hopped out of the van. You waved at the two of them as they began to drive away, heavy metal music blaring as they faded into the distance. Your smile from Eddie’s previous comment was still lingering on your lips as you bounded up to the front door, excitedly ringing the bell. 

What you didn’t see was Steve had witnessed the entire interaction from his window—your expression as you laughed with Eddie and Dustin, how you looked so at ease and comfortable around them. You hadn’t even known them for that long. The sight twisted something ugly up inside of him, insecurities that were larger than he knew. He didn’t know how to handle them, the thought of being left behind. 

The door swung open after a few moments, and there stood your Steve, leaning casually against the door frame as he looked you up and down. God, he was whipped. “Hey, there you are,” he said with that classic, easy, Steve smile, relief washing over him the second he laid eyes on you. 

You took a step forward, eager to close the distance between the two of you as you wrapped your arms around his waist “Sorry I’m late.”

He chucked as he returned your embrace, sturdy arms enveloping you. “No worries, I’m always happy to wait.” 

The statement was true. Way too true, and that fact started to scare him.

You leaned up to press your lips against his, he was soft, familiar, and for a second, it felt like everything was perfect. He held the door open for you to step inside, the scent of his earthy cologne filled your senses. 

He followed you into the living room, watching you kick off your shoes, holding his arm out just in case you toppled over. He had made that mistake only once in the past, the bruise on your leg was huge. You’re clumsy nature may have been endearing, but he’ll be damned if you hurt yourself on his watch.  

“You didn’t ride your bike?” He asked, subtly trying to figure out exactly why you had gotten out of the familiar van. 

“I was lucky Eddie offered me a lift. I kind of lost track of time,” you said nonchalantly, kicking your shoes into the corner. 

His posture stiffened for the briefest moment at your confirmation. Honestly, he had hoped that what he saw five minutes earlier was just a figment of his imagination. “Oh, cool,” he forced himself to keep his tone light. “That was nice of him.”

You didn’t notice how fake the plastered smile on his face was as you settled onto the couch, already making yourself at home as you reached for the throw blanket. “So, what’s the plan for tonight hm? Movies? Snacks? Oh, did you order pizza?” You rambled, getting more excited with each question. It put his mind at ease a little bit to see you this giddy with excitement. If he let himself believe that he was the cause, maybe he could stop worrying. 

He beamed and moved to join you, resting his head against the pillows as he glanced down at your pure expression. “All of the above, sweetheart. But we are not repeating what you told me a few weeks ago that eating leftover pizza for breakfast was ‘nutritionally balanced’.”

You giggled as you unfurled the blanket, taking extra care to make sure he was fully covered. “It is balanced! Carbs, protein, maybe a vegetable if there’s a stray pepper.”

“Right,” Steve smirked as he drew out the word, trying to get on board with your reasoning. Reaching over for the remote to turn the movie on. 

As the credits for the cheesy rom-com rolled across the screen, you stretched your stiff body out.  You untucked yourself from his side, resulting in a frown from Steve, not quite ready to let you go yet. 

“I still don’t get why we always watch these,” you speak over the ending soundtrack. “All the girl ever does is swoon over the guy, ignoring all the red flags until it’s too late.”

He rests his arm on the back of the couch, placing his chin on top of it to give you his full attention. “What can I say? I’m a sucker for a happy ending.”

You roll your eyes and nudge his foot with your own. “Such a romantic.”

Steve blushes before turning away, giving you a casual shrug. “I just like them. Who knows, I could always start serenading you under your window, the whole nine yards.”

“Serenade, huh?” You chuckle, angling your head to lean against his arm. “Do you even know how to play an instrument?”

He drew his face towards you, scrunching his nose in your direction. “I can learn. Get some guitar lessons.”

Maybe you like guitar. Eddie plays the guitar. 

You giggle at the mental image of Steve strumming clumsily, tongue poking out in concentration, getting frustrated with the sheet music that would be scattered around him. “Oh, I’d pay to see that.”

He runs his hand through your hair, admiring your soft features illuminated by only the TV screen. “You wouldn’t have to pay. If you wanted it, I’d do it for free.”

He meant every word. If it kept you in his life, he would practise until his fingers bled. 

“Has anyone told you how much of a sap you are?” You ask, but it lacks its usual teasing. 

“Yeah, but I’m your sap,” he replies, words overflowing with tenderness. 

You look at him closely. Really look at him. His loving smile falters slightly under your gaze, eyes flickering downwards to hide his expression more. 

Shifting towards him, you lay a hand across his chest, feeling the steady thump of his heart quicken at your touch. “What’s wrong?”

Steve blinks, another smile forced, not quite reaching his eyes. God, why did you have to ask it like that? In a sweet tone, filled with concern. He thought he was good at lying. All those secret parties he held in his parent’s absence, brushing off their questions about various missing decorations that most likely had been broken. Nobody noticed when his heart was broken a few years back. When he could hardly drag himself to work. But somehow, you could pick him apart easily. 

“Nothing,” he lies, trying to brush you off. “Just…thinking.”

“About what?”

He sighs, his fingers tracing an aimless pattern on your shoulder as he avoids looking at you. “Just…us, I guess. Wondering if I’m actually good at this whole ‘boyfriend’ thing or if you’re just humouring me.”

The confession made him feel exposed. He regretted saying anything at all. 

You frown at his admission, “What? Why would you think that?” You can’t hide the shock from your voice. This is the same boy who kept your favourite tea stocked in his cupboard, the same boy who built your entire bookcase when you mentioned you were struggling with the instructions, the same boy who even phoned the doctor’s office for you when you were too scared to talk to the receptionist.  

He ticked every box and more, your heart broke for how he felt. 

“I don’t know…Sometimes I wonder if I’m gonna screw this up. Like, if I’m just temporary.” His eyes are still glued to his lap, unable to look away. If only he didn’t have this much baggage. 

You furrow your brows, reaching up to cup his cheek, tilting his head so he’s forced to meet your eyes. “Steve, you’re not temporary. Okay? You’re not some placeholder to me.”

He leans into your touch, his hand covering yours for a moment. But even though he smiles softly at your words, the doubt still lingers in his eyes.

“I guess we’ll see,” he murmurs, the vulnerability heavy in his voice.

You sigh, realising this is a result of something more going on, but you still give him a gentle look. You have no problem reassuring him. You could tell him one hundred times how cherished he is without complaint. As many times as it took to make the message stick. If that’s what it took, you would gladly do it. 

Steve was buzzing as soon as he got off the phone with Kieth. His presence at the video store was not required today, and he had been planning how to surprise you all morning. Acting as giddy as a high schooler. He hadn’t had the chance to see you since you last hung out at his place and he really wanted to do something sweet. Not out of the lingering insecurity he was feeling, but he wanted to see you happy. Especially when it was because of him. 

He tried to go the extra mile today, waking up early and driving to the nice florist on the other side of town, just to make sure he got the freshest flowers. A little effort from him means a big smile from you—totally worth it in his book. The bouquet was huge, it sat in your usual place, in the passenger seat. He specifically chose your favourite colour as the wrapping paper, and the bow that secured it too. Smiling to himself as he pictured your reaction. 

Climbing the steps to your little apartment, something you were so excited to finally be able to afford with your job, his heart beat with anticipation. He easily fished out the spare key you had given him, smiling as the tiny keychain dangled from it—a tiny VHS tape you had been so proud to find at the flea market, insisting on putting it on yourself because it ‘needed some flair’. It was a thoughtful gesture, it made him feel warm whenever he saw it. 

Holding his breath to not make any noise, he unlocked your door and gently pushed it open, careful not to startle you. His eyes immediately landed on the couch—and his whole world froze. 

There, sprawled out on the couch, was none other than Eddie Munson. Looking the same as he always did, completely relaxed In his worn Metalica t-shirt and scuffed trainers. 

The worst part wasn’t just him. It was you. Your head resting in his lap, and Eddie was absently playing with a strand of your hair. He glanced up at Steve’s entrance and immediately put a finger to his lips, signalling Steve to stay quiet. His blood boiled at the gesture. 

“Shh,” Eddie whispered, gesturing to you. “She’s asleep.”

He was glued to the spot. What the fuck is he doing here?

Eddie carefully lifted your head off his legs, swapping himself out for a pillow, taking extra care not to rouse you. 

“Hey, man,” he greeted casually as he stood, stretching out his arms like this wasn’t the single most infuriating sight Steve had ever seen. “We were just hanging out, watching some trash TV. She was out like a light.”

His voice was still a whisper as he explained what happened, trying to add some humour to the situation. “Probably for the best, I mean. I can watch crappy shit all day, but even this was painful to sit through. No big deal.”

Steve’s jaw clenched. Hard. His grip on the flowers tightened until he could feel a few give way under the pressure. No big deal? You’ve got to be kidding me. He felt a surge of possessiveness course through him, igniting an anger he believed was dormant. His mind began to race, everything he had been trying to ignore had bubbled straight back up to the surface like a ticking time bomb. She is that comfortable to fall asleep on him?!

Eddie, completely oblivious to Steve’s thinly veiled fury, patted him on the shoulder. “Sorry, but I gotta be heading myself. Wayne’ll be wondering where I’ve been.” He said, giving him a small smile as if this was a totally normal situation for the two of you. “Take care, man.” With that, Eddie slipped past him, closing the door silently as he exited. 

The apartment felt eerily quiet as Steve just stood there, staring at the door, trying to wrap his head around what the hell just happened. Unbelievable. He rediverted his attention back to you, still soundly asleep on the couch, completely unaware of the storm brewing inside of him. He crossed the room slowly, as if on autopilot, mind a nasty mix of anger and jealousy. You fell asleep on Eddie. Eddie, of all people. How long were you two just... sitting there like that?

He took a seat in the armchair opposite, memories of the two of you trying to squeeze onto it now bitterly replaying in his mind. The flowers were still clutched in his hand, forgotten in his flood of emotions.

He didn’t want to acknowledge what he had just walked in on. His heart beat painfully in his chest. This is how it starts, right? He thought bitterly. Starts all innocent like this. I’ve seen this before. I’ve lived this before. His mind flashed back to that goddamn Halloween party, to the nights he thought things were fine, only to realise too late that he had been left behind—again.

Steve exhaled sharply, frustration gnawing at him. It’s happening. It’s fucking happening again. He was always second best. His parents, Nancy, Dustin, you. 

He glanced down at the flowers in his hand, the stems crushed from his tense grip. They were supposed to be part of a sweet surprise, a way to make you smile, but now... now they just felt like a cruel joke. With him being the punchline. As per usual.

He set them down on the coffee table and leaned backwards, his gaze locked on your peaceful sleeping form, his mind a mess. His foot tapped impatiently against the floor. He was fuming—so mad he could barely think straight.

The room was in complete silence as you began to stir awake, reaching your arms above your head lazily. You blinked a few times as you returned to reality, the soft haze of sleep still lingering. You heard your back pop and you groaned at the sensation, falling asleep on the couch had been a terrible idea. 

You let out a brief yawn and look around for Eddie, but instead, your eyes land on your boyfriend. He sat across from you, arms crossed tensely, his expression neutral. He wasn’t smiling, which was odd for him. In fact, he looked angry. 

“When did you get here?” Your forehead crinkled in confusion, voice still raspy with sleep as you asked. “Where did Eddie go?”

Steve shifted in the chair, leaning back and spreading his legs further apart. “Eddie left a while ago,” he snapped, his tone was sharp and clipped. “I got the day off work.”

“Oh, I didn’t know,” your brain still trying to piece the information together. “You should have called.”

He scoffed as he shook his head, a lock of brown hair escaping to rest against his forehead. “Yeah, well. I wasn’t aware you had other plans.”

You sat up straighter on the couch, trying to ignore the knot forming in your stomach. His tone—he never spoke to you like that. It sounded frustrated, irritated. Like you had done something wrong. You wracked your brain trying to think of anything that would have upset him, eventually coming up short. Eddie’s presence here didn’t even pass through your mind, there is no way Steve would be that possessive. Could he?

“Steve…what’s wrong?” You asked cautiously, concern creeping into your voice. “Why are you mad?”

His brown eyes darkened, his face twisting with an expression you had never seen before. All the insecurity he had been feeling, all the unresolved emotions, came crashing to the surface in a wave of anger. It was frightening. He was frightening you. 

“You wanna know what’s wrong?” He barked out a laugh, one that was filled with no humour. “I come over here, thinking I’m gonna surprise my girlfriend. But instead? I find her asleep on the town freak.”

Your heart sank. He spat the words out as if they tasted vile on his tongue. You never knew that he could be this vicious, the foul name that just spewed from his lips made your throat tighten. “Steve, that’s not—”

“Don’t,” he cut you off, his voice bitter as he continued. “You think I’m stupid? Like I don’t see what’s going on here? You and Eddie. He’s always around, and suddenly, you’re all buddy-buddy with him, falling asleep on his lap like it’s no big deal. I mean—Jesus, sweetheart—how dense do you think I am?”

“Steve, it wasn’t like that,” your voice broke as you struggled to speak. The nickname that had always been filled with such love was now venomous, you struggled to understand what was happening. Why he wasn’t listening? Why wasn’t he trusting you?

“We were just hanging out, watching TV—“

“Oh yeah? Just watching TV? Sure,” Steve spat, getting up to start pacing, the adrenaline coursing through his body was too much. His mind was racing, old memories resurfacing, ones that he would rather not think about only helped fuel his rage. He turned back to you, eyes wild with fury.

“Moved on pretty quick, huh?” He ran a hand over his face, voice dripping with resentment. “I mean, I gotta hand it to you, honey. But you could have tried a little harder before the secret spilt out eventually.”

Tears formed in your waterline as you tried your best not to let them fall. “How could you say that?” You took in a shaky breath. “Why are you acting like this?”

“Oh, don’t do that,” he pointed a finger at you. “Don’t act all innocent here. I’ve seen this shit before, okay? Little things that aren’t that little. Don’t play dumb, it’s embarrassing.”

“I’m not!” You protested, not caring about the tears that now flowed freely down your cheeks. “I love you, Steve. Please. Eddie is just a friend.”

He rolled his eyes, your pleading falling on deaf ears. “Yeah, ‘just a friend’,” he muttered hostilely. “Sure.”

His words cut deep, and you felt yourself crumble under the weight of them. You began to panic as you realised there was no way out of this. Not when he was so dead set on believing what he wanted. You could only stare back at him in disbelief, heart breaking at how trivial this argument is. 

“I thought you left this high school crap behind you,” you whispered, scared and unsure of how he would react. 

“Yeah, well, some things never change.” He shot back, his tongue still as fast as it had been back then. He mentioned how he was in school a few times in the past, but now you could really see it. The petty boy who would say anything in the heat of the moment. The boy who could pick the thing that would hurt the most. 

The room fell into a heavy silence, staring at one another, the distance between you growing more and more with each passing second. You could barely recognise the man standing only a few feet away. You wanted to reach out to him, plead with him to just stop. Go back to being Steve. Your Steve. 

“I can’t believe what you’re saying,” you managed to choke out, wiping at your eyes with the sleeves of your jumper. “You’re hurting me.”

Steve hesitated for a moment, a brief flash of guilt flickered across his face at the sight of your tears. His beautiful girl was torn apart by what he was insinuating. But he was too far gone. His misplaced anger was the only thing he could feel right now, pushing him further. “Yeah well, now you know how that feels.”

A sob wracked through your body, his statement feeling like a dagger to your chest. He made his way towards the door to leave, his gaze landed on the stack of VHS tapes by the TV. He knew he should walk away, but a petty bitterness surged through him. He could never resist getting one final jab in. 

“Make sure you return those by the weekend. Late fees now apply, sweetheart.” He sneered, lips turning into a snarl. 

With that, he tossed the flowers he’d brought for you onto the table, the delicate petals now scattered across it. You stared at them, your vision blurred by your tears as Steve stormed out of your apartment. He slammed the door sharply as he left, making you flinch. 

As soon as he was gone, you collapsed onto the couch, finally allowing yourself to cry uncontrollably. You didn’t understand how everything had spiralled so fast. How the man who was so sweet, so kind, had turned into this.

On the other side of the door, Steve’s heart was racing, pounding so hard he could hear it in his ears. He leaned against the wall for a moment and shut his eyes, trying to get his breathing under control as the rage he felt dissipated. 

He wouldn’t allow himself to feel guilty, not over this. He didn’t jump to conclusions, not when the signs were so clear to him. 

He stumbled down the stairs and got into his car, foot pressing down hard on the accelerator as he drove away. Each mile felt heavier than the last. He couldn’t allow himself to question what he had said, besides, it was too late to take it all back now. What he couldn’t answer was why he felt so much more empty as he pulled up to his house. Alone. 

Steve pushed open the door to Family Video, the small bell above him chiming as he trudged inside. It felt like it was mocking him, only adding to his sour mood. He was fifteen minutes late, something that never went unnoticed by Robin.

His eyes looked and felt drained, dark circles framing his eyes from his obvious lack of sleep. The night before had been hell. All he had done was toss and turn, replaying the argument with you over and over again in his head until he was sick of it. His chest ached from all the emotions that were still swirling inside of him. Anger, sadness, and a terrifying amount of regret that he wasn’t sure what to do with. 

Robin was at the counter, tapping away at the computer when she saw him walk in. Her face lit up, clearly excited to spill something. “There you are! You won’t believe what I’m about to tell you. I saw Vicky at the movies yesterday and—“

“Rob, I’m really not in the mood today.” He interrupted her, rubbing a hand over his brows. 

The girl froze, her face contorting with confusion. Usually, Steve lived for gossip like this. In fact, he almost always begged for it.

“Wait…what? You were off yesterday. Shouldn’t you be, like, all refreshed or something? What, did you party too hard without me?”

He shot her a glare, making it crystal clear that something was wrong. Of course, being ever curious, Robin was not going to let this slide. 

“Oh, no. Spill it, Harrington.” She began, leaving the computer to follow his quick steps. “You come in late, looking like shit, and now you’re all moody? Did something happen yesterday?”

Steve sighed, running a hand through his messy hair he hadn’t even bothered to brush. Not willing to humour her at all today. “Robin, please—”

“Please what? I’m not gonna stop asking. C’mon, let it out. I’m all ears. I’ll even sit down for this one.” She says dramatically as she hops up onto the counter, crossing her legs, glancing at him expectantly as if she had all the time in the world. 

Steve groaned loudly. “Fine, fine. You want to know what happened?” He said, exasperated.  “I walked in yesterday, excited to surprise my girl, and guess what I saw? Eddie. Like, she had her head in his lap and everything. They were all over each other. It was disgusting.”

Robin scrunched her eyebrows as she processed his words. “Eddie? The Eddie Munson?” She squinted, looking even more confused. “Are we talking about the same Eddie here? The one who’s completely obsessed with Chrissy Cunningham? I mean, he’s had it bad for her for years. That Eddie?”

“What? Chrissy?” Steve frowned, pausing as her words sank in. “What the hell are you talking about?”

Robin tilted her head at him like he was an idiot. Which she would say was most of the time. “Uh, yeah? He’s been pining after her for, like, ever. He never had the guts to ask her out. Everyone knows that.”

She carried on talking as if this was common knowledge, which maybe it was. The knowledge was just not that common to Steve, apparently. “So Eddie’s into your girl now? Are you sure about that?”

He felt his stomach drop, trying to ignore the rising panic in his chest. “I mean… yeah. Pretty sure? He was, like, touching her and they were—“ He stopped halfway through his sentence, doubt now taking over. 

Was that really all he saw? Surely not. He couldn’t have gotten so mad about just that, there had to be more. Only, nothing really came to mind. 

Robin raises an eyebrow. “Touching her, huh? And that exactly happened? No skipping details.”

Steve scratched the back of his head as he tried to recall the events from the evening prior, his anxiety continued to grow as he spoke. “I saw him drop her off at my place the other day. She got out of his van, and they looked all… close. Then, when I went to her apartment earlier, I walk in, and there she is, asleep across his lap.”

Robin took a second to process what he was saying, speaking slowly as she tried to wrap her head around the situation. “So… you’re mad because she fell asleep with him on the couch? While watching TV? That’s what you’re telling me?”

Steve’s breath hitched in his throat, immediately getting defensive, trying to prove that he wasn’t just overreacting. “Well, yeah, but it’s the way she was with him. It was just too… cosy.”

She could not believe what she was hearing as she stared at the boy blankly. “Dude, we do that stuff all the time. Like, every movie night.”

Steve's stomach twisted. He felt sick. “Yeah, but…that’s different. This is—” He couldn’t continue. There was no solid ground for him to stand on. The knowledge of that was overwhelming. Fuck. 

Robin narrowed her eyes, still determined to get to the bottom of whatever was going on. “Okay, I still don’t get it. What did you do?”

He shifted uncomfortably at her questions, his guilt was building inside of him as the true terror set in. “I, uh… I may have been a complete asshole.”

Her eyes widened at the admission. “Define ‘complete asshole.’”

Steve’s hands shook as he brought them up to his forehead, slightly damp from his growing fear. “I called Eddie the ‘town freak’—fuck—and I—“ He paused and took a breath in, the consequences of his insecurities now coming into the light. “I told her we were over basically…she asked me to stop hurting her.”

Robin’s jaw dropped, feeling outraged at the way her best friend had acted. That was not something she could ever stand beside, no matter how close they were. “You what? Steve, that's fucking insane! I can’t believe you drove her to the point of even having to say that!”

The world seemed distorted as Steve became short of breath, he had to rest a hand on the counter to keep himself steady, the tight grip becoming painful. “I don’t know! I just—it all came out. I couldn’t stop myself—shit. What—what do I do?”

Robin started at him, completely stunned and equally irked. “Steve,” she said, the stern tone felt foreign on her tongue. “This is not just ‘I messed up a little’—you blew it, dude.”

He was breathing faster now, mouth barren, limbs turning slightly numb. The panic had now set in fully. “No, no, no. Don’t say that. I can fix it, right? I always fix it. I have to fix it, Robin. Please, help me fix it!” His voice increased as he got the words out, hands trembling in front of him. 

She looked at him, she was no less annoyed, but she couldn’t help but pity her friend. Especially when he looked like he was on the verge of a nervous breakdown like this. He was a wreck right now and needed someone. 

“Okay, fine. I’ll help you,” Steve sighed in relief, however, she wasn’t finished. “But I’m seriously not happy about any of this. If she doesn’t take you back, you have to deal with it, Steve. This is on you.”

Steve nodded frantically, hair flying everywhere as he clung to the small sliver of hope. “Anything. I’ll do anything. I can’t lose her, Robin. I just… I can’t”

She folded her arms, her face remaining stoic to show her displeasure with him. “Alright. We will think of something, and you better pray to God she hears you out. You have got a lot of sucking up to do Harrington.”

He muttered quiet a thank you, his heart not slowing down. He couldn’t afford to lose you, not over this, not because of his own self-doubt. Please, he thought to himself. Please for the love of God don’t let her leave me.

For ten long minutes, Steve had been standing outside your apartment, heart hammering in his chest as he stared at the shut door. Ten agonising minutes of him just waiting, stalling, trying to muster up the courage to raise his hand and just knock. He could have used the spare key that was burning a hole in his back pocket, but that wouldn’t be right. Not after what he did. He had to do this the right way if he had any chance of forgiveness. This wasn’t a situation that could be fixed with flowers or chocolates. He had spoken to Robin for the whole of yesterday, and they both agreed—he needed to own up to everything that transpired, to apologise, even if it was hard. Even if it was terrifying. 

Because losing you? That wasn’t an option. 

With a deep breath, he rapped his knuckles against the solid wood. The second he made contact with the door, his stomach flipped. He wanted to run. To turn around and bolt. But he couldn’t. Not this time. He had too much to lose—you. The sweet, kind girl who had always made him feel seen, made him feel held. How could he walk away from that without trying? 

It wasn’t long before the door creaked open, the sight of you nearly knocked all the air out of his lungs. You’d been crying, that much was obvious. Your eyes were red, puffy, and filled with the hurt that he had caused. If that wasn’t enough to crush him, you were clad in one of his old hoodies—one he’d left at your place months ago. Seeing you wrapped up in something of his twisted the knife so deep that he nearly staggered back before he caught himself. 

You immediately moved to shut the door, not willing to let him hurt you more, but Steve panicked. “Please, please, angel don’t,” his voice cracked as he begged to be let in, his hand pushing lightly against the door, so desperate to keep it open. Desperate to not be shut out before he could even try to say sorry. “I need to talk to you. Please.”

You paused, removing your hand and gently taking a step away from the entrance. You crossed your arms as you looked at him, still visibly upset, your voice sharp but exhausted. The tone pulled at his chest. “You’ve got five minutes Steve. Then I want you out of here.”

He nodded eagerly, grateful for a chance, no matter how slim. “Of course, anything…I’ll take anything. Just…please.”

You let him in, both stepping further into the flat, his eyes immediately locked onto the sight of the coffee table. The flowers he picked up yesterday were still sitting there—petals scattered everywhere, beginning to dry up and wilt. 

You couldn’t bear to touch them after he tossed them there the day before, you had hardly left your bedroom due to their presence. A brutal reminder of what happened. He felt sick to his stomach with the knowledge of how badly he hurt you. How you couldn’t even deal with the ruined gift because they were tied to him. To the things he said. 

You fiddled with the sleeve of his hoodie, now feeling embarrassed while wearing it, nervous as to what he could possibly say to make this right. If he even wanted to make it right. You honestly didn’t know. 

He turned to you, words catching in his throat as he tried to figure out where to even start with this. He had gone over this with Robin multiple times yesterday, but the sight of you completely threw him. 

“I—I’m sorry, angel,” he stammered, that was a good place to start, his voice as rough as he continued. “I’m so, so sorry. For everything. For not thinking. For not believing you. For… for making you cry. I didn’t mean to—I swear, I didn’t.”

You stood firm, arms not moving from their crossed position. You weren’t giving in easily, not this time. You had every single right to be upset. Steve has frightened you. He was mean and spiteful, lashing out at you instead of listening. His jealousy was ugly. 

He fumbled for more words, his hands beginning to shake. “I…I was an asshole, I hate that I hurt you. I just…I freaked out, okay? I thought—“ He stopped, swallowing thickly as his emotions threatened to choke him fully. “I thought I was going to lose you. Like…like I lost Nancy.”

Your expression shifted slightly, but you remained silent, allowing him to continue. 

His voice grew quieter, more pained. “Halloween, a few years back, Nancy told me I was just…bullshit. Jonathan swept in after that. And when I saw you with Eddie—fuck—I just—” He ran a hand through his brown hair, pulling harder at the ends as his frustration grew. “Eddie’s already got Dustin. He’s…he’s got everything. And I thought he’d take you too. And I just…I panicked. I know it’s stupid, okay? I was just—“

He was rambling now and he knew it, the words were tumbling out faster than he could stop them. He only had five minutes, he needed you to understand. To please understand him. 

“I was so fucking scared, honey. I’m scared you’ll wake up one day and realise that I’m bullshit. That you’ll find someone better. Someone who isn’t…who isn’t me.” His voice cracked again at his attempt to hold back the tears that clouded his vision. 

You let out a small sigh, your expression wary. You couldn’t let your guard down, not yet at least. 

“Steve…what happened yesterday was not okay. You hurt me. A lot.”

“I know,” he said in a hushed tone, his voice barely louder than a breath. “I know I did, and I’ll never forgive myself for that. I swear, I’ll be better. I’ll be so much better—if you’ll let me. You deserve everything, sweetheart. A-and I’ll give it to you, I promise. Just…please. Please let me prove that.”

Steve’s voice broke as the overwhelming dread overflowed, what had once been a gentle simmering below the surface now coursed through his entire body. No, he thought, It’s not working. It’s not fucking working.

His hands were quivering uncontrollably, his vision blurred as his thoughts spiralled. Everything was crashing down around him—the fear, the memories, the guilt. 

He couldn’t stop it. He couldn’t lose you. Not you. 

“I—I can’t,” Steve stammered, his words short as they came out in small gasps. He backed up slightly, he didn’t know if he was scared of your presence or himself at this point. “I don’t know what to do. I don’t know how to fix this. I’m so—so fucking scared, I—“ 

His hands flew to his face in a weak attempt to hold himself together, his breath coming out in frantic bursts. His whole body shook involuntarily. Nancy, his parents, the same gut-wrenching feeling of being told he wasn’t enough. Wasn’t loved. That he was unimportant. Just temporary. 

You were stuck, rooted to where you stood, watching him unravel. And in that moment, you didn’t know what to do. The Steve you knew so well—the confident, charming, self-assured Steve—was crumbling before your eyes, his fear felt so raw, so overwhelming that it broke your heart to witness it. 

“Steve,” you say softly, moving towards him, but he couldn’t hear you. Not over his own mind. He was too far gone. 

“I can’t—fuck, I—“ His broad chest heaved as he tried to suck in air, but it seemed to do little to help. His hands shook violently, gripping at his tousled hair as he slid down to the floor, his back against the wall. “I’m gonna lose you, angel. I know it, and I can’t—I can’t do that again.”

“Steve,” you repeat, voice more forceful this time as you drop to your knees beside him. You reached out to him slowly, so as to not startle him, taking his unsteady hands in your own. “Breathe. Just…breathe with me, okay?”

He was trembling so much that it scared you, even more than he had yesterday. His breaths were coming out shallow and erratic, your heart ached to see him like this—so broken, so scared. 

“It’s okay. I’m here.” You kept your voice soft, soothing as you held onto him, your thumbs tracing small circles on his skin. You began to understand. “You’re okay. I’m not going anywhere. I promise.”

The skin around his eyes was pulled taught as he squeezed them shut, he tried to follow your lead, match your breathing with his own, using it as a guide. “Just breathe, okay?” You repeated, you held your voice steady until his ragged breaths began to slow, becoming deeper and more even. 

It took a few minutes to get his trembling to ease, fingers still tracing gentle patterns, reminding him of your presence. His grip eventually loosened, but never wavered, he clung onto you like a lifeline. His head hung low as he tried to pull himself back together. 

You watched his chest as you knelt beside him, it rose and fell more calmly compared to a few moments ago. His large brown eyes flickered open as they focused on you. Red and glassy, filled with fear as he looked at you. Really looked at you. 

“I’m so so sorry,” he spoke in a muted tone, barely audible as he turned his attention to your intertwined hands. “I wasn’t thinking straight. I just… I didn’t know what to do. I—I needed to hurt you before you hurt me.”

Your stomach was in knots at the sight of him so vulnerable. Posture hunched over as if he wanted to disappear into himself. It broke your heart to witness. You squeezed his hands gently as you leaned closer to him. 

“Steve, listen to me,” you tell him. His eyes lifted to meet yours, amber and swirling with uncertainty. “I’m not going anywhere. But you have to talk to me, okay? If something is bothering you. If you’re feeling scared, you have to tell me. You can’t just take it out on me. It’s not fair.”

He shook his head and sniffed, rubbing his hand roughly against his eyes, trying to brush away the tears. “I don’t want to push you away,” he muttered, voice no longer as shakey. He felt his mind settle as the words flowed out of his mouth more comfortably. 

“I just… I don’t know how to do this,” he gestured between the two of you. “I’ve never been good at… at the talking stuff.”

For the first time today, you allowed a smile to play on your lips as you brushed a lock of hair from his forehead. “I kinda got that,” you tell him. “You don’t have to be perfect. I just need you to be able to come to me, talk to me. Get out of your head. I’m always here.”

You tapped his forehead twice for emphasis as he exhaled slowly. The tension in his body had finally been released as he slumped against the wall. He brought both of your hands up to his lips, pressing a kiss to your knuckles, swallowing hard as he returned them to his lap. “Don’t deserve you, angel.”

Leaning forward and pressing your forehead against his own, closing your eyes as you speak. “You deserve someone who cares,” you tell him as you pull back, eyes shining with pure honesty which soothes his shot nerves. “And I do. So, just…trust me. Even if it's hard sometimes.”

“I do,” he said quickly. “I do. I’m sorry I didn’t, sweetheart. I’m sorry for everything.”

“I know,” you say, rubbing your thumb across his cheek, looking at him with the tenderness he never thought he would see again. “You don’t have to apologise anymore.”

He nodded once more, your forgiveness was finally sinking into him, pushing the last bit of panic out of his system. He opened his arms, asking you silently if it was alright to hold you once more. 

You shifted yourself between his legs, allowing his arms to pull you into a tight embrace, bringing you close as if you might disappear again. Slip through his fingers if he let you go. 

You rested your head against his chest, tucked up tightly as his chin rested on your hair. You could feel his heart beat at a more steady pace. You placed your palm over it. It belonged to you after all. 

“I love you, you know that?” He asked as he held you against him, anchoring himself to you. 

“I know,” you respond, words slightly muffled by his jumper. “I love you too.”

You pull away slightly, meeting his eyes once more. The heaviness from the previous conversation had lifted, feeling relief flow through you as the warmth returned to Steve’s face. He wasn’t completely at ease, still very much shaken, but he could see a light at the end of the tunnel. The worst was behind him. And he promised it would only be up from here. 

“So tell me,” you began. You knew you needed to steer the conversation in a more light-hearted direction, not just for yourself, but for the boy whose lap you were in. “Was Robin mad?”

“Ugh, don’t remind me,” Steve groaned as his head hit the wall behind him. At least he could walk into work with a smile on his face tomorrow. Tell her that he made it right…but maybe leave out the whole hysterical crying part. “She was ready to rip my head off after I told her what happened.”

“Oh, really?” You raised an eyebrow and giggled. “Good to know she has my back.”

“Guess I’m outnumbered,” Steve allowed himself to laugh, and God did it feel good to do it with you.

“Well, that’s what happens when you don’t listen.”

“Okay, okay. Fair enough,” he winced, but managed to maintain a grin. “I think I’ll survive her wrath…maybe.”

“Maybe,” you hummed thoughtfully. “Gonna have to put in some work there then.”

“I am prepared to do whatever it takes,” he tells you with mock seriousness. “Even offer to be her wingman with Vickie.”

“Wow, generous,” you snorted. It would probably benefit him more, if you were being honest. He had been nagging her to make a move for months, her constant pining and inaction was starting to get to him. He had been giving her the same advice over and over. It was getting ridiculous. His words, not yours. 

“And, hey, maybe I’ll give Munson a chance too,” he tells you, glancing down with a playful expression. “Join Hellfire, see what all the fuss is about.”

The laugh that escaped you was loud, you shook your head at him. “Steve, you would be terrible and D&D.”

“Hey, I’m good at strategy!” He protested, not allowing himself to be insulted in this manner. “I’d make a great…uh, whatever they call the fighter guy.”

“You mean a barbarian?” You say teasingly. “I could see you as more of a chotic bard. Always trying to talk yourself out of trouble.”

“Yeah? You never know, I could surprise you,” he says, leaning down to press his lips against your hairline. “For now though, I think I’ll focus on not screwing things up again.”

Your heart fluttered as you melted into him, securing your arms around his wide shoulders. “You’re on the right track, Harrington”

“Good,” he smiled at the nickname, placing his hand on your arm, the other on your back. “I don’t plan on going anywhere. And neither are you if I can help it.”

“Deal,” you say with a firm nod of your head. “No more freakouts, okay?”

He looked over your face once more, relieved that there were no more visible traces of the pain he had caused. Just his sweet girl smiling at him. Just the way he liked it. 

"I'll try my best," Steve whispered, holding you close. "I promise."

[nichuuu]

Beats Me - 7: Emails I Can’t Send

ft. Kim Minju

Word Count: 10k+

The first few minutes of your meeting are spent by Yeji and Yuna to catch up on life. 

You sit by the side, detached from the conversation as you sip on the latte (what did they put in this thing? It’s so damn good). They relive some highschool memories, ask each other what they’ve been studying—the usual stuff. The croissants at the counter look really good, and you’re wondering if they’ll taste as good as they look. Maybe you should buy one later. 

Yuna reminds you of Ryujin, only if Ryujin looked friendlier and less intimidating upon first glance. Her voice is distinct, her laugh even more so as she does that thing where she moves her feet like she’s running while she doubles over. Her eyes stay focused on her senior who—for the first time since you’ve seen her—is smiling. Yeji’s lanky fingers stay affixed to the straw, moving every now and then to disturb the ice as she stirs the drink. The coffee swirling in milk leaves light brown streaks against the side of her glass, creating these streaky patterns that look like they probably belong on an art piece. There are some details in her life that she briefly touches on but never delves into, probably because you’re there next to her.

Then it’s finally time. You’re dragged back into the conversation when Yeji says, “So you want to join the band?” and suddenly the cat that’s situated just outside the glass door doesn’t have your attention. Yea. Been looking for a chance to play, is Yuna’s reply, I saw you guys play at that bar the other time. You guys were great. 

Eunbi should be here. She would’ve been ecstatic to hear that.

Yeji nods her head, stirring her drink idly as she silently looks at her junior. You hope that Yuna’s stratagem to enter isn’t just flattery. A sinking feeling tells you that it just might be, judging from the way she’s shifting under the gaze of her senior.

“Remind me Yuna: how many years have you played the saxophone for?” Yeji inquires. Yuna’s response is quick, almost rehearsed—five years now. Never stopped playing for a single moment in my life—and Yeji seems rather pleased by it. Yuna sips on her grapefruit ade, casting a glance your way as Yeji drums her nails against the table. You shoot the younger girl a reassuring smile, and hopefully she gets the message that she’s doing great in your books.

Then Yeji unfolds her arms, taps a nail before your crossed arms that rest on the table to get your attention. The same nail points towards Yuna, and its owner simply gestures with her chin. You get what she wants you to do, though you would’ve appreciated it if she’d just told you what she wanted, and you clear your throat while sitting up a little straighter. 

“Um… Yeji kinda has me here to… Talk about my experience.” You internally cringe at your opening statement. What is this? An alumni sharing session? you chide yourself, all while you’re continuing on to whatever it is you have to say, “When you join this band, do expect yourself to be pushed a little. The hours aren’t all that taxing, but you gotta be able to… You know, strike that work life balance, as they say.”

And that’s just about all you have to say. Yeji neither smiles nor glares at you, only giving the smallest of nods as she focuses her attention on her junior. “If we give you a chart, you better learn it by heart by next practice. If we have a gig, practice will get more intensive. There’s a lot of things you need to be able to do Yuna. You can’t just think that you’re up to it; you have to be sure that you can shoulder all of these responsibilities.”

She’s making this sound like military recruitment, you’re thinking. Yuna’s definitely feeling a slight shift in atmosphere, and she’s fiddling with her glass as she stares straight into Yeji’s eyes. If you’re being honest: Yeji is definitely exaggerating the rigor of the band, and it’s probably scaring the poor girl. Your guitarist’s gaze isn’t at its peak intensity, but it’s enough to make Yuna purse her lips in silence, her smile fading from her face. Yeji greets her junior’s silence with a grim expression.

“So. Let me ask you again.” This time, Yeji’s tone is the furthest thing from gentle. “Are you ready to join us?”

Yuna stares at the melting ice in her glass. She takes a sip of her coffee, lets it sit in her mouth for a bit, and then swallows. “I’ll… I’ll text you when I’ve made up my mind.”

And all at once, it feels like all the happiness in the world has been sapped out of this cafe. Yeji stands up, leaving the rest of her latte untouched as she shoulders her bag and pushes in her chair. 

“I’ll pay you for the latte,” she says, albeit a bit too nonchalantly after she’d single handedly brought down the mood. “Text me how much it costs, then text me again once you’re sure that you want in.”

She doesn’t even wait for you, doesn’t even look at you; she just turns on her heel and leaves. And for a moment, you sit there in awkward silence with Shin Yuna. You can’t help but feel bad for the poor girl who’d just been subjected to unwarranted coldness; and you want to comfort her, but you don’t know how. With a sigh, you take the straw out of your cup, bring the glass to your mouth and down the rest of your latte. Yuna’s eyes stayed trained on her own latte, which was close to untouched. She watches as a single drop of condensation rolls down the side of the glass, landing on her coaster and getting absorbed into the material. 

“The band’s… Not as bad as she makes it sound,” you pipe, pausing for a brief moment to consider your words carefully. “Yeji tends to be a little… Mean sometimes.” Now that she has her eyes on you, you can’t help but feel a little shifty in your seat. She’s the type of girl that turns heads when she walks down the street, the type of girl that could probably get scouted by a model agency just by standing at a bus stop and looking at her phone. Not that her gaze is piercing or anything, but it’s just that she’s a little too breathtaking to make you feel okay sitting opposite her in a one on one. “Don’t think too much about it. I think you’ll make a great fit in the band.”

And then you decide to leave. It’s with great embarrassment that you state that you should take your leave, and it’s with great clumsiness and lack of grace that you stand up, bump your knee against the table, mutter a small and push your chair in before making a beeline for the door. The bell on the door chimes as you pull the door open, and it chimes again when you step out, and again when you close the door shut behind you—almost like it was laughing at you. So much for not being awkward. 

“Thought you’d stay in there for a little longer.”

Hearing Yeji’s voice makes you jump, and you turn to find her petting the cat at the windowsill of the cafe. She isn’t even looking at you, not even a glance in your direction as you walk up to her and stop just before her. 

“What the hell was that in there?” you can’t help but question. “You make us sound like we’re a fucking concentration camp while simultaneously making her feel like shit. How the fuck do you even do that?”

She gives the cat one last scratch between the ears, and the feline purrs under her touch. She rises from her squatting position and looks you in the eye. “That’s why I brought you here: to make her feel better.” She lets that linger in the air for a bit. “Okay. I’m going home.”

And she walks right past you like you aren’t going to be traveling in the same direction as her. A grunt of frustration slips out of your lips as you turn and catch up with her, matching her pace step for step. 

“Did you seriously think,” you ask as you match her stride, “that a small ‘it’s alright’ from me would be enough to make her join?” 

“Yep.”

“You’re fucking unbelievable.”

“Same goes for you.”

“What?”

The two of you stop at the traffic light, and she takes the time to adjust her hair over her shoulder and crack her neck like there isn’t someone talking to her on her immediate left. At this point, you are as good as a ghost to her.

“Why can’t you just be nice for once?” you don’t bother hiding the aggression in your tone, nor did you ever intend on doing so. “Is it really that hard? Do we have to go through a trial to earn your kindness?”

The light turns green and she puts away her phone. “I’m only nice to the people I trust, and neither you nor Yuna fall into that category.”

You bite your tongue, and you stay where you are as she walks across the road. She doesn’t look back, and you never expected her to. This conversation is hardly worth your time and emotional battery. You’re better off talking to some moss ball behind a dumpster, and the silence that you’ll receive is more welcoming than anything Hwang Yeji will ever say.

And so you walk elsewither from where she’s going and you just walk. You know for a fact that there’s no point in fuming over her behavior, and there’s definitely no point in figuring out how to get to her. Instead, you walk down a stretch of shops, letting your eyes wander across the various items that are being displayed at the windows: the jewelry, the clothes, the facial products, the bags, the—

Someone calls your name, and her voice is all too familiar. You’ve heard it just recently, over the phone with club music blaring over her voice. So yeah: you don’t need to turn to know who's made you stop in your tracks, but you do just because you need to see it to believe it

Kim Minju looks dazzling in her outfit:a set of black and short shorts that cover up the skin that’s exposed beneath the shirt-dress she wears. The lime green knitted Prada bag she has in her hands is a little bit jarring, a tad out of place on her monochrome outfit, and you guess that she probably grabbed it in a rush to get out of the house. Still: it looks like a purposeful mismatch, and perhaps your sense of fashion is just so bland that you simply just can’t appreciate the complexity of her outfit.

“Hey,” she greets—a mix of shock and surprise and glee on her face as she takes small steps towards you. It isn’t that big of a distance to cross, and she’s right in front of you in two-to-three small steps. She stops for a moment, lets her eyes wander across your face for a bit. “Didn’t expect to see you again so soon.”

“Same goes for you,” you tell her. “Thought we’d just rub shoulders in the club and call it a day.”

Minju giggles, fidgets a little with the strap of her bag that sits nicely on her small shoulder. “You uh… you going somewhere?”

“Well um…” it’s hard to phrase what exactly it is you’re doing right now, because: a) you don’t exactly have a set location in mind and; b) you don’t know how to tell her that you were going away from somewhere that you were going to just now—ugh, it’s confusing to even think about. In the name of reducing the complications of your explanation, you opt for the best response you can possibly give at the moment: “No. Not really. How about you?”.

It’s not a lie; it’s half of the truth… Sort of? Ah fuck, why bother fretting over it?

She smiles, a toothless one where the corner of her lips gets tugged up by a set of invisible strings. It’s a charming little smile, and you have to admit that you love seeing the way it makes her eyes glimmer a little. “I just met my groupmates, and before you ask: it was a horrible session.”

You chuckle. “My condolences.” You rub your palms against your jeans as you speak, “must suck to be the smartest person in the group.”

She’s consistently been the brightest person in the room, perfect GPA, Valedictorian and everything. Sure: she already stands out because of her looks, but her smarts make her the whole package deal. The whole reason you met her in the first place was because you were failing Chemistry so badly in your first year that the teacher had to get her and her straight-As to step in and tutor you. She did a pretty good job, pulled your marks up from an E to a B and kept it there. 

“Oh shut up,” she sighs, though the smile on her face never fades, “you know I hate it when you say shit like that.”

“Do you? Could’ve sworn that you lived off compliments back then.”

She clicks her tongue in annoyance, slaps your shoulder with the back of her hand. She hasn’t changed one bit. “Fuck you. You always were too damn cheeky.”

You shrug in response. She pushes back a strand of hair.

“You wanna grab a coffee?” Her question is one you’ve expected from the moment you bumped into her. 

“I just had a latte, but I wouldn’t mind getting a Croissant.”

***

“You were one mark away from an A—this close to breaking your B streak.”

“It was an A in technicality. Careless mistakes that fuck me over don’t count, Minju.”

“Tell that to the Chemistry department then.”

“I think they would've dunked me in a vat of acid.”

“What type of Acid? Can you still remember which ones can melt skin off bone?”

“Welcome back Little Miss know-it-all.”

“The information will save you one day, mark my words.”

“Well I doubt I’ll ever come into contact with skin-melting Chemicals any time soon.”

“Don’t jinx yourself.”

“Hey, don’t tell me that when you were the one who was dubbed ‘bearer of bad news’.”

“It’s not my fault that I always have to relay the bad news to the class! I was the fucking class president!”

“Oh right.”

“Oh right. You sound so stupid.”

“Says the one giving me a lecture.”

“I’d hardly constitute this as a lecture.”

“Look at you using big words.”

“I’m going to throw this fucking coffee at you.”

“It’s a good latte. I wouldn’t recommend you wasting your money like that.”

“You’re a child.”

“Aren’t we all young at heart?”

“Young at heart is one thing. Immaturity is another.”

“I’d argue that you’re the immature one here.”

“Says the one who’s always getting himself involved in some shit every other day.”

“I wouldn’t blame that on my immaturity.”

“So you do admit that you’re immature.”

“Now you’re just putting words into my mouth.”

“It’s not my fault that you say stupid things.”

“But it’s you that uses my stupid things to… Fuck. That won’t sound right.”

“Did you just lose your train of thought mid sentence?”

“I was running what I was about to say through my head.”

“You do that while you speak? You’re so weird.”

“Oh so you’d rather me spit out nonsense all the time?”

“Yea, so I can insult you over it.”

“Ugh. You’re so kind Minju.”

“Thank you. I pride myself with my heart of gold.”

“The same one that made you a pushover with your ex?”

“We both know that he manipulated me.”

“And you kept making excuses with him because you refused to see the bad in him.”

“Okay, I admit that that was a bit of a misplay on my end.”

“You dated him for two years.”

“I didn’t want to be lonely, okay? Everyone in the damn friend group was dating, I felt left out!”

“But we were in healthy relationships. Yours looked like the physical embodiment of type two diabetes.”

“Oh. So you’d consider your relationship with Kim Chaewon a healthy one?”

“It was till… You know.”

The silence that follows is deafening, and Minju’s smile fades.

“Shit. I went a little overboard with that one,” how apologetic she sounded made you feel bad. Not that you ever intended to be a wet blanket, but the hesitance in your voice must have killed the mood or something. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to—”

You waved it off. “All jokes,” you assure her with a forced smile. “Nothing was or has been taken to heart. I promise.”

She purses her lips, and when she parts them, they make a small smack. You take a moment to take another stab at your croissant and send another bit into your mouth. And yes: it does taste as good as it looks. 

“How are things with you and her anyway?” She asks, setting down her half-full glass of latte. “Are you guys doing alright? Talking now?”

You imagine the look of shock on her face when you tell her that you made out with your ex and fucked her after you took her home, and make the executive decision to skip the details and give her a more vague (and untrue)  answer: “We’re uh… Reconciling I guess.”

She nods, and you can’t tell if it’s one of approval or one of disappointment. She’d been the number one supporter of your relationship with Chaewon; imagine her shock when you told her one fine morning over the phone that the two of you had broken up.

“Forgive me for continuing on this subject, but,” the addition of that but really spoke volumes of how she wasn’t gonna let you interject, even if you really wanted to just stop talking about it. She’s not one to be self-centred, but when she has something to say, you have a guaranteed earnings if you bet on the fact that she’ll get it out one way or another. You always let her get away with it, only because you have a bit of a soft spot for her, and she has a bit of a soft spot for you too—you did spend a large amount of time in your first year of highschool in the library with her after all. “I always thought that you and Chaewon would be, you know, a ‘forever couple’.”

“Well I’m sorry we ruined your drama fantasies,” you reply, trying to bring the conversation back to the light-hearted talk it was just a couple of minutes ago. “Some things just don’t work out in the end—the relationship was just one of those things.”

This time, you decode her nod as one of understanding and sympathy. “Well… As long as you’re okay now.” she rolls her straw between her forefinger and thumb, watching as it twists left and right in her fingers and disturbs the latte before her. “You seem to be doing well with your whole band gig and all.”

“You could say that.” You set down your fork and dab the corners of your mouth with a napkin while you swallow the rest of your croissant. “Chaewon and I will learn to… Coexist eventually. I hope so at least.”

“You guys better sort it out,” she muses. “I doubt I can keep baby-sitting her at the club for much longer. I have a life too, you know?”

“I feel like that’s more of a problem for her to settle than us.” you’re barely hiding the disdain in your voice as you stare at crumbs that are left on your plate. “It’s not my problem if she gets drunk. She made the choice to go drinking herself.”

“But you made it your problem just a day ago,” Minju points out. 

“Only because it was the only way to get her out of that damn club.”

“You could’ve chosen not to come.”

“And leave you guys to deal with her?”

“It was me and Eunbi. We could’ve dragged her out.”

“But—“

“Just admit that you actually cared. You and I both know that you’re too much of a fucking sweetheart to ever let someone struggle when you can help.”

And she stumps you with that one, because you don’t know how to reply to that. Is that a compliment or an insult? Frankly, you didn’t know, but you do know that you’re surprised by the fact that anyone can ever use the word sweetheart in such an aggressive manner. It’s like telling someone you love their outfit before punching them in the face. 

Okay, maybe not that extreme… But you get the gist.

“Maybe I did have a soft spot for her,” you mused. It’s half self-realisation, half-reply. “But even so: you guys would go through all nine circles of hell just to get her up and out of the club.”

Minju draws her lips into a thin line. She lifts her straw to her mouth, lets it hover just in front of her lips for a bit, then places the glass back down on the table heavily. A small, substantial thump sends a small tremor through the table. She stares into her glass. “What even happened when you took her home anyway?”

You shrug and put down your fork to wipe your mouth—actions that mask the fact that you want to cringe at yourself over what happened. You’ve done a lot of lying today (what would your mother say?), and you’re pretty sure that all of this will come back and bite you in the ass some day. But for now, you’d like to save yourself some embarrassment as you say, “Helped her with her hangover. Gave her a meal. Then she left.”

Minju looks at you for a moment. Then she sighs and shakes her head.

“You’re too kind for your own good,” she mutters. Her fingers stay wrapped around her glass as she speaks, beads of condensation slowly running down the clear walls of her cup and sliding down her knuckles. She raises her head, just enough to establish eye contact with you. “Then again: your soft little heart was the reason I had a crush on you.”

Okay. She skipped a lot of ground there.

You blink. You blink again. She stares straight into your eyes throughout—doesn’t break eye contact or anything. Not that you didn’t take her seriously, but just that you were a little… Well, stunned.

“Bottom line: you care about her. Don’t let her manipulate you okay?” Minju tells you, finally raising the star to her mouth and taking a nice long sip from her latte. When the straw is released from between her lips, she smacks her lips in satisfaction and leans back in her seat. You’re still staring if anyone’s asking, and yes: you are indeed thinking, what the fuck?

Minju shoots you a look of disdain. “What?” she asks as she straightens the collar of her shirt dress. “Why are you looking at me like that? Cut it out.”

Okay: aside from the fact that you’re shocked by the fact that she isn’t addressing the elephant in the room (the one that she placed there by her damn self), you’re reeling over the fact that she’s just casually dropped this hell-of-a piece of news on you like it was just an update on life or something; oh I used to like, you know, see you more than just a friend, but no biggie.

You blink. You blink again. She grabs the straw and tosses it out of the glass, gulps the rest of her latte in a single swallow and wipes her lips with the back of her hand. 

“If you’re wondering if the feelings are still there, the answer is no,” she tells you, picking up a napkin to clean up the corners of her mouth. “The keyword was had you big dummy. Stop thinking so much about it. You look stupid.”

The faculties to reply return to you, but you can’t do much but sputter a very confused wha? as Minju examines her nails for a bit. She smirks, then grabs her bag and rises from her seat. 

“If my news is killing you that bad, why don’t we talk about it over a nice dinner?”

***

True to her word, she does open up about everything over the course of the meal, albeit after a couple of glasses of wine.

“You were so cute and so damn loveable,” she muses, unashamed as she pours herself another glass. She took you to some nice restaurant a few streets away, and you’re kinda regretting your decision to eat that croissant for tea because fuck does the food here taste good. Minju settles into her seat, glass in hand as she stares at the scarlet liquid. “You bought me dark chocolate on my period, got me a snack after we had a session because I was hungry… You’re pretty fucking handsome too, you know that?”

All of this is, of course, news to you, and you’re struggling to internalise the fact that she would ever think about you in such a way. Your own wine glass has remained full for the entire duration of your meal, and you choose this time to take a sip to help you process all of… Well, this. 

“So… How long did you, you know, like me?” you can’t help but ask. Not that it was the first question on your mind or anything, but more of the fact that you needed to say something to prevent this conversation from descending into awkward silence. Comfortable was the last word you’d use to describe how you feel. 

“Huh…” Minju mutters. She swirls her glass for a bit. She takes a sip, swirls more. Her gaze turns inwards and her mouth moves in a soundless count. “If you don’t count the summer break where I figured out that I wanted nothing more but to kiss you? About a year and a half.”

You do the maths in your head and come to an epiphany. Minju beats you to it and verbalises your thoughts: yea, yea… I liked you while you were dating Chaewon, which means that I liked you when I was dating that deadbeat baseball player, which meant I was unfaithful by technicality, but I stuck with that sick fuck to try and make you jealous.

Frankly, you’re not too sure why you are being thrown into emotional situations with people of your past over the course of the last two days. You want this to be some sort of dream, and you want, so badly, for Minju to burst out laughing and hit you with a, this was all a joke! I just wanted you to accompany me for dinner, that’s all, and call it a day. Maybe you two could get ice cream afterwards, laugh this silly prank off on a bench somewhere and then bid farewell for the night. But judging from the way Minju stares solemnly at her plate, you can pretty much infer with full confidence that she means every word she says. Even as she chews her steak slowly, you can feel her lingering on some thoughts that she won’t verbalise—not now at least. Maybe she’ll text you about it a couple weeks for months down the road, and all of this will just resurface for, like, a day or two at most. Bottom line: she’s pretty serious about everything she just said, and she’ll most likely remind you of this conversation in this nice restaurant that you can never come back to again. The food is nice but it's nowhere in your tax bracket. 

“So uh,” Minju brings your attention back to her. She leaves you hanging for a bit as she pokes a cherry tomato with her fork and sends it into her mouth. You hear a soft crunch as she chews, and you can’t help but feel a little bit uncomfortable with the presented silence that follows. She dabs the corners of her lips with a napkin. She swallows. “About what happened with Chaewon after you took her to your place: did you leave out the part where you fucked her in the ass on purpose? Or did she drug you and you forgot everything?”

And it feels like time freezes as she picks up her wine glass and gulps down the rest of the scarlet liquid in there. When she looks at you with those piercing, knowing eyes, you wonder how much she knows about you and Chaewon; what does she know and what are the details she has sitting in some locker in the corners of her mind. 

“Chaewon has a pretty big mouth you know,” Minju remarks, a small—almost mocking—pout on her lips as she plays with the vegetables on her plate. “She tells me just about anything and everything that goes on in her life, just saying.”

So that’s enough to tell you that she knows more than she should. You wonder if there are any other people Chaewon runs her mouth to.

“If you’re gonna call me a loser, just do it,” you mutter. You suddenly find the urge to down the rest of your wind irresistible. You act on your impulse, and you grimace a little as the alcohol burns your throat on the way down. It’s probably not recommended to consume liquor the way you are drinking it right now, but you couldn’t care less at this point. You kind of need this drink right now. This day has been full of unexpected things: unexpected meetings to unexpected feelings to god knows what else is on its way. “But before you say anything, she started it. I was the victim.”

Minju chuckles. You don;t really find anything about this entertaining right now, but there will certainly be an element of humour to this conversation that you will probably discover after some hindsight. Minju sets down her cutlery and folds her arms. “I understand”, she tells you, making sure to hold your gaze as she rests her cheek in her palm. “Trust me. Calling you a loser is, like, the 2nd thing on my mind right now.”

“And what’s the first?”

She looks left, then right, then leans in a little. “Was the sex good?”

Honestly, you shouldn’t be shocked. She’s always been a bit cheeky in nature, a little bit lickerish and maybe a little indecent. You’ve seen it, heard it, known it for the longest time—yet you can’t stop yourself from raising both eyebrows when she drops the question on you. MAybe it’s the lack of hesitance; the question coming right at you like a fastball after you gave her your end of the situation. It’s a little devious: the way she just gives it to you straight without any room for silence and pondering. You’ll give her that.

“I mean,” she continues, not even giving you time to even try and rationalise the question. “I imagine that her pussy’s already tight as fuck. Her ass? God I can only imagine what that was like for you.”

Now it’s getting a little confusing. The lines between wry and genuine interest are being blurred here, and you’re not even sure if this is really a conversation you’re having with her right now. Her bluntness and lack of consideration towards you is a little appalling given her remorse in the cafe. Maybe it’s the wine. Yea, it’s probably the wine…

“What the fuck?” Is all you can manage as you affix your gaze on her with a look of shock that could probably win you an award if this was a movie. Minju pushes back some hair, fingers deftly tucking them behind her ear as she fixes you with a look. You have no idea where this conversation is going, and you really, really hope that she doesn’t continue on this line of talk. Of course, you have a bad track record of getting what you wish for. 

Minju leans in even more, gets even closer. You’re not sure if you should move or do anything at this juncture. She cocks her head a little, smirks.

“Wanna find out if I’m a better fuck then her?”

***

Why did you follow her back to her apartment? You don’t even know. Best guess: you weren’t really thinking after she spoke and just went with it. Or maybe: you might have looked at her all weird and somehow ended up agreeing (she’s a sweet talker and you certainly wouldn’t put it past her). There are about ten possibilities that you can think of—eleven if you added the one that just formulated in your brain about a second ago—all of which are equally confusing and hard to fathom. It’ll take some time and probably a cup of coffee or two to figure out.

But focus up: there are a lot more pressing matters right now, matters like the fact that her lips are firmly pressed against yours while your back is against the closed and locked door of her apartment. Frankly, you don’t even know how the hell you two got locked in this kiss; could’ve sworn the two of you were just talking at the restaurant a couple of minutes ago. Everything’s a little hazy, and it’s a little worrying considering that you only had one or two… Maybe three? Yea, probably three… Let’s just say there was a couple more glasses of wine after she asked if you if she could potentially be a better fuck, and here you are now. It seems like your relationship with alcohol and women all lead to the same destination. It’s a problem for sure, but you can settle that later. 

There’s a rather loud smack as she removes her lips from yours—for air of course. Gazing deep into your eyes, she smiles as she tells you, god I’ve always wanted to do that, before she re-establishes the connection of lips. The kiss is aggressive: nothing short of fervent and definitely not holding back on the restraint. If there was a way to properly kiss someone, Kim Minju was certainly taking it up another step. Her tongue pokes through your lips, invades past your teeth and pushes itself deep into your mouth till it dances with yours. It’s starting to get a little messy, a little more raunchy and, uh… Well—you get the gist. Your brain’s certainly not functioning the way it should be. 

Are you drunk? Probably not.

She starts to pull you by the shirt—away from the door and towards the living room. Her place is pretty big, and there's enough space for the two of you to stumble and fumble around till you find a flat surface that you can proper her up on and spread her legs. The surface in question is a table. It’s probably her dining table, and it creaks as Minju undoes the clasp of her sheer shorts that really shouldn’t be classified as shorts in any world. The article of clothing comes off together with your jeans, and they’re both tossed aside before your hands are on her hips and pulling her towards you. Her ass slides over the wood, hissing as her skin drags along a small distance so that she can grip your face in her palms and crash her lips against yours. You close your eyes, enjoy the feel of her warm body pressing against yours while those gentle hands sink fingers into the flesh of your cheeks. A dark part of you takes a little pleasure in the pain.

“Fuck.” You love the lilt in her voice after she breaks the kiss. “I see why Chaewon likes to kiss you now,” she lets her hands roam across your face, brushing away the bits of your hair that fall in front of your eyes, almost as if she wants you to see her and only her. “You kiss so well. Feels like I’m kissing a marshmallow with lips.”

“Do I even want to know how you came up with that analogy?” you question. She grins.

“Just trust it. I did get a higher score than you in just about every subject except music.”

You chuckle. She goes in for a kiss; you make a beeline for the column of milky skin at her neck, savour the sharp inhale that sucks air through her teeth and sounds like more of a hiss. You kiss her jaw, trail it up to her neck then back down to her collarbone. Every touch of your lips on her skin makes her sigh.

“Try not to mark me where people can see,” she whispers. “There’s only so much skin that makeup can cover without ruining my outfits, and foundation is really fucking expensive these days.”

(Now there’s the debate of whether that was a challenge or a precautionary measure. She’s always been a bit of a cheeky one: trying people on and giggling as she does so. You’ve been the victim of her antics before, but it’s kind of hard to deduce whether she’s telling you, don’t do it or inviting you to leave hickeys all over her neck and wherever you could get your lips on.)

“And if I do?” you can’t help but ask. Minju chuckles and pushes you away by your shoulders.

“Don’t.” She’s firm when she says it, almost like she’s chiding you for ever considering it. For a moment, you look each other in the eye as your breaths poke holes through the silence. It’s a little chilling yet a little thrilling, and you can’t help but take in the way she looks in the dim light of the night. In the midst of stumbling in, neither of you ever considered turning on the lights. She’s painted in soft strokes of moonlight, eyes shimmering in the gentle glow of night. Beautiful. She’s always been so beautiful, but never this beautiful. “I know you want to, but don’t,” she reiterates. You’re a little disappointed, but there are, of course, other ways to leave your mark on her.  

And so your hand snakes down and finds its way between her parted legs. Your other hand slithers around that small waist, and it holds her in place as your fingers press against the fabric of her panties. In your arms, she tenses—bristles as you start to feel the outline of her lips against your fingertips. You increase the pressure against her heat. Minju tilts her head back and moans.

Fuck. You don’t think you’ve ever heard such a sound: angelically filthy, airy and soft. It’s already hard enough to grasp the concept of her, one of your closest friends that you haven’t seen in a few good years or so, propped up on her own dining table while you trace the outline of her pussy through her panties and leave her squirming atop the wooden surface. Add the small choked up cries she’s making into the mix and by God do you have a recipe for a haze. Where to begin? This situation shouldn’t be real at all; none of this should be real, this should be a dream. This heat against your fingers. The sight of her mouth parted and her body twitching with each stroke of your fingers. The very realisation that this is as real as it gets, and it’s unfolding right before you by the second.

“Why are you so fucking wet?” you ask, noting the way she shudders as you let your finger hover over the base of her opening for a bit. Her thighs—pale skin painted in the lightest shades of moonlight—twitch in anticipation, almost as if the blood in her veins is loading up inside there and would shoot forward the moment you start moving again. She can’t predict what you’re gonna do next, and it’s killing her in a way that brings you this sick satisfaction. Minju whimpers; you chuckle. “Do you really want it this bad Minju? Has no one touched you like this before?”

(Her bottom lip quivers as she struggles to compose herself. She breathes: raspy and staccato. Strands of hair hang in front of her face, the same one that has this pleading look superimposed over bratty frustration. It’s hot, really satisfying and really challenging you take some liberties with her. Sure: it’d be really fun to just stuff her full of cock and just have your way with her right here and now, but where’s the fun in that? You’ve known her as this smart, preppy girl who’s always gotten what she wants because she’s smart and rich. You can't remember the last time you saw her fail. Maybe she did face a bit of a setback when she was starting out in university, but as far as you’re concerned, she’s in need of a bit of humbling.)

It’s all enough to drive anyone mad really. So you can’t really blame her when she cries oh god just fuck me already! at a volume that would probably get her a noise complaint from one of her neighbours. It’s a little jarring, and it makes you stop and look at her for a second or two. She looks back at you, giving you those fuck me eyes that you didn’t know she was capable of as she starts to bite down on her lower lip. 

With that face and that aura, she—whether unwittingly or not—painfully reminds you of Chaewon. That same bratty persona mixed with that undeniable look of need—it’s killing you to look her in the eye a she starts to grind herself against your fingers, pleading you to get on with it—please, please, please just strip me and fuck me and make me your good little toy—while she fixes you with that pleading look. Her doleful eyes coax you, and it feels dangerous to even look into them, let alone gaze into them as pulls you closer with her legs and grabs your shaft through your underwear.

“Tease me all you want later,” she squeezes your cock—sweet, sinful pleasure. Those weapons of a pair of eyes slice into the deepest depths of your mind, appealing to the darker part of you to let loose and take control. She wants it, needs it more than anything else right now. “You can finger me, eat me, whatever… Just put this fucking cock inside of me and make me scream before you do anything else.”

She’s given you a list of priorities, and they really speak volumes of her personality. Funnily enough, it’s pretty in line with her character: goal oriented and focused on that success rather than the process. You wonder what would happen if you refused to give her that final goal she so desperately craves; what it could do and to what extent would it break her. You take some time to consider this as you slip your hands into the spaces between the upper buttons of her shirt.

“Minju.” You call her name out of politeness in wake of what you’re about to ask her. “How much was this shirt?”

The glint in her eye when she catches your implicit message is enthralling. She pushes her bottom lip behind her front teeth; fixes you with this look that tells you that she's' about to say something that’s gonna satisfy your desires just because she can and she gets off on it.

“It’s Prada,” she tells you. “But I can always get another.”

You grin, and with more strength than intended, you pull against the fabric of the shirt. Unfortunate buttons go flying as the fabric parts forcefully like velcro ripping apart. Nothing tears (surprisingly), but the shirt is most definitely unwearable for a while. You hope she knows how to sow.

She gasps when the cold air of her apartment suddenly hits her skin. You can’t really blame her — it all comes in a rush after she is stripped from her sole piece of clothing. She takes a moment to assess the damage done to her clothes. Her eyes wander along the naked strip of fabric her shirt buttons once called home. Then she looks at you, smirks.

“Hot,” she muses, lowering herself down till she’s on her elbows. “But I think you can do better than that.”

You like a good challenge. And with not too much kindness in your voice, you tell her to get rid of the rest of her clothing. There’s a smouldering look in her eye, and a smirk on her face as she tosses her hair out of her face. Then while she holds your gaze, she hooks her fingers into the waistband of her panties and pulls them down — keeps going till there somewhere far enough down those long, creamy legs for her to kick them aside. 

“That was a limited edition piece, can’t have you tearing that,” she explains, looking at the freshly discarded article of clothing. “My bra though? I got it at a convenience store in Japan. Do your worst.”

The bra doesn’t survive. It’s a shame really… It looked kinda nice. 

And basking in your gaze is a very naked Kim Minju, her skin practically glowing on top of her table as she looks up at you with those eyes of want. You take a moment – admire the supple curves in all the right places and the way her skin seems to ripple a little as she shudders. Three’s no doubt in your mind that the surface she has her back against is cold as hell, but  Fuck… this probably was the best place to have her like this – she looks like a fucking meal.

“You know,” you whisper, your index finger roaming up her body – starting from the base of her belly button and making its way up an imaginary line that you’ve drawn on her body. “You’re kinda fucking perfect.”

She chortles. “Um… Contradictory much?”

“Spare me the lesson,” you mutter, cupping her cheek firmly yet tenderly. You have no idea what this feeling in your chest is right now, but you do know that it’s gonna take you down a path you never explored before. “Now I just wanna make a mess out of you.”

You don’t wait for a reply. Heck, you don’t even give her time to craft a reply. No teasing, no testing the waters; you just get your cock in your hand, line it up with her slit and pump yourself into her for the first time.

And even though she has this look of offence on her face, you know that this is probably the hottest thing she’s ever experienced. It’s a non-verbal statement that tells you that: her eyes burn with a heat you often see in Chaewon when she’s just being a downright bitch, yet her lips part and her head tilts back to let a moan be drawn out from the deepest parts of her. You don’t quite know how you’re processing these cues with the novel sensation of her hot cunt around your cock (it squeezes and pulses at just the right places that make you twitch inside her and it’s like… So fucking hot in there) that welcomes you into the depths of the woman beneath you. Every little thing is just hitting like a fucking sledge hammer now. You can feel her heat around you, burning like fire in this cold apartment. Alcohol must really be setting in.

Minju takes a moment to collect herself, and after she does, she looks at you to send another non-verbal cue your way. 

This one means fuck me.

This whole situation is far from sophisticated; a little more filthy than you care to admit. It’s not what you’re used to with the other women you’ve been with. Eunbi likes teasing, Ryujin likes to play around a little; Karina is just downright submissive, Yeji a little more subservient than she lets on; Chaewon is… well, Chaewon – bratty and really whiny when she fucks.

But Minju? This is a whole new chapter for you. 

First impressions tell you that she’s just downright needy; a little bratty like Chaewon as she starts to whine a little while you start pumping in and out of her slick heat. Her legs lock around your waist, feet crossed behind your back. She pulls you in each time you thrust into her – pulls you deeper into her warmth and moans a little louder when you hit the right spot. You match her speed, and soon you're thrusting her with firm, fast strokes. It makes her throw back her head for a bit, a cry leaving her straining throat as she sets rolls with this tempo.

Her torso remains supported on her elbows, her small breasts that sit proudly atop her chest bouncing with each smack of your crotch against hers. She realigns her gaze with yours. Her eyes stay wide open, gazing right into yours as she holds your attention with this debauched gaze that makes your mind fill with wild, wild thoughts. You’re fucking her on the table, but you’re thinking about what it’d be like to have her against the wall, against the counter, on her knees; riding you on her couch, jumping on your cock on her bed…  

This woman is gonna fucking ruin you.

“Chaewon said that the dick was fucking good,” she’s quipping between her moans, and you know it’s taking considerable effort for her. She has to close her eyes when she speaks, and in doing so she frees you from her hypnotic gaze. “No that it’s actually filling me… I think she could be downplaying how good you feel.”

And you have to smirk. “You think so ?”

Her eyes snap open, traps you yet again. “Do you have any idea how fucking hot you feel inside me?” she gasps. You have to admit that it sounds a bit more like she’s demanding you to figure out how good she feels right now/ ow fucking good your dick feels in my pussy? How–ngh… How good you fuck me?”

Emphasis on ‘fuck’ tells you that she likes this pace, this no-nonsense playing field that you’ve established from the moment you filled her for the first time. She never struck you as one to like it rough, someone who likes it when it kinda stings when you fill her. Then again, you didn’t expect her to hold feelings for you either, so you guess the world just has a bunch of mysteries that you have to unpack in your own time.

Currently, you’re just trying to unpack how fucking good she feels around you.

“You’re fucking filthy,” you hiss through your teeth. “Never knew Miss valedictorian liked being railed like this.”

She smiles through her pleasure – a half-curl upturn of the corners of her lips as she lets the sighs and gasps freely depart from her open lips. It would be a cute smile if it weren’t for the fact that you’re literally fucking her on the same surface she eats on. Not that she has any problem with it; it’s just kinda telling of how badly she wants you right now. Pretty hot honestly – feels a little dark but you like the fact that she just couldn’t wait and just found the nearest flat surface she could spread her legs for you on.

“I’ll let you in on something,” and it really looks like she’s pushing back moans in her throat. She isn’t very successful. Effort is commendable though. “As sweet as any girl looks, we all kinda like being fucked like a slut.”

You manage a chuckle. “And does that apply for you?”

You love the way her eyes gleam. She lets herself lie flat on her table. 

“That’s for you to find out.”

And you understand why she’s laid herself across the table for you. It’s an invitation to her body, a request for you to touch the parts of her and hold her like she’s yours. She’s watching you intently, waiting to see what you’ll do while you keep pumping in and out of her. You respond by grabbing her shoulders, pulling her up straight till her chest flushes against yours. Her hands wrap around your neck, her breath in your ear.

“Come on you pussy,” she drawls. “I’m not Chaewon or Eunbi, so stop fucking me like you’d fuck them.”

Your hands find purchase in the firm flesh of her ass. Your fingers dig into the skin.

Then you’re fucking her – hard, fast. It takes her by surprise, by storm. Her gasp is strained, her voice louder in your ear now that she’s dug her chin into your shoulder. Her arms tense around your neck, her thighs tighten around your waist. You can feel her start to tremble as she struggles to keep herself upright. She holds you tighter, closer. She starts to moan more than she gasps. Her sighs turn to whines, her whines to cries and then to keening. 

In a matter of seconds, she’s found herself lost in her own pleasure, willingly and blissfully letting herself slink beneath the steadily growing stream of perverse want and need that flows from her mouth. She doesn’t have any smart quips left in her, no lessons or lectures – just this burning ache for you and the meat between her legs. You can feel the throbbing in her pussy, hear the squelch of your cock sliding between her lips getting louder as you go faster. You want—so badly—to lose yourself in her warmth and her heat. You want nothing more than to just put your lips on hers and kiss her through this wave of passion you’re feeling. 

So—against her wishes—you put your lips on her neck, starting sucking. You sense hesitation in her body, but it quickly fades and she tips her head to the side. She lets you have your way with her, relenting against you and letting you nibble on her skin as you piston yourself in and out of her. 

“I hope you’re giving me something no other girl will experience,” she rasps. She’s shaking a little, her nails starting to dig into your back. “Fuck me like I’m the one that matters. I need it.”

You lift your lips off her neck. The skin is starting to change colour. “Minju,” you don’t know how you manage, but you just do. “You’re the best woman I’ll ever fuck.”

“Mhm?” she hums. It’s a little shaky and it’s high-key hot. “Is—mphm… is my pussy better than Chaewon’s?”

And there’s that common thread between her and your ex: that desire to know that they’re better than someone else. You’ll please her for tonight. “So much better.”

She quite literally twitches at that, reeling in the thought that she’s taking cock better than her friend ever would. “Ngh– am I tighter? Am I wetter?”

You move so that you can look her in the eye. “Shut up and let me fuck you, would you?”

The look in her eyes tells you that she’s proud of what she’s done. She lets her forehead press against yours. Her eyes close. “Okay… But only because I still kinda love you.”

How are you going to deal with her? With this?

You don’t. You dive back into the crook of her neck, lengthen your strokes into her. It’s all too much to handle right now. Too many emotions are in play; too many thoughts need attention. You just want her, no strings attached and no need to spout all this nonsense about love and wanting to be loved. You kinda hate her for it, so you fuck her harder. You don’t like that she’s bringing feelings into this like Chaewon, so you fuck her harder and harder till she’s almost crying. 

She loves it, every second of it.

“Yes,yes,yes…” you can tell that she’s trying not to lose it all together, or maybe you’re just projecting. You can’t shake the feeling that your silence in response to her confession tells her that you’re gonna let her live this fantasy down right now. “Oh god you… Oh my fucking god.”

For long minutes, there’s nothing on your mind except her. You love the way she tenses and relaxes in your grasp, how she lets her body respond freely to your movements; the way her milky, smooth skin starts to bead with sweat, her hair sticking to her back; how her voice is kinda hoarse, how her lips claim your earlobe and she bites a little. As much as she’s frustrating, she’s entrancing. She’s hot, admittedly tighter than some of the girls you’ve fucked but also charming in her own way. Her moans aren’t the guttural type you get out of Karina or Eunbi, but more like a gentle yet kinda sordid exclamation of pleasure. Her breath is hot on your skin, a little hotter than you expect, but hot nonetheless. Her slim figure rocks against you, jolting when you get yourself nice and deep in her cunt, turning her into a nice bundle of nerves.

“I… Fuck… I’ve wanted this for so long,” she gasps. “But you’re here, actually here and… Fuck you’re just so fucking hot.”

And you know that’s her way of telling you that you’re better in real life than you ever will be in her wildest dreams. She’s turned on by the fact that you’re here, in the flesh and fucking her the way she likes it. Even though she surrenders to you, she’s gotten her way tonight. You’re fulfilling her desires just by being here, and your rock hard shaft drilling its way inside of her is really just a cherry on top.

(She’s kinda right: as sweet as she is, she likes being fucked like a slut.)

Even though it’s kinda her fault, Minju is your distraction, your break from it all. You give in: lose yourself in her smell, in her skin, in her flesh.  You let yourself get absorbed in it all — her gasps, her cries; the way her pussy only gets tighter, the way her legs shake around you; the fire in your chest that drives your cock in and out of her cunt in firm, long strokes; the heat of her body against yours as she starts to tense in your grasp.

Then she’s cumming — a hot mess on her dining table as cock spears into her through her orgasm. Her walls clench around you, her nails claw at your back. She cries your name. She says she loves you over and over and over till the faculties of her speech give way and she goes a little slack in your arms. You revel in it, do your best to block out the parts that make you ache a little on the inside; fuck her through the wave of an orgasm she goes through and relish the feel of her tight pussy getting tighter and wetter. You don’t know how to put it into words, but all you can really say is that she’s fucking beautiful through it all – smutty art or maybe even straight up porn. 

When you join her, you don’t even ask if you can cum in her; she’s gotten enough of her way tonight. With a final few pumps into her, you relent to the tingling in your shaft and bury yourself inside her. Your grunt is rather guttural, your load hot inside of her slick wet cunt. She sighs, almost as if she’s welcoming it into her body. You savour the moment. It’s a treat for yourself. 

You stay like that for a bit — leaning against Minju and panting while you gather yourself again. She gently strokes your hair as she smiles at you, more than happy to keep you with her as you regain your bearings. 

And just because she can, she kisses you on the cheek.

You can’t meet her gaze much longer. You turn your gaze downwards as you remove yourself from her pussy, watching as the mix of your juices flow out of her freshly-fucked cunt. She hums as it flows down from her slit. 

“Forget what I said okay?” she requests, sounding remorseful as she takes your cheek in her hand. “You’re good at not taking things to heart, so do that for me, would you?”

You manage a small smile and nod. 

Then she kisses you, softly. 

“Thank you…” she breathes. “You just helped me delete some emails to you that I can never bring myself to send.”

***

You’re kinda in shambles to be honest.

Minju’s showering, which means that you have enough time to think about what your life has become. All these emotions are coming forth so suddenly, so quickly. You barely have time to process your school work and now this has come along and fucked you sideways. It makes your head hurt.

You decide to leave before she can get out of the shower. You can’t bear to see her again, but you do drop a text—Thanks for letting me crash. See you around—once you’re out of her apartment complex. You’re ashamed, but you were raised to know better than to leave without saying anything. But even though you do what you feel is right, something about what you’ve done doesn’t quite sit well with you. 

And you’re in the park when the realisation hits. On the bench, you bury your head in your hands.

You’ve done to Minju what Chaewon did to you.

Had this one sitting in the drafts for quit some time. Realised I actually never posted it so here it is I guess. Happy New Year everyone! Have this unedited work as a gift while I work on another fic because I can.