#and i had to go somewhere right after work without showering

[iamthecomet]

Come to Heel

Rating: E Pairing: Dew/Aeon Featuring: Boot Fucking, Mean!Dew, Aeon and Dew are both little shits in their own ways. Mutual masturbation. A lot of build up because that's what I like best. IDK Man it's boot fucking what do you want from me? Dew puts Aeon in his place. Word Count: 4k.

many thanks to @forlorn-crows for the title inspiration

If you want to impress me Aeon, you're going to have to do better than being a little shit. That doesn't work on me."

Aeon swallows. He's quiet for a moment—waiting to see if Dew really wants him to speak this time. Without instructions he's floundering. It's delicious. Dew wants to drown in this feeling, this power, the way Aeon crumples beneath him.

"What does?"

Dew tilts his head, considering. He clicks his tongue. Strokes his thumb along the sharp plane of Aeon's jaw. "Obedience."

Read it all on AO3 or under the cut.

The back bend is impressive. Dew has to admit that—though he'd be hard pressed to do it out loud. He watches the horns of Aeon’s mask kiss the stage as he flattens. Watched Aeon expose himself to stage lights. To Dew's hungry gaze. 

Dew stands closer every night. Boots creeping ever closer to the seam of Aeon’s uniform pants. 

He points, an order, and watches Aeon slide to his knees and tries not to wonder what that desperate compliance would look like somewhere else. 

Wonders if Aeon would bend and break for him like this on a hotel room carpet. 

It isn't like he hasn't had the opportunity. But Dew won't ask. If he does Aeon will have an ego about it. Aeon thinks he's hot shit and every side eyed glance inflates his ego that much more. Every caress. Every time he is whisked away into a hotel room to be played with like a new toy, he emerges cockier, more annoying. Glowing with self satisfied smugness that makes something grind together inside of Dew's chest. 

Dew refuses to participate. Refuses to add fuel to that fire. He will not build Aeon up, can't fathom why anyone would want to. Doesn't the little ghoul have enough confidence now? Doesn't he already think too highly of himself? Like Swiss without the actual experience to back it up. Dew's not playing into it—fuck that. When—not if—he gets his claws on Aeon this tour, he will break him. 

Dew seizes whatever opportunity he can get, knows Aeon will take that finger, pointed at the ground, as another flirtation. And later—when Aeon sidles up to him, cocksure and handsy, Dew slips away. Ignores him. Sliding out of the grip of those spindly fingers and not even sparing a look back at Aeon's confused face. 

Dew sets his trap. Over and over again. And Aeon kneels for him, night after night, falling every time Dew demands it. The screams from the crowd buoy Aeon even more, and of course Dew's sees it. He sees the way the praise lifts him higher and higher, until Aeon has placed himself on a teetering pedestal. 

And all the while, Dew waits for the exact right moment to knock Aeon’s wavering tower out from under him. 

It's mid-tour. Dew barely knows what day it is, each of them blending together with long bus rides, and a revolving door of hotels and catered meals. He feels perpetually dirty. Coated in a fine film of sweat no matter how long he spends in scalding showers each night. 

Aeon's been driving him crazy all day. Something about what happened the night before. A sign with his name on in the crowd maybe. Or that human girl at the bar who was clinging to his arm for an hour before he finally let himself be dragged away from the bar at the hotel and up to a strangers room. Whatever it is, the extra attention has made Aeon unbearable to be around.  Dew's been thinking about strangling him all day. 

Dew watches him out of the corner of his eye through an excruciating bus ride, and a sound check that feels like it is never going to end. Watching as Aeon bats his eyes at every single person he comes in contact with. A guy who works for the venue has been waiting on Aeon hand and foot all day—water, food, new guitar strings, whatever Aeon can ask for the man goes running for it. And Dew can't help but wonder  if Aeon isn't using just a little quintessence on him. 

It doesn't really matter though. Because Dew sees the way Aeon keeps looking at him. Gaze casting toward him like he's hoping Dew is going to praise him too. Like he so desperately wants Dew to be proud of him—wants Dew to engage in the "Everything Aeon Does is Perfect" show—and Dew won't. Dew pretends he doesn't exist, and watches Aeon wobble on his self-made pedestal. Watches him get closer and closer to the edge. 

Dew scents it like blood—the desperation on him. It's only a matter of time. Soon, Dew knows. Tonight, preferably. The ache between them has risen to a fever pitch. Aeon thinks he wants to win, but Dew knows the truth. 

All Aeon really wants—is for Dew to make him lose. 

So, when one of the roadies hands out hotel key cards, Dew trades with Mountain. 

"I'll take the kid tonight," Dew says like he's taking one for the team. He knows Mountain will be game—especially since Dew was originally paired up with Cumulus. Mountain doesn't hesitate, swiping the card out from between Dew's fingers. 

"Bad deal for you," Mountain says, tucking the key in his back pocket lest Dew come to his senses and change his mind. 

Dew shrugs, "I have my reasons." 

Mountain raises two dark brows and shakes his head like he knows better than to ask.  "He'll be happy though—been complaining that you never room with him." 

Dew smiles—wolfish—victorious. "Good." 

"Go easy on him."

Dew shakes his head, barks out a laugh almost devoid of humor. "He's so eager to take it. Why not give it to him and see if really can?" 

"Dew—"

"Don't look at me like that you know he'll love it." 

Mountain scrubs a hand over his face.  "He just wants you to like him, you know."

"I'll like him better with my—"

Dew cuts himself off as Aeon rounds the corner toward them, sauntering. "308, what about you guys?" 

Dew flashes the matching card between his fingers. "You're stuck with me tonight, Bug." 

Dew feels something treacherous slip into his gut when Aeon smiles like the sun has just come out. He bounces on the balls of his feet as the grin widens. And Dew reads all of it, the golden retriever excitedness. The way Aeon thinks this is just an another opportunity to stroke his own ego—that he will have an ego to stroke at all once Dew's done with  him.

"We're going to have so much fun," Aeon says, slinging his arm around Dew's shoulder and enveloping him in the smell of ozone and Swiss' weed. 

"Yeah, Bug," Dew says, wrapping an arm around Aeon's waist, digging his  nails into the space beneath his ribs hard enough to make Aeon jolt against him. When he tries to pull away, Dew holds him fast, solid, fingers digging wicked bruises into soft skin. "We are." 

Dew gets back to their hotel room long before Aeon. He left him with the others in the bus, everyone hovering somewhere between high on adrenaline and fading fast from exhaustion. Dew shoulders his overnight bag and slips out of the bus and into the hotel before anyone else has mustered the energy to get up—to separate. 

Dew has enough time to shower and redress and watch half an episode of something mindless on TV before he hears the key card in the lock.  He wants a cigarette—he settles for cinnamon gum instead, grinding it between his teeth as the door swings open. Dew's stretched out long on top of the bedspread. Fully dressed in ripped black jeans, a black band T, and his boots. Not the stage ones—Papa had a fit the last time Dew liberated those from the costume trailer. Just his well worn docs instead. The ones he takes just as diligent care of as he does his guitars. The leather supple, flexible from years and miles of wear. 

Aeon's eyes flick down Dew's body, they linger on those boots for far longer than Aeon realizes. Dew watches the way Aeon swallows, the way his eyes dart up and away when he realizes he's been caught.  He watches the mask slide back into place—cocky, over-confident, but nervous all the same. Desperate for Dew's approval despite how flippant he pretends to  be. 

Dew doesn't have to feign nonchalance, it comes naturally. He regards Aeon as if bored. 

"You gonna close the door or…?"

Aeon startles into motion, snicks the door shut behind him and tosses his overnight bag on the floor somewhere near Dew's. 

"Are you…are we going out?"

"No," Dew says, eyes flicking away from Aeon and back to the TV. There's some mindless decorating show on. Dew watches as some truly atrocious tile is laid in the entryway of an otherwise beautiful Victorian house. He watches Aeon in the periphery. 

He's off balance now. Looking at Dew like he's a puzzle he can't solve because he's missing most of the pieces. Dew looks back over at him when he starts to feel the way Aeon as staring at him. 

"What?"

"You're…you're wearing your boots." 

"I am."

"Why?" Aeon blinks, confused, body pulled taut like he is remembering the way Dew pulled him closer. Like he is finally deciphering what Dew meant when he said they'd have fun. 

Dew swings his legs off of the bed and stands in one fluid motion that has Aeon taking one stumbling step back. They are basically the same height but Dew feels tall like this. Feels like he towers over Aeon despite being able to look him directly in the eye. Aeon folds so easily, so quickly, the same way he does when they're on stage and Dew points at the ground. 

He stands so close he can feel the magic wafting off of Aeon in nervous waves. Can smell it. Can see the way his pulse flutters, panicked—turned on—at his throat. 

Dew chews his gum, looks at Aeon. They're standing close enough to kiss, close enough for Dew to drag his nose along the length of Aeon's if he wants to. Close enough for him to fist his hand into the hair at the back of Aeon's skull and put him where he wants him. He doesn't have to though. Aeon doesn't need a firm hand, he just needs a little direction. 

Dew motions toward the floor. A gesture not quite as pointed as the one he makes on stage, but the meaning is still crystal clear. Aeon takes a breath—hesitates only that long—before his knees are folding underneath him, dumping him onto the ground. 

He looks up at Dew, blinking, eyes wide, facade already melting. Aeon will be good for him because all Aeon wants, really, is to be good. 

"See how easy that is," Dew says softly, carding his hand into Aeon's hair. He pets him gently. Scratches his nails across Aeon's scalp until Aeon purrs softly, eyes fluttering closed. "You don't have to act like a prick to get my attention."

Aeon's eyes open, just a little. Heavy lidded and lined with exhaustion and a false sense of safety. "It worked."

Dew barks out a laugh—humorless. It's a dangerous enough sound that Aeon goes rigid at his feet. Dew feels the clench in his jaw against the meat of his palm. "You think it worked. You think that's why you're here? You think I'm going to be nice after all of that?" 

Aeon whimpers, eyes snapping open fully this time, air huffing out of his nose. "Dew—"

"What? What were you hoping for here, bug? That I'd kneel for you? That I'd take you apart nice and slow? That you'd get worship after that shit?" Dew's grip on Aeon's hair turns cruel. 

"I thought—"

"That's the problem."  Dew's hand drags down, out of Aeon's hair, down the curve of his cheek to curl  under his chin, tipping Aeon's head back further. Dew feels the beat of Aeon's pulse against his fingers. He tries not to get hard about it—not yet—not while Aeon is eye level with it and will know. "You thought. If you want to impress me Aeon, you're going to have to do better than being a little shit. That doesn't work on me." 

Aeon swallows. He's quiet for a moment—waiting to see if Dew really wants him to speak this time. Without instructions he's floundering. It's delicious. Dew wants to drown in this feeling, this power, the way Aeon crumples beneath him. 

"What does?"

Dew tilts his head, considering. He clicks his tongue. Strokes his thumb along the sharp plane of Aeon's jaw. "Obedience." 

Aeon makes a pitiful noise. Wounded. And something dangerous turns over in Dew's stomach. 

"Will you be good?" 

Aeon's breath hitches, he nods before the words are even fully out of Dew's mouth. Dew digs his fingers into Aeon's cheeks, feels the ridges of his teeth through them, tries not to grin. He's hard against his zipper now—obvious no matter how much he wishes he could hide it. It isn't like it makes a difference. Aeon's glassy eyed already and they haven't even begun. There are times when Dew's obvious interest could stack the deck against him—this isn't one of them. 

The next handful of minutes are borderline clinical. Dew steps back, out of Aeon's range and plants himself on the edge of the bed. Knees wide, feet planted on the carpet. Dew turns the TV off and tells Aeon to strip, and he leans back on his hands as he watches Aeon peel off his sweatshirt, his t-shirt. He kicks his shoes somewhere near their bags, almost tripping over himself in his haste to get his jeans off. All the while, Dew studies him; chews his gum; waits. 

"All of it," Dew says, needlessly, once Aeon is standing there in just his boxer briefs. He's hard too, Dew's eyes catch on the darkening spot of fabric above the head of Aeon's cock. He watches it pulse through the cotton, catalogs it as ammunition in case he needs it. Aeon can pretend all he wants that he wants to be in control. All the words in the world don't matter when his body betrays him. 

The quint ghoul listens, hooking his thumbs into the elastic and divesting himself of the last of his clothing. Dew points to the space between his knees and Aeon is there. A little more of his arrogance has returned, he sinks to his knees fluidly, eyes on Dew's as he does like he's hoping to see a crack in the facade. To find Dew's desire laid out plain on his face. When he doesn't get it, the expression flickers, just a little. It's enough for Dew to feel the heat of it deep in his gut. 

Aeon tries again, leans in, breathes hotly against Dew's zipper. Mouths up along it. Dew can feel the heat of him through the denim, the staccato bursts of breath. 

He reaches forward, and maybe Aeon thinks it's to pull him closer, because the noise Aeon makes when Dew fists a hand in his hair and yanks him away is pure shock—surprise. A startled yelp, eyes going wide as the last bit of hope to flip the script dies in them. 

"Did I tell you that you could touch?" 

Aeon shakes his head as best as he can with Dew's hand still held tight in his hair. "No but—I thought you—I just wanted to—"

"If we're going to play, Aeon, it's by my rules. Ask first." 

"Can I…?"

"No." 

"But—"

"I didn't say I'd say yes did I? Just that you should ask." Dew lets go and Aeon slumps forward, spine curving. He tucks his hands against his bare thighs, drops his gaze to the floor, his cock, Dew's boots. Dew doesn't move. Doesn't inch closer or reach out to sooth the ache away from Aeon's face. The room falls quiet. Dew can hear the TV on in the room  next door; the distant blare of a car alarm; a siren; Aeon's breath. 

"What can I do then?" Aeon asks, quietly but not dejected. Not deterred. "I don't know the rules—I don't—"

Dew clicks his tongue, takes one moment of pity on the little ghoul slumped between his knees. When he touches him this time, it's gentler. A calloused hand cradling his cheek, a thumb dragging over cool dry lips. Aeon raises his gaze to Dew's face and they search each other. Dew for any more signs of Aeon's arrogance—his petulance, and  Aeon for a clue, for mercy. 

"Don't worry, Aeon," Dew whispers, softer now that he knows the fight has drained from Aeon. Knows that Aeon has fallen into step—that he will play whatever game Dew wants. And really all Dew wants is pleasure, for both of them, in spades. "I'll teach you." 

When he folds over himself to kiss Aeon, Aeon surges up to meet him. Dew sweeps his tongue into Aeon's mouth and Aeon tastes like adrenaline, like the stage on a good night, like ritual and worship and the feeling that settles under his skin when the crowd is really good. He tastes like magic. 

Dew pulls back, holds Aeon in place with a hand on his jaw. He keeps his eyes closed as he whispers "I want to watch you cum" into the minuscule space between them. 

Aeon rears back, eager to please. One hand finding his cock, the other steadying himself on Dew's thigh. Dew shifts, presses the toe of his boot into Aeon's wrist. The hand on his cock stutters to a stop. Aeon looks up at him, head tilted. 

"No hands." 

Aeon blinks, looks away as he tries to piece together exactly what Dew wants. Dew nudges his wrist again and Aeon's hand falls away. Dew settles his boot against Aeon's thigh, a steady pressure. 

A hint. 

Aeon, bright as he is, blinks up at Dew through lidded eyes. He's hazy already, pupils blown wide, each blink slow and syrupy. Satanas, he always falls so fast once he strarts. He fights tooth and nail for agency but the second he realizes it's out of his reach he drops like a stone into the center of the lake. It makes Dew feel insane to have this kind of an effect on Aeon. Fills him with a feral power that makes him fell dangerous—like he has ascended to one of the thrones of hell and the entire circle is at his mercy. 

Aeon heaves in a breath, his eyes dart down to Dew's boot pressed where milky skin of his thigh is already going red—then violet as Aeon looses the last grips on his glamour. He looks back up at Dew—then down again. 

"I don't—"

"You've thought about it," Dew tells him. It's not a question, and Aeon's nodding as soon as Dew starts to speak. "You practically beg me for it every night on stage. And now that I'm giving it you, you don't want it?" 

Aeon shakes his head. "It isn't that. I just…" Aeon trails off, his eyes dip away from Dew's face, go back to the carpet. Back to where his cock has started to soften from lack of attention between his legs. Dew nudges it with the toe of his boot and the noise it drags from Aeon makes him feel like he's going to light himself on fire. 

"You just what?" Dew prompts. 

"Don't know how," Aeon's voice is quiet, a whisper, an admission that tips the playing field that much more in Dew's direction. 

"Course you do." Dew drags the toe of his boot down, then up, the length of Aeon's cock. It twitches in attention. Aeon hisses out a breath, his eyes flutter. "Take what you need. That's all you have to do." 

They both go quiet; still except for the slow pass of Dew's boot up and down. Gentle, a barely there touch that has Aeon shuddering beneath him. Hardening against the rubber. And then Aeon moves. His legs spread a little more, he leans back, bracing himself on one hand. His head tips back as he rolls hips up, catches the head on the sole of Dew's boot. Aeon whines, a broken pitiful sound that makes Dew feel like his stomach is in a free fall. He watches, stony faced as Aeon ruts against the  toe of his boot, watches him get harder against the rubber. 

Dew holds his foot in place—that's all he has to do. That and watch. He squeezes at his cock through the denim of his jeans. He'll ask Aeon to suck it later—after. Or maybe he'll just pull himself out and jack off to the sight in front of him. To the way Aeon's cock dribbles pre onto Dew's boots. To the way Aeon's breath rockets out of him with every thrust. 

Aeon's frantic beneath him. His free hand drags up over his torso, pinches at one of his nipples, slides further up into his own hair. Dew tries not to imagine that hand is his—tries not to think about the noises Aeon would make if it was. 

He fails, and before he's telling himself to do it, he's tugging down his zipper and curling his hand around his cock. He's so hard it aches. The first pull feels like relief. The second is like self-immolation. He matches his strokes with Aeon's thrusts. Eyes glued to the way Aeon ruts against his boot. The way the shiny head peeks back up over the toe with each roll of Aeon's narrow hips. 

Aeon flattens himself a little lower and it's so close to the position they're in on stage that Dew almost has to stand up—has to make it right. But he doesn't—it would interrupt Aeon's rhythm. He can't have that—not when Aeon's already so close. 

Aeon cums first with a startled yelp. His head tips back up so he can watch Dew when he does. Dew's hand stutters on his cock, heat builds at the base of spine, spreads through his stomach. Aeon paints the top of Dew's boot and his own stomach in pearlescent white. And then Dew's cumming too—orgasm rushing up to meet him. He shoves his fist into his mouth to muffle the sound, tastes blood as he bites down—glamor failing, fangs digging into soft skin. 

Aeon's kneeling like before when Dew comes back to himself. Torso upright, chest heaving, his body covered in a fine film of sweat. They'll shower, Dew thinks, and maybe if he can muster the energy back into his exhausted limbs, he'll press Aeon down into the sheets and fuck him the way he deserves. 

But for now, Dew studies Aeon while he wills breath back into heaving lungs. There is exhaustion written through the delicate lines of Aeon's face—but pride too. Dew tucks himself back into his jeans and leans forward, into Aeon's space as he reaches for him. 

Aeon looks up at him—there's worship there, awe. And when Dew offers Aeon his hand—knuckles and fingers coated in cum, Aeon doesn't hesitiate to drag his tongue through it. Sucking the tips of Dew's fingers into his mouth; reverent. 

When  Aeon's done Dew cards his hand over Aeon's face, his skin damp with sweat, curls flattened against his forehead. Dew brushes them out of the way, looks down into those violet eyes. Studies the way Aeon's guard drops, watches how pliant and easy he's become, boneless as he sags over himself, shoulders curling, eyes drooping.

"You forgot something," Dew says, softly, trying to keep his voice calm despite the sick delight dragging down his spine.  Aeon blinks up at him.

"Huh?" 

Dew taps the toe of his boot against Aeon's thigh and Aeon jolts, he looks down at the mess splattered across the leather. 

Aeon makes a pitiful noise, broken, distressed and Dew feels like his body is caving in on itself. He'd be hard again if it was possible. As it is the sight before him feels like an electric shock. One he'll take with him into his bunk and every venue shower from here until the end of the tour. 

"Clean up your mess." 

[mrsbarnesblog]

˖˚⊹ caught

➤ 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.

➤ w/c: 1.2k

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

masterlist

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.

[backtothefanfiction]

FaceTime | Joaquin Torres x Reader

Summary: long distance is hard sometimes

Warnings: long distance relationships, fluff, flirting

A/N: just a quick one before bed. I haven’t done one of these in a while. I’m not too happy with the ending, but I want to go to sleep and also keep this short. Enjoy!

You had only just gotten out of the shower when he called. He always tried to call when he got a moment in the evenings. Sometimes it was earlier when you were having your dinner. Other times it was really late and you were already in bed. But he always made the effort. Sometimes the calls were long and sometimes they were short, but you always cherished every second you got to see his face and hear his voice.

“Hey,” he said, the second you picked up.

“Hey,” you said a little breathless from the way you had raced back down the hall from the bathroom to reach your phone in time.

“You okay?” he asked, his brow furrowed as he took in your damp hair and bare shoulders in the frame of the camera.

“Yeah,” you said, sitting on the side of your bed and breathing deeply, still trying to regulate your breaths, “I just got out of the shower. Thought I was gonna miss your call.”

You watched as his eyebrows raised interestedly. “Really now?” he asked with that breathy enthusiasm he had when he was feeling flirty.

“Yes,” you sighed, rolling your eyes. He was so predictable.

“So you’re not wearing anything right now?” he pressed.

“Joaquin!” You whined, unimpressed.

“What!?” he exclaimed honestly and you rolled your eyes again.

“Where are you right now?” You asked him, trying to change the subject. It looked like he was in the back of a car.

“Travelling back to my hotel for the night,” he said, before his hand rubbed at his face. It was clear from the dark circles under his eyes he was tired. His job was pretty exhausting after all, but he always claimed it was because he didn’t sleep as well without you.

“What time is it where you are?” you asked him.

“Late,” he replied before he switched the hand he was holding his phone with to check his watch. “Ah shit,” he sighed, “I still haven’t changed this,” he muttered to himself.

“Why not just check the corner of your phone?” you asked him.

“Now I knew I wasn’t just dating you for your pretty face,” he joked as you saw his eyes glance up to the time on his phone.

“Oh I that’s good to know. I had thought it was solely because I look good on your arm when you get invited to the White House.”

“But you do,” he frowned, before he quickly realised you were joking and a smile broke out on his face.

“Damn fly boy, you really are tired,” you noted and as if on cue he began to yawn. “Don’t yawn, you’ll set me off,” you chastised him, but it was already too late, as you felt one creeping into the corners of your jaw. He let out a little laugh when you succumbed.

“How long til you get to your hotel?” you asked him.

Instead of looking forward towards the drivers satnav, you watched as his eyes moved to look out the window instead. “Not far now,” he said. “Maybe another couple of minutes.”

Your brow furrowed as you thought on that. Clearly he was somewhere he knew well if he could work out how far away he was just by his surroundings.

“Where did you say you were again?” you asked him, suddenly feeling suspicious.

“We just stopped off in Philly for a night,” he said, but the way his mouth twitched slightly like he was rolling his tongue awkwardly behind his teeth, made you feel like he was lying. “How was work today?” he quickly asked, changing the subject.

“It was fine, same old same old,” you said, still thinking over his demeanour as you attempted to talk normally. “The AC broke though so I was a sweaty mess for most of the day.”

“Mmmm tasty,” he said.

“Uhhh that so gross.”

“Says the woman who loves when I come home all sweaty from the gym.”

“That’s different.”

“How so?” he chuckled.

“It’s not like I lick your sweat or anything. I just like the way your skin glistens.” you tried to defend yourself.

“Yeah, yeah,” he joked before you saw his gaze shift back out the window again. When his gaze turned back to you, you could have sworn he was trying to hide a smile.

“What is up with you this evening?” you asked him.

“Nothing,” he tried to defend himself, but he couldn’t help but let out a breathy smug chuckle.

“You’re up to something. You can’t hide shit from me Torres. What are you doing?”

“Nothing,” he grinned. “I’m doing nothing,” he insisted. “I’m just really excited about climbing into bed after a long day.

“Bullshit,” you said as he let out a shit eating grin.

“I am!” he insisted, but when he saw the concerned look on your face he caved. “Fine,” he sighed. “Go to the window.”

“What?” your frowned.

“Go to the window,” he said again.

You rolled your eyes but did as you were told. When you pulled back the curtain you almost dropped your phone in shock. Outside was a black limousine and Joaquin was climbing out of the back of it.

“Shut up!” you exclaimed. You heard him chuckle through the phone. “SHUT UP!” you squealed louder, lifting your phone back up to your face, simultaneously looking from him on the call to him out the window.

“You still in that towel?” he joked as you watched him practically jog across the lawn to your front door, his duffel bag and a bouquet of flowers clenched in his hand.

“Yes,” you said, a shit eating grin on your face.

“Not for long you won’t be,” he said before he hung up the call.

A second later you heard his key in the door and you raced down the stairs and straight into his arms. That was the best FaceTime call ever.

[rafesangelita]

rafe jerking off to one of kook!sweetheart!reader’s pictures and making a mess out of himself? 😵‍💫

warnings: reader sends pics, male masturbation, suggestive ending

[10:56 PM] sweetheart <3: 1 attached image

[10:56 PM] sweetheart <3: i just got this sample in for my next collection, what do you think?

rafe stared at his phone, utterly speechless at the sight. how was it that he was the one to receive a picture of you in the skimpiest lingerie he’s ever seen?

he swallowed thickly, his jaw clenching as he inspected every detail, every curve of your body in the photo. you were obviously in bed, the thought of him barging into your room and ripping every last piece of lace off of you before fucking you into oblivion was, without a doubt, something he was seriously considering doing right now.

mind scrambling to write a reply, rafe cursed under his breath as another picture lit up his screen.

[11:00 PM] sweetheart <3: 1 attached image

[11:00 PM] sweetheart <3: cute little detail, right?

if rafe thought he was losing his mind at the first photo, he was definitely losing it now. there, in the middle of your bra, hung a small gold pendant with the letter ‘R’, the damned thing glinting underneath the dim lighting of your room.

rafe was already a jealous hothead, so to see you put his own little mark on you willingly? oh, he was going to show you his appreciation. with his phone long forgotten next to him, rafe stroked his already hard cock, wishing his hand was your own as he brushed the tip with his thumb.

everything you did drove this man insane. the little glances at his lips whenever you two would be flirting, the way you rested your pretty hand on his thigh when he’d make you laugh, all of it— rafe felt it all boiling down to one thing. and he needed it bad.

“s-shit,” rafe shuddered, his eyes screwing shut as he imagined you on top of him, that pendent with his initial swinging in his face as you rode him like there was no tomorrow. he would bet all of his daddy’s money and tanneyhill, that you’d feel like heaven wrapped around him.

it was embarrassing to rafe how fast he felt himself approaching his high. his mouth fell open, a throaty moan falling from his lips as his hips bucked into his fist. he wondered if you’d let him cum or make him work for it, just like everything else.

the first time he tried to talk to you, you ignored him until you saw for yourself that he wasn’t in any other girls ear. everything, whether it was a peck on his cheek, or simply letting him take you out to lunch, you made his actions determine whether or not he was going to get what he wanted.

“holy fuck!” he whispered, his chest now rising and falling as the band in his stomach threatened to snap. never in his life had he wished he was somewhere else right now, that ‘somewhere’ being between your thighs, hearing your sweet cries of pleasure. rafe couldn’t decide if he wanted to fuck his cum inside of you or paint your face, but after this? he figured he’d do both.

“oh, my g-” rafe’s words were cut short when his orgasm hit him, his jaw falling slack as his eyebrows knitted together. spilling his load into his hand, rafe groaned as his cock twitched in his boxers, a hiss sounding from his lips as he continued to move his hand languidly over his length.

by this point, it’d been well over thirty minutes since rafe had left you on seen, your ego a little hurt that he hadn’t responded to any of your texts after you dolled yourself up just for him. just as you were about to call it a night, your phone dinged with a message from none other than the man himself.

[11:33 PM] ray <3: made a mess. i’m getting in the shower and then i’m making my way over there. be ready for me, doll.

[submattsmxmmy]

roughdom!stepbro!chris x bratty!stepsis!reader

🖤 content warning: 🖤 smut, stepsibling kink, jealousy, posessiveness, praise/degradation, nipple play, oral(f!receiving), rough sex, forbidden love, fluff at the end

🖤 summary: 🖤 chris throws a party while your parents are out of town without telling you, and you get revenge on him by wearing your sluttiest outfit and dangling yourself in front of his friends

hiiii, it's @ariestrxsh, and this is my second account ! if you're not into stepcest, that's totally fine. don't like? don't read. sorry, mom. sorry, god. and sorry, chris sturniolo, if you ever read this depraved piece of writing.

dividers by @/strangergraphics

holdyourbreath

chapters: | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 |

"You've gotta be fucking kidding me," you mumbled under your breath as your tires rolled to a stop in front of your house. You'd just gotten off a double at the local diner you worked at, and now that it was nearly 10 p.m., you wanted nothing more than to take a hot shower and go to bed.

However, the loud music that was coming from your living room and the several parked cars on your street indicated to you that that wasn't happening any time soon. Of course, Chris had decided to throw a party while your parents were out of town. You shouldn't have expected anything less.

You rolled your eyes and cut the engine, slamming your car door once you got out. A bunch of Chris' friends were wandering in and out of the front door as you approached your home. "Excuse me," you said with an attitude as you pushed past a few men who were blocking the entry way.

As soon as you set foot in your living room, you could smell the weed wafting through the air. You started immediately looking for your stepbrother so you could give him a piece of your mind and ask him what the hell he was thinking.

You recognized some of the people at the party from Chris' friend group, and you immediately braced yourself when Chris' asshole best friend, Jackson, approached you. You could tell that he'd always been into you, and each time he interacted with you, he got more desperate.

"Hey, it's been a while. Can I grab you a drink?" He asked, looking you up and down and clearly trying to hit on you. You scoffed and gave him a tight lipped smile. "You know, I'm really not in the mood right now. I worked a double today, and Chris kind of threw this party without telling me."

"Come on, let me get you a drink, and we can go somewhere more private and talk. You just need to relax a little," Jackson said, pushing a strand of your hair behind your ear. Oh yeah, just relax. That's a woman's favorite thing to be told to do. Must be such a ladies man, you sarcastically thought to yourself.

"Get me a drink, and I'll throw it in your face," you retorted, swatting his hand away and narrowing your gaze at him. You had half a mind to tell him that if Chris ever found out that he was trying to get into your pants, he'd be dead, but after that little relax comment, you decided it'd be more fun to not even mention it and let him dig himself into a hole.

By the time you'd reached the kitchen, you were fuming. Your entire house was a mess, trash and empty bottles of alcohol littering nearly every surface. Your eyes danced over to some boy lighting up a joint in the corner or the room, and you snapped.

"Hey! You can't smoke in here!" You exclaimed, approaching him and pulling the joint out of his mouth. You tucked it behind your own lips as you barged out your backdoor in search of Chris.

That's when you saw him - your annoying, cocky, and deplorable older stepbrother who was shot gunning a tall can of beer while a group of people stood around him, cheering him on. You took a long drag from the joint you'd just confiscated and glared in his direction, thinking about what idiots college boys were when they all got together.

As if he could feel your angry stare, he turned around to face you, his eyes lighting up as he did. "Hey, sis. Bet you're glad to be done with work. I see you're already having fun, huh?" He asked, walking towards you and motioning towards the joint you held between your two fingers.

"No, I took this away from some moron who was lighting up in our house! I just took a couple hits for your sake so I don't fucking kill you," you snarked at Chris. "Woah. You really know how to have a good time," Chris sarcastically chuckled.

"We need to talk," you said through clenched teeth, grabbing his arm as you dragged him to a secluded spot on the side of your house. "What? You can't even wait until we get upstairs before you jump on me?" Chris teased you, smirking, which earned another eye roll from you.

"Chris! What the hell are you doing!? You know mom and dad are gonna be able to smell the weed your fucking friend lit up?" You responded with anger. "C'mon, they're not gonna find out," Chris replied, softly brushing his thumb against your cheek. "They're gone until Monday night. I'll air out the house tomorrow, hmm?" He said calmly and sweetly, looking into your eyes.

"Chris.. I was hoping we could have the house to ourselves tonight," you told him, pouting as you laid your hand seductively on his chest. "I had a really bad day. I was hoping you could make it better." Chris smirked at you, knowing how badly you were fiending for him despite being upset about coming home to some dumb party you never would've agreed to.

"Don't worry. We'll make plenty of time for that. Hell, I'll fuck you nice and hard upstairs right now if ya want," Chris cooed, leaning in as he took the joint from you and took a drag from it. "With all these people here? What if someone sees us go upstairs together?" You wondered, glancing around to make sure no one was within earshot.

"Then it won't be weird, because we both live here," he smirked, blowing a puff of weed smoke out of the side of his mouth. "Maybe, Chris.." you said, considering it. "But I'm really mad at you right now! I just wanna get out of this stupid uniform and take a nice, long hot shower," you told him, fiddling with the strings of your apron that was still tied around your waist.

"Okay, go do that. I'll be wherever you need me to be when you're done," he whispered, leaning in and kissing your forehead. You hated how much it made you melt when he did that.

Sometimes, you wanted to hate Chris, but there was something so charming about him, especially when he knew you were mad at him. He knew how to quell your anger by saying all the right things. You took a few more puffs of the joint before passing it off to Chris.

"You're gonna spend the rest of the weekend making up for it." You jabbed your finger into his chest, but there was a playfulness to it like you weren't pissed at him anymore. A smug smirk played in the corner of his lips. He took the joint back from you, his eyes traveling to your ass as you turned around and walked away.

Chris emerged from the tucked away spot on the side of the house, joining his friends again. "Hey, where's your sister going?" Jackson asked, approaching Chris as he craned his neck, watching you head inside. "She's not my real sister," Chris corrected him, only realizing after saying it how weird it was that he'd made the clarification.

"Uh, she's goin' upstairs to change or somethin'," Chris shrugged, acting like he didn't care what you were doing. "Do you think I'd ever have a chance with her?" Jackson casually asked, starting to slur his words from how much he'd had to drink.

Chris responded with an agitated expression, a clenched jaw and a furrowed brow, jealousy immediately flooding his system as he looked up at his friend, eyes sharp like daggers. He'd never heard him say anything about being interested in you at all until tonight, and Chris was not happy about it. His friend grew uncomfortable with the silence, unable to read Chris' facial features.

"What? She's like, insanely hot. You think she'd ever sleep with me?" Jackson asked. "Not a fuckin' chance," Chris snorted, and he had to hold himself back from saying, and not even if I weren't fucking her. "What? Am I just not her type or something?" Jackson asked, his smile falling. "Somethin' like that," Chris responded, avoiding telling him the real reason.

"Well, what is her type?" Jackson asked, taking a sip of his drink. Chris took a long, final drag off of the joint he held between his two fingers, still studying his friend's expression and trying to determine if he was a threat or not.

"If you're not it, why do ya care? Just lay off, man. She's my sister, and you're my best friend. It's weird," Chris shrugged, trying to hold back his snarky remarks as he threw the spent roach on the sidewalk and crushed it under his shoe. "But like, not your real sister," Jackson pointed out, using Chris' own words against him, "so, why do you care?"

Chris' intense blue eyes flicked up at Jackson with hatred in them, and he balled his fists at his sides. "Just lay off, huh? I care because I care."

"I don't want to like date her or anything. Just want one night with her," Jackson candidly admitted, not realizing the chord he was about to strike. The only thing worse than Jackson wanting to date you was Jackson wanting to use your body for his own sexual gratification and nothing more.

Without thinking, Chris shoved him. Hard. Jackson's drink sloshed in his hand, and some of it splashed onto the cement, just barely missing his shoes. "Chris, what the fuck?" Jackson shot back, the whole incident drawing attention to the two of them. The guests outside fell silent, watching their altercation unfold.

"Stay the fuck away from her, and don't talk about her that way," Chris quietly muttered as he pushed past Jackson and headed back inside. Jackson stood there, confused, wondering what he'd said to set him off. It's not like Chris hadn't said worse things about women in front of him.

Once he was back in his kitchen, Chris angrily grabbed a beer from the fridge, his cortisol at an all-time high. He tried to brush it off, not wanting the incident to ruin his night. He was determined to still have a good time and not let anything else get to him - well, except for you, descending the stairs in the shortest, skimpiest black dress you owned, hair still wet from your shower.

He watched as a sea of eyes were drawn to you, all his friends drinking you in as their gazes danced over your slutty little dress and your exposed skin. He watched as you shot a few of the boys a suggestive smile, and by now, he'd had enough. He pushed through the crowd, bounding up the steps to you.

"What the fuck is this?" Chris asked, grabbing your wrist and motioning towards the black fabric that barely covered your ass. "You think this is some kinda fuckin' catwalk? Trying to show yourself off to all my friends?" Chris demanded, nostrils flared and an angry stare that bore into you.

"What? You don't think I look good?" You asked him, giving him a flirtatious smirk. You knew exactly what you were doing, and Chris was walking right into your trap. "You do look fuckin' good. That's the problem. Who're ya trying to show off for, hmm?" Chris asked, tightening his grip on your wrist.

"For you, silly," you replied, giving him a smug expression. "I don't buy it. Go change," Chris ordered you, his eyes dark with lust and jealousy as he looked you over one more time. You leaned in, your soft lips brushing against his ear lobe as you whispered, "Make me."

Without saying another word, he twisted your arm so that you had no other choice but to turn around. "Ow!" You cried out as he marched you back up the steps, tightening his hold on you. He dragged you into his bedroom, where there was a couple making out on his bed and starting to undress.

"This is my fuckin' room. Get the fuck out," Chris sternly said, picking up the girl's top that was thrown on his floor and shoving it into her arms. Both of them looked astonished, scurrying out of the room as they struggled to put their clothes back on. Chris immediately locked the door after he slammed it in their faces.

They were both too stunned to speak, exchanging an inquisitive look before they headed to the bathroom to finish what they'd started.

"What the fuck do ya think you're doing, huh?" Chris asked with a bit of hurt in his voice that he was trying to mask with anger as he pushed you up against his wall. He roughly grabbed your waist. "You're not tryin' to get Jackson's attention, are ya?"

You laughed at his accusation. "Fuck no. He wishes." You bit down on your lip, completely turned on by the way Chris wanted you all to himself. Chris searched your face for any deception, hoping that you were telling the truth.

"You'd never fuck him, would ya?" He wondered aloud, digging his fingers into your sides, almost afraid to hear your answer. "Not even if we were the last two people on earth," you responded without hesitation.

The words that left your lips were like music to his ears. With one hand still firmly on your hip, he reached up with his other, cradling your face, his touch almost gentle for a moment. "That's what I like t'hear," Chris whispered, leaning down towards you.

His glazed over blue eyes met yours for a moment before he closed the distance between your lips and his, his nose brushing against yours to tilt your face towards him. His kiss was hungry, aggressive, and full of need. Now both of his hands were reaching up, his fingers threading their way into your hair.

He softly moaned into your mouth, the sound sending a tickling vibration through your lips as he pressed his erection into your hip, pinning you between the wall and his body. You felt the reckless passion in his touch that he was always careful to reign in every other sexual encounter the two of you'd had.

This time was different. It was like he couldn't pull you close enough. Maybe it was the alcohol, the weed, or the fear that he might lose you to his best friend or some other man, but he couldn't hold back the sheer desire he felt for you.

He pulled away from your lips, nudging your head up so he could leave a trail of kisses down your neck. He slipped your strap off of your dress and watched as the flimsy fabric fell away to reveal one of your tits to him.

He leaned down and took it into his mouth, swirling his tongue around your stiff nipple and gently biting down on it. He tugged your other dress strap down with more fervor this time, moving to your other breast and wrapping his lips around your sensitive peak.

Your hands found their way to his head, holding him against your chest and combing through his hair with your fingers as he hummed against your nipple. The entire time he suckled on each breast, his perfect blue eyes never left yours.

He pulled away, nudging your legs open with his knee and spreading them apart. His right hand wandered below your waist, and he slowly traced his fingers along the inside of your thigh, smirking at you when he dragged them through a drop of arousal that had started leaking down your soft flesh.

"Fuck, you're dripping," he whispered lustfully. His hand continued its path up your dress, and his demeanor changed when he made direct contact with your heat. "No panties?" He hissed, spreading open your lower lips and roughly rubbing your clit with his middle finger. You arched your back off the wall, melting into his touch as a gasp left your lips.

"Oops. I guess I forgot to put them on," you innocently answered, but Chris knew better. "You came downstairs with this skimpy little outfit on and didn't even bother puttin' panties on underneath? Who's this for, huh?" He rasped, staring down at you possessively.

You didn't want any of his friends, but you couldn't help how much you liked the way he treated you when he thought that you did, so you didn't set the record straight. You gave him a half-hearted shrug, a smirk starting in the corner of your mouth.

"You really are a little fuckin' slut, aren't ya? Tryin' to show your pretty pussy off at my party? You've got some fuckin' nerve," he whispered into your ear. You could hear the territorial edge in his voice, turning you on even more.

Without warning, he dropped to his knees, staring up at you as he hiked up your dress. He kept his blue eyes fixed on you as he attached his lips to your throbbing clit. He quickly flickered his tongue over your bundle of nerves, watching your jaw fall slack and your head fall back softly against his wall.

"This pussy belongs to me. Say it," Chris demanded in a husky voice, pulling his mouth off of you just long enough to watch you squirm at the lack of touch. "It's all yours, Chris. My pussy belongs to you," you softly whimpered, running your fingers through his hair, guiding his head back between your thighs.

You tilted your head forward again, taking in the view of him licking a long stripe from your hole to your clit, wrapping his lips around it again and beginning to suck. Chris lifted your right leg, throwing it over his shoulder, the heel of your shoe resting on his back while he ate you like a man starving.

He had both his hands on your ass, pulling you down onto his face as you started to grind against his tongue. You could already feel your legs starting to tremble, nearing the edge as Chris expertly worked his mouth on you.

Before you could finish, he moved his hands to your hips again, pulling his head away. "Turn around, fuckin' slut," Chris ordered you. You obediently listened, pressing your cheek up against the wall.

Chris gently ran his fingertips along your outer leg from your high heel all the way up to your hip before pushing your dress up even further and revealing your perfect ass to him. He grabbed a handful of each cheek, admiring the way curve of your back and the way you were bent over, inviting him to do whatever he wanted to you.

He spread you open again, drinking in the view of your slick folds and your drooling hole. You gasped and smiled as you felt him spit on your cunt and then start massaging his saliva into your sensitive flesh with the pad of his thumb. He chuckled at your reaction before he leaned in and started eating your pussy from the back, moaning to himself like he was devouring his favorite meal.

"Chris.." his name fell from your lips as you peered back over your shoulder at him. You pressed your hands firmly up against the wall, trying to stabilize yourself. You arched your back further, sticking your ass out and giving Chris easier access to your throbbing clit. You felt him drag his tongue along your folds, periodically slurping up your juices.

He released his grip on your left cheek, raising his hand a few inches and then delivering a harsh smack followed by a rough grab, causing you to jump and squeal and leaving a painful sting on your sensitive skin.

Your body started to tremble again, feeling the tip of his nose pressing against your entrance as he alternated between kissing, licking, and sucking. You were on the verge of losing control, Chris' name pouring from your lips along with a slew of profanities. You were just about to finish when you felt him pull away.

"No, no, no!" You cried out desperately, tears pricking the corners of your eyes at the sudden withdraw of sensation when you were so close.

You let out a relieved sigh as you heard the sound of him fiddling with his belt and his zipper. You felt his mushroom-shaped tip slowly dragging up and down your slit, the warmth of his hot breath against your neck, and the feeling of his hands as he clasped your wrists and kept them pinned against the wall.

"Tell me who ya belong to," he said huskily into your ear. Before you could answer, you felt the jolt of his hips, breaching your entrance and stretching you around his fully hard cock. "C'mon. Be a good girl and tell me who owns this pussy," he reiterated, his voice softer this time.

"You do, Chris. All yours," you managed to get out. He wasn't as concerned with going fast as much as he was going hard and deep. Every time he drove his hips forward, slamming them into you, you let out a desperate whimper. He could feel your ass recoil against him with every thrust.

His left hand left your wrist and snaked around your throat, pulling you off of the wall, and he wrapped his right arm around your waist, pulling you back against him. "Good girl," he whispered into the crook of your neck as he started kissing and biting down on your soft flesh.

You tilted your head, giving him better access, feeling his lips and his teeth along your sensitive skin while he fucked you from behind. Chris usually liked to tease you, make you beg for it, but he couldn't stop himself this time.

Your breath hitched in your throat as he started thrusting in and out of you at an irreverent pace, the grip of his fingers tightening around your neck. "Say you're mine," Chris purred. "I'm yours, Chris," you moaned as you started to come undone, clenching around his length.

He held onto you tightly, fucking you through your orgasm and the aftershocks as your whole body started to shake against him. "That's it. Cum all over my cock," Chris whispered as he started to pulse inside of you. He pumped you full of his cum, softly whimpering into your ear as he finished.

His thrusts slowed to a stop, giving your body a final squeeze before he released you from him grasp and pulled out of you. You turned around, and the two of you stood there breathless for a moment, you leaning with your back against the wall, and Chris, towering over you. The two of you exchanged a dazed look.

Chris liked the dynamic between the two of you, the way you acted out just so he could put you in your place. However, he'd be lying to himself if he said he was okay with having you prance around like that in front of his friends. It bothered him that in their eyes, you were available. Single.

It killed him that he couldn't show you off, have you under his arm, and pull you close and kiss you when he saw other guys checking you out. It was a love that was too forbidden. You had to keep each other a secret.

He reached up and stroked your cheek with a softness in his expression and something else that looked a bit like love. He leaned in and locked his lips onto yours, kissing you passionately one more time.

"Okay, now, I mean it. Go change. I'll meet you back downstairs," Chris whispered, looking into your eyes. His tone was serious, not looking for a fight.

"Chris," you said, placing your hand on his before he could pull away. "I don't wanna go back downstairs. I want everyone to leave. I want you to sleep in my bed with me tonight," you begged, batting your lashes at him.

Normally, he'd scoff, roll his eyes, and make some comment about how the only reasons he'd ever sleep in your bed is if he fell asleep there after the two of you had fucked. However, this time was different.

"Of course," he said sweetly, still cradling your face and running his thumb thoughtfully along your cheekbone. "I'm gonna go tell everyone that someone called the cops or somethin'. They'll all dip," he chuckled, pressing his soft lips to your forehead.

"You better," you whispered, looking up at him with hearts in your eyes, unable to contain how smitten you felt. "Ya gotta stop looking at me like that. You're makin' me sick," Chris replied, but he didn't sound like he meant it, especially because he was looking at you the same way.

Chris helped you fix your dress and joked with you about needing to wear it around the house more often. You quietly unlocked the door and carefully stepped out after making sure no one was around. You slipped into your own room, thankfully, without anyone seeing you do the walk of shame from your stepbrother's bedroom to yours at the other end of the hallway.

Chris managed to get everyone to leave rather quickly, watching them all scatter like roaches when he yelled one simple word: "Cops!"

Less than an hour later, Chris was spooning you in your bed, his legs intertwined with yours as the two of you laid tangled in your sheets. He had his arms wrapped around your frame and his lips pressed to your cheek as he peppered your face in kisses.

Both of you were giggling as Chris recounted to you the way he almost fought Jackson over the comment he'd made about wanting you. "Don't worry, Chris. I'm not actually interested in any of your friends, especially not Jackson," you assured him, closing your tired eyes. Chris squeezed you tighter, nuzzling into the crook of your neck.

"I fuckin' love you," the words tumbled out of his mouth, his hot breath hitting your skin. He froze at his own admission. He'd known for months now that he loved you, but the vulnerability of saying out loud sent him into a mental spiral.

He hadn't meant to. It just came out.

He laid there in silence for what felt like an eternity, worrying that you didn't feel the same way and scared that you'd call the whole arrangement off if you knew how he really felt. After all, he was your stepbrother. It was wrong for the two of you to be sexually involved, but romantically, too?

"I love you, too, Chris," you nonchalantly replied as if it were a completely normal phrase for you to say to him. He smiled to himself, relieved that you reciprocated his feelings and that it didn't have to be some monumental, dramatic thing.

Chris lightly ran his fingertips over your arm in a soothing manner as you drifted off to sleep, and he held you the whole night.

[dissolvedprincess]

imagine just having the freedom to have your hands all over frank castle. idk what it is but lately I've been really into tipsy!reader and frank, but just coming home from being out and him being in just a pair of sweats, being able to kiss and rub and trace every scar, every hair, HIS NOOOOOOSE. I fear we as a people don't talk about his nose enough it's genuinely perfection in my eyes. just that, being all pretty for frank while you get him worked up. depending on the severity of your intoxication he may or may not let it go further, also depends on how bad you're teasing him🤭

Thank you for this super fun request dear anon! This one turned out to be a favorite of mine and i hope i did your vision justice. Enjoy!!

Nobody but you

꒰ Frank Castle x Fem reader ꒱

✷ CW : 18+, intoxication, unprotected pinv, fluff, established relationship

(Not proofread)

꒷︶꒷꒥꒷‧₊˚꒷︶꒷꒥꒷‧₊˚ ꒷︶꒷꒥꒷‧₊˚꒷︶꒷꒥꒷‧₊˚ ꒷︶꒷꒥꒷‧₊˚꒷︶

These fucking heels were killing you.

The room was spinning and you couldn’t find your goddamn keys. “Son of a bitch…” Your acrylic nails made it more difficult for your hands to effectively rummage around your purse. You start to frantically dig harder only to quickly pause as Frank’s voice echoed in the back of your head, “Hey come on— i’ll pay ‘em off for you. It’s nothing, i like doing this for you.”

The interruption granted you a moment of sobriety and it proved to be effective when your fingers curled around a familiar shape. “Hell yeah.”

You step inside to find the already dark apartment with only one source of illumination from the side of the couch; cascading the room with a dim, yellow light. Once the door closed, you brace your back on it and let out a relieved breath.

“I’m homee babyyy!” You call out, knowing Frank would stay up as long as he needs to make sure you arrive home safe from your bi-weekly hang outs with your friends. Though the intent on having a smooth arrival was interrupted by a shooting pain that went up your leg. “Ow! Fuck! Stupid fucking-“

“Hey sweetheart— whole lotta cursing there! You good?” Frank’s voice echoed from somewhere inside the apartment.

“My heels! Ugh. They’re hurting me.” You crouch down to fumble with the straps that was tightly wrapped around your ankle. “Pleasee God just this one time….gimme a break.” You whined.

“Need any help?”

“Nope!” You let out with an over exaggerated ‘P’.

After another failed attempt, you crumbled to sit on the floor in exhaustion, causing a small thud to echo in the room. As if a loyal dog, the noise quickly beckoned Frank’s attention away from his book, and before you could struggle by yourself further, you hear him padding towards you. Like clockwork.

Maybe it was the alcohol in your system, but you couldn’t deny the fact that you feel a spark of arousal in the pit of your stomach at the sight of him crouching in front of you. Frank looked freshly showered and he smelled so nice. The grey sweatpants he had on has always been your favorite. Although tempting, you could never tell him that; not when you could freely ogle at his bulge without him knowing.

Your eyes trailed from his hands to his flexing arms, working to gently take off your heels. He looked strong and untouchable in the white wife beater. The shape of it further emphasizing his prominent muscles.

“Frank…baby you don’t need to be doing all this.” You affectionately stroked the back of his hand with your palm.

“Quiet.” He gruffed. “I like-“

“Doing this for you.” You finish for him.

Frank’s dark eyes flicked briefly to meet yours in acknowledgment and he tried his best to downplay the smile that blossomed. “That’s right.”

“Soooo sweet, my Frankie.” You mumbled as your fingers raked through his cropped hair. “So handsome too.” He stiffened slightly as you sneaked the line in.

Frank doesn’t always react outwardly to things, he prefers to keep things close; never to let it be seen by anyone. Unfortunately for him, you make it difficult for him to do so. Especially when you make him all flustered and shy, like molten butter under the sun.

Frank cleared his throat as he placed your heels back on the shoe rack. “S’nothing.” You replied with a hum.

“Tell me what hurts.”

“I think my right leg’s crampin’ babe.” He then went to sit and pulled your leg over his lap. His hands were gentle as they massaged the tender area, but you still winced at his touch. “Let me know if i’m goin’ too hard.”

“No no, it’s good. Feels really good baby.”

You lean back on your hand and chased after his face with the other. Thumb coming up to swipe over a scar that’s formed on his cheek.

His hands trailed from your calf to your thighs, straightening out and relaxing your muscles. Frank wasn’t trying to start anything and you knew that. But how can you not get aroused as he inches to your upper thigh.

“Y’wanna know something babe?” You start, mind itching to distract yourself from his touch.

“What?”

“They talked my ear off about their shitty boyfriends, aaalll night. Apparently, all of ‘em hate listening to their girls—“ You pause to curse as he pressed on a tender spot.

“But they looove to just sit on their asses and fuck—they’re selfish pricks! Especially in bed. It’s a shame to hear my girls claim that there’s just no more proper men left in the world.” You frowned. Frank loves it when you go off on your drunken chatter.

“That so?” His tone amused.

You couldn’t stop the drunken giggle that promptly escaped, “Yep, and duh of course i disagreed. I mean, look at you!” You exclaimed with a roll of your eyes, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “You’re like, the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

Before you could catch Frank’s flustered reaction, “Also, do you remember Mia?”

He nodded, fingers still working their magic on your leg.

“She- fuck.” You held another laugh before continuing, “She swears the guy she’s dating has the smallest, tiniest micro dick. But- but, listen to this yeah.” You ramble as you waved your pointer finger to prove a point.

Frank smiled as he listened to you intently.

“They haven’t fucked yet. But she swears it cuz he has the skinniest nose she’s ever seen on a guy! Like isn’t that soo crazy!?”

“Wouldn’t know much about that sweetheart.” He then breathed out a small laugh.

In response, you put a hand on your chest and scoffed, face twisting in confusion, “Oh? Well well welllll Frankie, i beg to differ my love.”

Cocking a brow in amusement he threw a look your way and chuckled.

You narrowed your eyes, “Can you guess what she said next?”

He stopped moving his hands and rested them on your thigh instead, softly stroking up and down.

“Nope.” He uttered.

“How lucky i am that i have a boyfriend with a decent sized nose, that technically leans towards the bigger side.” You continue with a smug expression plastered on your face.

The both of you burst into laughter as you finished your story. Your heart ached as you watched him openly laugh, body shaking and struggling to contain himself. It’s a rare occurrence. Which is why you’re savoring every moment of it now. A small time away from the darkness that digs its claws into him often.

Bottom lip captured between your teeth, you smiled at him as your joined laughter naturally dies down. He leaned his head on the wall and threw you another look with a smile on his face. Both your eyes meeting to seemingly be stuck in a trance; silently communicating.

“Shit. All this talk about noses got me feeling horny.” You joked, body slowly shuffling to get on top of him and he welcomes it. His broad palm settled on your hips, affection fogging up his features. “I’m glad to hear my nose got you all worked up.” He shoots back with a sly smirk.

You giggled again before leaning in to lick the seam of his lips. He responds by sucking your tongue into his mouth; slowly. Equally savoring your taste. The kisses quickly deepened and the gentleness seemed to fade as soon as it started.

Your hips start to slowly move in his hold, testing the waters still. Eager to find out how far he’s willing to go. Frank’s answer was apparent as he helped you ground your pussy harder, pulling and pushing you along the length of his cock. The glide made easier by your own arousal that was starting to seep out of your panties.

“I’m so fucking horny Frank.” You mumble into his mouth. “I want you to fuck me.” Moaning softly against his mouth as you felt the head of his dick push against your clothed clit just right. He mindlessly start to massage your ass, leading your legs to wrap around his hips. He parts from you and leans back to voice out, “Hold on to me.”

He stood up and walks over to the couch, with you in his arms. You couldn’t help but suck dark marks into his neck as he’s walking. Teasing bites trace up to nibble on his lobe.

You expected him to dump you into the couch and fuck you into it. But you were pleasantly surprised to find him turning to fall backwards into it. The drop jostled your body slightly, causing you to press against his bulge. You rose up and threaded your fingers under the edge of your short dress and peeled it over your head. Leaving you bare in just your soaked panties.

Frank licked his lips and swiped a thumb over your pebbled nipple. “No bra tonight huh?” You feel his cock twitch under you.

You respond with a shake of your head, “Nuh uh. Best decision ever i think.”

“So beautiful.” He whispered and before you could say anything else. Frank cupped your breast and gave it a soft squeeze, running his thumb over a nipple, giving it a gentle pull. His lips suddenly came up to wrap around the other. You whimper when you feel him swirl his tongue around it with the occasional nibble.

Your cunt ached for more friction, so you plant your hands on his shoulders and you continue to grind back and forth on his erection.

Frank pulls off you with a pop to groan. Your teasing movements felt like torture, not fully satisfying. He could feel your wetness start to seep through his sweatpants. He tightened his grip around your hip to stop your grinding.

“Hold on sweetheart. Get up on your knees for a sec.”

You whimper and complained, “But you feel too good.”

“Do you want my dick in you or not?” He challenged, his own patience is wearing thin.

So you obliged. Struggling a bit to hover above him.

Frank got up slightly to push his sweatpants down. Not all the way, just enough to get his dick out, and you almost drooled at the sight.

He wasn’t wearing any underwear.

You let out a shaky breath as he thumbed your panties to the side; exposing your cunt to the cold air. Fingers slipping between your folds, feeling your wetness.

“Fuck baby. You weren’t lyin’ huh.” He then begins to push a finger into you, slowly dragging it in and out. Feeling out your walls and you bit your lip to muffle your noises as he pushed in a second finger. Leaving room for the slick noises of Frank fingering you to be heard.

“Shit.”

Frank shuffled closer and sucked your nipple into his mouth again, briefly this time; opting to lick up your neck instead. Softly nipping to leave his own set of marks.

“Frankie….” You whine, hand coming up to cradle his head.

His fingers were still thrusting rhythmically inside you, expertly causing you to arch further into his touch. But it wasn’t what you wanted.

“Frankieeee…Come on, put it in already. Please.” You attempt to pull off his fingers but his hand swiftly shot up to hold on to your waist as he jack hammered his fingers inside you.

“Fuck!” You yelp. His dick was so close, it was right there. Taunting you in all its glory.

He laid back to take your form in. “Not yet.” He growled.

“I want you to come for me once first.”

You threw your head back as you crumbled. He fucked his fingers into you harsher, palm now slapping against your swollen clit.

“Fffffuckk!” Your eyes roll back as you felt yourself cumming, giving yourself fully to the sensation. His fingers slow a bit as your muscles convulsed, giving you a semblance of a break.

“Atta girl.” He praised.

You closed your eyes and took ragged breaths as you came down from your high. Mouth still open to release soft noises of satisfaction.

Though your moment of rest was short lived. Your eyes shot open at the sound of something ripping.

“Frank!”

He threw what remained of your panties to somewhere around the room and was quick to grab hold of his dick.

“Breathe sweetheart.” He sighed out before pushing his whole girth inside of you in one swoop.

The stretch was imposing, but it was nothing you haven’t dealt with before.

With no time to waste, Frank starts to move in and out of your slick pussy and you tighten around him. Sucking him in, until his tip is lodged against your cervix. Always so deep in this position.

You collapsed into his chest weakly, body no longer strong enough to hold yourself up, and all you could do was take.

“Mmmh..Yesyesyes..fuuuuckkk..yesbaby. So fucking good.” You babble.

Frank fucked up into you just like you wanted, unforgiving and precise. Bottoming out at an angle that makes your stomach clench. His hands are suddenly on your ass to give it a few slaps. He groaned as he felt your cunt flutter around him from the act.

“Y’like that?”

You weakly nod as your drool seeps into his shirt.

He pounds into you harder now, the noises getting wetter, sloppier and stickier. With sweat running down his forehead from the exertion. So you aid him in his efforts to take you both to the peak and fucked back onto his dick to the best of your abilities. You’re sobbing, tears flowing out from the mind-melting pleasure.

You then feel his thrust start to falter. So you press into him, clawing at his shoulders, trembling.

“I’m gonna fucking cum.” He groaned into your ear and you swear the sound of him turns you on even more.

“Cum inside, fill me up. Please!”

You couldn’t tell how hard you were screaming. It felt like you lost control of your body, your voice, everything. It was all his to control, you had no say in anything.

With a final thrust of his hips, you reach your high. White sparks burst behind your lids as you came all over him. Frank kept his hand on your ass as he reached his own climax. Squeezing them roughly to make sure you don’t move a muscle as he pumped his cum inside you. Getting it as deep as it possibly could. Moaning as your cunt milked him dry.

To no surprise, his come was slipping down your thighs, your cunt already stuffed too full. Inconveniently dripping to his sweatpants as well.

“Damn. You’re getting me wet all over sweetheart.” He teased you fondly. Pushing you off his chest gently to take off his drooled-up shirt and letting you slump on his chest again now that he’s bare.

“M’sorry.” You mumble. “Can’t move.”

You felt a rumble in his chest as he chuckled deeply. “It’s okay baby. You’re good where you are.” He plants a kiss on your forehead as he wrapped his arms around you.

It took all of your strength to look up at him, “You make me so happy y’know that?” You murmured.

He looked down and his eyes soften at the sight of you. The corners of his mouth tipped upward at your statement.

“You do so much for me and i can only hope that i’m the same kind of person for you as well Frank.”

A heavy sigh flowed from him before he leaned over to kiss you.

“You’re much more than that to me sweetheart.”

꒷︶꒷꒥꒷‧₊˚꒷︶꒷꒥꒷‧₊˚ ꒷︶꒷꒥꒷‧₊˚꒷︶꒷꒥꒷‧₊˚ ꒷︶꒷꒥꒷‧₊˚꒷︶

Pulled a goddamn all nighter to finish this one because it kept screaming and tugging at me to complete for you guys. I seriously don’t know if anything makes sense, will be checking everything again once i finish my morning run. Oh,fun fact the nose conversation was inspired by a real conversation that me and my friend had lmao, i thought it was hilarious and so on theme.

Anyway,thank you so much for reading! You guys make me so happy and remember that likes, comments, reblogs make me even more so!

[mocchiixxx]

Birthday Bombshell

Genre: Fluff, Comedy, Surprise Visit, Idol!AU

🐶 Kim Mingyu x Reader

Summary: When your flight to Mexico gets delayed, you break the news to Mingyu that you won’t make it for his birthday, or so he thinks. Little does he know, you’re already on a backup flight, planning the sweetest surprise with the help of his members. What he expects to be a lonely night turns into the best birthday ever.

“I’m really sorry, babe... I won’t make it to Mexico after all.”

You hit send and immediately bit your lip, trying to stifle your grin as you adjusted your hoodie and sank into the plane seat. The flight attendants were already prepping for landing, and your heart was beating like crazy, not because you were nervous about flying, but because of the surprise that was about to go down.

The group chat with the Seventeen members had been blowing up since last night, and luckily, the boys were absolute legends for keeping your secret. Mingyu had no idea you were about to show up in Mexico for his birthday after he thought you’d miss it completely.

A few hours ago, your original flight had been delayed indefinitely due to some major airport malfunction, and you were devastated, especially since this trip had been in the works for weeks. You were supposed to fly out, see him perform at Tecate Pa’l Norte, then celebrate his birthday with him in Mexico. But as soon as the delay happened, you texted Mingyu, heart heavy, telling him you couldn’t make it.

What you didn’t tell him? You found another flight just two hours later. Chaotic? Yes. Expensive? Hell yes. Worth it? Every single cent.

Your phone buzzed.

Mingyu: It’s okay, baby. I understand. There’ll be other birthdays.

Your heart squeezed. The man deserved the world and here he was comforting you on his birthday.

Mingyu: I was just excited to show you around. And to cuddle. Mostly cuddle.

You almost texted back, “You’ll get more than cuddles in a few hours,” but decided that might give you away.

Instead, you replied:

You: I’ll make it up to you when you get back. I promise.

He sent a sad face emoji. Then a photo of him pouting dramatically, with “Sad birthday boy.” in the caption.

You saved it immediately. It was going on your lock screen later.

Hours Later: Hotel in Monterrey

The hotel suite was quiet, for once. Most of the members had gone out to get takeout or were pretending to be out, part of the plan to get Mingyu alone in the room.

He was lying on the couch in sweats, hair still damp from his post-concert shower, staring at the TV blankly.

“Even the cake’s not gonna taste good without her,” he muttered.

The door suddenly clicked.

He blinked. “Hyung?”

No answer.

He sat up.

“Joshua hyung? Dino?”

Still nothing.

Then he heard it.

The soft creak of the door opening all the way, followed by a very familiar voice—

“Room service for a sad birthday boy?”

Mingyu blinked.

Once.

Twice.

Three times.

Then he shot up from the couch like someone had set his pants on fire. “Y/N?!”

You stepped into the suite, arms full with a bag of takeout (the members helped you get it earlier), and a cupcake with a single candle.

“Happy birthday, Gyu,” you grinned.

He didn’t move. Just stared.

Then—

“You LIED TO ME?!” he half-yelled, but his voice cracked into a laugh as he crossed the room and pulled you into the tightest hug you’d ever received.

“You’re here? You’re here?!”

“I’m here,” you laughed into his chest, feeling his arms wrap around you like a vice. “Your birthday isn’t complete without me, right?”

He pulled back, eyes sparkling. “Wait, so—so the delayed flight? The texts? That was all fake?”

“Not fake! The delay was real. But I caught a new flight two hours later. And the guys helped keep the surprise.”

He blinked again, expression somewhere between stunned and betrayed and so in love.

“I was gonna cry over my birthday cake tonight,��� he said dramatically. “Do you realize what you almost made me do?”

You giggled, pulling him toward the table where you’d placed the cupcake. “Well, now you get to cry with joy. Make a wish, birthday boy.”

He leaned close to the candle, but paused.

“Already came true,” he said with that soft, dorky smile of his. “You’re here.”

You rolled your eyes, cheeks heating.

He blew out the candle and turned to you, taking your hands. “You really flew all the way to Mexico… just to be with me?”

“Of course I did. You think I’d let you spend your birthday without me?”

He leaned down to press his forehead to yours. “I seriously don’t deserve you.”

You grinned. “You better mean that when I ask for a shoulder massage later.”

He laughed, pulling you in for a kiss. “You got it. And I’m stealing at least half that cupcake.”

“Over my dead body, Kim Mingyu.”

“I am the birthday boy!”

“Which means you share!”

The door suddenly burst open and the members tumbled in, cheering and whistling like it was a surprise party, which, technically, it still was.

“Happy birthday, bro!” Vernon yelled, tossing a party hat at Mingyu.

Joshua walked over and slapped his back. “Your girl pulled it off. She’s cooler than you.”

“No argument here,” Mingyu beamed, one arm still wrapped around your waist.

Woozi raised an eyebrow. “Now can we eat? I’ve been holding back on that fried chicken for thirty minutes.”

You and Mingyu laughed, and as the members started setting up an impromptu birthday dinner on the hotel table, Mingyu turned to you one last time.

“Best birthday ever,” he whispered.

You smiled. “Told you I’d make it.”

He kissed your temple and whispered, “Remind me to never doubt you again.”

You leaned against his chest, happy, full of love, and already mentally planning how to outdo this for next year.

A/N: 20250406 Happy MINGYU's Day! 🥳🐶 My wish is for us to be together, but if that's not possible, just set me up with one of your friends or members instead. HAHAHAHA just kidding, enjoy your day our big puppy! Sending love🫶

[dicksapointed]

𝑺𝑯𝑨𝑹𝑰𝑵𝑮 𝑩𝑬𝑫𝑺 𝑾𝑰𝑻𝑯 𝑬𝑵- !

𝘚𝘔𝘜𝘛 !! 𝘚𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘴𝘶𝘨𝘨𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘷𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘯 𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘴.

HEESEUNG felt all too giddy with you in the same bed as him. he couldn’t help but sneak glances and looks here and there, especially when the moon cascaded over your little body compared to his. you barely took up half the bed in comparison to him, and don’t get him started on those short shorts and tank top that did horrible jobs at hiding your modesty. by one am, your legs are thrown over the creases of his elbows, his name rolling off your tongue like a mantra as your shorts dangled just over his shoulder. he couldn’t keep his desires at bay.

SUNGHOON acted tough like sharing a bed with you was no big deal, but on the inside it was an internal battle for him not to pop a boner. that stupid moomoo you wore that accentuated your breasts and ass definitely didn’t help keep one from forming in his sweats. he promised to keep it PG tonight but when you slid into bed besides him, smelling like a fresh sweet cake he couldn’t keep his hands off of you. he pulled orgasm after orgasm from you until your moomoo was somewhere over the clouds, your chest and throat covered in hickies he’d have to explain tomorrow.

JAY was decently good at keeping his composure. he had shared a bed with you numerous times, but this time it was different because this time you were his. with your ass pressed to his pelvis, his hand underneath your top, gently fondling your right breast he tried to lull off to sleep. but your whiny moans and twitching ultimately ruined all the composure he had. flipping you onto your stomach, he mounted from behind, tearing your shorts and panties off in a slick motion for better access. the others wouldn’t let you two share a room anymore because they got no sleep with how loud you were.

JAKE purposefully made sure every trip that you two ended up together, if that meant bribing everyone with lots of money so they’d willingly book a hotel with one less room for everyone. Jake would sadly break the news to you, pouting to really add to the bit. in the end, it worked in his favor because you’d be straddling him that night, his hair between your fingers as you rode him like your life depended on it. Jungwon would end up banging on the door, asking you two to kindly “shut the fuck up.”

SUNOO was nervous every time you had to bunk with him. he’d go the extra mile to make sure you were comfortable, he wouldn’t even sleep without socks. one night, all of that flew right out of the open window when you cuddled up to him, tucking your face into his collarbone. your soft whimpers of enjoyment fueled something inside of him, he tapped your back gently. it was nothing but fireworks from that night on, blissful orgasms that made both of you see stars and shake violently against one another.

JUNGWON being the leader it was only right that he let you bunk with him. he had a set of rules that seemed to go right through the floor when you came back from a steamy shower with dewy skin and a nighty that hugged your body in all the right places. you asked him if this was alright for his “rules”, whilst smoothing your hands down your body. he sucked in a deep breath, looking towards the door before ultimately deciding whether or not he wanted to be ridiculed in the morning. needless to say, after an eventful, blissful night with Jungwon, that nighty was ripped to shreds and he had to explain what all those weird sounds were last night.

NI-KI put his cold feet up the back of your shirt and kicked you off the bed with both very large feet.

K BYE!!

actually, before i leave i wanted to say thanks for all the reblogs and likes!!! i really appreciate whomever likes and blogs, thanks a ton! and please if you feel comfortable (AND 18+ because i’m not playing) leave some requests of what you wanna see and what member !! besides ni-ki <3

[muletia]

Please oh great one, I beg of thee to give merform deception crumbs. I want to tease the big evil fishies. I want to bite merformer Megatron affectionately and then pretend to be oblivious to it, I want to be spoilt by mer Knockout and spoil him back with pretty shells, I want to tame merform Starscreams tsundere ass and scratch n pet his helm till he's whining affectionatly

mer!megatron x human!reader mer!knockout x human!reader x mer!breakdown mer!starscream x human!reader no specified iteration

Fuck it, I caved in, merformers content. Somewhere in the world it must be May first already, right?

Also, everyone is soft-bodied because that's my guilty pleasure

Megatron (axolotl, based on this concept)

Huge, powerful arms covered in scales wrap around your waist, shielding most of your back, holding you tightly against the stomach of the massive mer and grounding you against him. Every attempt to pull away, to increase the distance even by a single milimeter ends in failure when a warning, guttural growl paralyzes your body, commanding you to stay. Right here. With him. After all, you left your lonely, proud axolotl for two weeks — now it’s time to pay him back for making him wait, for taking away his only source of comfort in this forsaken place, this lake of despair in the middle of nowhere.

And Megatron needs to make sure you understand why he’s "punishing" you this way. What kind of agony your absence threw him into, even if he was already used to deadlier stretches of time without contact with another soul. You shifted his thresholds of tolerance, and now you had to pay. He just happened to take advantage of your closeness, feeling his resentment toward you wash off of him as easily as water. He couldn’t stay mad at you for long. Not anymore.

Annoyed, though — that, yes. A sudden, subtle bite to his bicep pulls him out of the bliss of closeness. A single growl sends a warning, continuing to test the fragile string of his nerves might not end too kindly for you, but when red optics glance at you inquisitively, you pretend you did nothing. That the pathetic little bite wasn’t your doing, which almost offends him. Do you really think he’s a fool? Your naivety also holds a delicious flavor for him, and he’s not about to let it slide.

"You send me an invitation to mate, and now you act all innocent?" he says, knowing full well you can’t understand him, not yet, but he intends to hammer his intentions into your mind with a low, husky tone, which apparently works judging by your flustered reaction. "Let me show you what love bites really look like," he adds, opening his maw to reveal two rows of razor-sharp predator teeth. He wastes no time sinking into your neck, leaving behind his affection.

Knockout (lionfish) + Breakdown (blue shark)

Perched on a large rock close to the shore, the red mer watches from the corner of his optic as you wander nearby, head lowered and eyes fixed intently on the flawlessly clear water. His helm rests on crossed forearms, tracking your movements for some time now, trying to decipher your strange little human game. It didn’t look interesting, and frankly, he couldn’t care less, but with nothing better to do while Breakdown went out hunting, Knockout decided to indulge you with his presence. He hoped you’d return the favor and shower him with your full attention, but you had your boring plans. He barely holds back an annoyed click of his tongue. Boring! Dreadfully boring!

"Heeey, couldn’t you do something more exciting? Like, I don’t know, me?" he calls out to you, but all he gets in response is a quick smile. You go right back to whatever it is you were searching for.

Offended by your lukewarm reaction, he huffs and rolls his optics, returning to sunbathing with no real purpose, keeping one optic on your movements. His tail, streaked with white and red smears of scales, slaps the surface of the water a few times.

Only after a while does the quiet of nature break with your excited squeal. Knockout lifts his helm from his arms and watches you rush toward him, splashing the water awkwardly with your feet. In your hands, you’re holding a giant conch shell that perfectly matches the colors of his scales. A strange glint flashes in his red optics, but you don’t notice it through your excitement.

"For me?" Knockout asks, pointing a claw at himself. Only when you nod enthusiastically does he take the conch from you and briefly admire it before purring with delight. "Thank you, darling. And since you’re already so close, allow me to take advantage."

Before you can blink, his free arm wraps around your back and pulls you in, completely ignoring your startled squeak, rubbing his conveniently dry helm against your head, grateful that you saved him from his boredom. He couldn’t wait to show your find to Breakdown and for the two of them to show you just how grateful they were that you began your courting.

Starscream (sailfish)

The growl escaped him by accident, a primal instinct urging him to defend his mate from danger. The problem was that you weren’t his mate (yet), and there was no danger. He just didn’t like how close that harmless fish got, breaking his sweet little idyll of you stroking his helm. When you pulled your hand back, startled by his sudden reaction, it left behind a strange emptiness that gnawed at his spark. Your touch had been pleasant, soothing. It belonged where it was — on his helm. Worshipful and adoring.

Starscream wants more of what he is owed.

"Bring that weird human hand back here," he demands and grabs your wrist, pulling it back onto his helm. Apparently a bit too forcefully, because you almost tumble into the lagoon he was currently submerged in up to the waist, but Starscream wasn’t about to apologize, even as your accusatory glare burns into him. "Worship me, human," he commands, and you obey, even without understanding his shrill chirps.

You stroke the top of his helm, and Starscream melts under your touch, sinking down into the sand and purring in contentment. "You are surprisingly fit to be my mate," he sighs, webbed servos kneading the sand in bliss like a happy, relaxed cat pawing at a cushion.

You take that as an invitation to move a bit lower, running the edge of your hand along his faceplate until you reach his chin, which you begin to gently scratch, right before Starscream accuses you of slacking off.

"W-what are you doing?!" he cries out, but it’s a bluff, the initial shock caused by the overwhelming joy of an unknown sensation of chin scratches. His tail starts swaying gently on its own, stirring the surface of the water, and a sweet little whine escapes his intake, begging you not to stop. Starscream doesn’t even notice your wide, satisfied smile, hypnotized by the addictive power of your touch.

[sevsevteen]

Back then, you were a little gremlin in oversized sweatpants and way too much attitude for someone barely of age.

“Yah!” Seungcheol’s voice bellowed from the hallway, the third time that day. “This is your third missed practice this week - are you serious right now?!”

You rolled your eyes, lazily pulling your hoodie over your head. “I wasn’t missing practice,” you muttered under your breath. “I had something to do after school.”

“You were at the convenience store eating instant noodles!” Jihoon called out from the studio entrance, holding up a half-empty cup you'd left behind.

“Still counts,” you huffed, slinking back into the room, zero shame in your posture as you plopped onto the floor gracefully, as if your ear hadn't tore your ears off right before.

The older members groaned in unison.

“You’re going to give Seungcheol grey hair before debut,” Jeonghan muttered, massaging his temples.

“Me?” You gasped. “I’m helping him pre-age.”

When the manager returned from a meeting later that afternoon and asked how rehearsals were going, you gave him a thumbs up and said, “Teamwork makes the dream work!”

Behind you, Seungcheol visibly mouthed, Help me.

It was later that night that you snuck out your room past lights-out timing, crawling across the floor in full spy mode, and dumping a full bag of glitter into the shared shampoo bottle.

“Why is my head SPARKLING?” Seokmin screeched the next morning, towel around his neck, hair dripping with disco ball residue.

Joshua squinted at him. “You look like you fought a unicorn in the shower.”

Soonyoung turned to you, who sat cross-legged on the floor, chewing gum with feigned innocence.

“Why are you looking at me? You have no evidence.”

Joshua? Had his toothpaste swapped with wasabi paste a week later.

One night, they found you hiding in the supply closet, mid-text to Jun about “fake stomach cramps” because you refused to do conditioning.

“Hey,” Seungcheol said from the doorway, arms crossed.

“...I have an allergy,” you deadpanned.

“To what?”

“Authority.”

.

And yet - despite the chaos, the late-night lectures, the silent treatment from a furious Jun once because you sabotaged his water bottle with vinegar, they never pushed you away.

Until it did.

Perhaps your true villain arc peaked then. Because you swore it had started out like every other prank, every other dumb teen instinct to feel untouchable. The world felt like a sandbox you could dig into without consequence.

So when your old school friends dared you to skip training again and “do something fun for once,” you didn’t hesitate. You pulled a mask over your face, hoodie up, and snuck off into the city night like the chaos incarnate you believed yourself to be.

You held cans of spray paint. Loud music in one pocket, cheap energy drinks in the other. Somewhere in a quiet alleyway, far from the agency’s radar, the group of you left trails of color behind - tagging walls, drawing dumb phrases in neon, laughing into the silence like you were invincible.

You didn’t even think about who those walls belonged to.

Not until the police sirens flashed behind you.

Your heart dropped. Suddenly, it wasn’t funny anymore.

The cuffs were cold on your wrists. The alley that once felt like a playground now closed in on you like a trap. You kept your head low when the officers called the company.

Kept it lower when you saw Seungcheol walk into the station lobby.

He didn’t speak to you at first. Just signed the papers. Took a deep breath. Thanked the officers. And then turned to you, eyes unreadable.

The ride back was silent.

Not angry.

Not disappointed.

Just…hollow.

That was worse.

.

You sat in the bedroom alone after you returned, guilt eating you from the inside out. Everyone else had heard by now, and Seungcheol still refused to hold a conversation with you. The dorm was quiet. Like even the air was careful around you.

When Jeonghan finally came in, he didn’t yell. He didn’t joke. He just sat beside you, looked at your red-rimmed eyes, and said softly:

“You could’ve been in real danger, you know. Seungcheol and Jihoon's talking to the company about your expulsion right now.”

“I didn’t think,” you whispered. “I just…didn’t think anyone cared what I did.”

His voice cracked, low and pained.

“We all care.”

You looked up, finally meeting his eyes.

.

You trained harder after that.

Not to prove yourself.

Not to repent.

But because you wanted to be someone they didn’t have to worry about.

Someone they could trust again.

There were tough days. Days you didn’t listen. Days you walked out of the room mid-discussion, frustrated with rules and pressure and all the weight of growing up under a spotlight.

But behind every scolding, every punishment, was a member gently slipping a snack into your hoodie pocket. A word of advice muttered when the cameras weren’t rolling. A hand patting you on the back when you sat alone on the practice room floor after being yelled at.

And slowly, with every sincere action, with every practice where you pushed yourself till your limbs ached – you grew up.

You never touched a can of paint again.

And slowly, that rebellious flame? Learned to burn brighter in the right direction.

.

And years later, Mingyu bought you a canvas and a paintbrush on your birthday with a cheeky smile - “For artistic purposes only, I promise” - you laughed so hard you cried.

--

[francixoxoxo]

*.• ☏ Handyman, on speed dial! .+ *

mikey berzatto x reader

One big perk of dating Mikey; he’s willing to fix whatever breaks in your apartment, with or without you asking him to.

Mikey would do just about anything you asked, get you anything you needed— the second you needed it. So it’s no surprise that, even before he moves in, he becomes your personal handyman for all your crappy-and-busted-apartment needs.

The first time, the two of you were lying on your couch, Mikey dozing off while you laid your head on his chest and watched the Netflix drama he picked (even though he clearly didn’t like his choice very much.) You muttered, “It’s so stupid cold in this place.”

Your boyfriend grumbled as he roused, the sound vibrates in his firm chest and against your cheek. “I’ll go turn up the thermostat.” His calloused hands moved to your upper arms, beginning to gently move you off of him.

“S’busted,” you shake your head, lifting it off him and meeting his eye. Mikey’s brows draw, he nods a little.

“How long’s it been broken?” He huffs. You shrug. Maybe a month. But it was March, you knew the city was just about to warm up anyway. Springtime in Chicago, you joked. He didn’t sound convinced.

He came back the next day with a toolbox, a shirt he didn’t mind getting dirtier than it already was, and got to work. You cooed a million thank-you’s, but he shrugged them all off. He did ask for an espresso, though, which you happily made as payment for the repair.

Well, the repair and the view both— Mikey looked pretty damn good kneeling on the floor in front of your radiator, his brow perpetually furrowed and his lips parted in focus. Not to mention the way his biceps popped from cranking the wrench he was using to unscrew bolts and loosen whatever the issue was. After a few hours (with a lunch break,) he stands up, his hands on his hips, dark eyes moving twixt the radiator, the vents, and the thermostat critically, like he’s intimidating them into functioning. “All right. Try now.”

When you turn the heat on, the radiator finally churns and buzzes to life. Mikey gives you an only-a-little-smug, downturned smile, lifting his shoulders as if to say, no biggie. You give him a shower of kisses, Y’know, just in the minor, tiny case that it is a big deal; and the absolute tiny, less-than-zero chance your boyfriend is very proud of being able to do something for you.

And it’s definitely an upside, having a man who’ll look at any home project you present and shrug, narrowing his eyes and looking the thing up and down, grumbling that, “I can get it done, yeah. Don’t worry.”

When you call him, stress lilting your words, it’s like a radar goes off somewhere in his brain. “Michael,” that’s where he knows something’s gotta be wrong, “my sink’s leaking, I put down towels, turned off the tap but it’s still— it’s still fucking leaking, I don’t know what to do. Can you—“

“Yeah. ‘Course. Getting in the car now, sweetheart, calm down.” Mikey in fact was not getting in the car just then, he was standing behind the counter at The Beef, clapping Richie on the shoulder and announcing that he had to head out. He waved off his guffawing. His restaurant, anyway. Wasn’t like they’d die if he wasn’t in the building. You probably would, on the other hand, so he doesn’t feel so bad about cutting a few people off on the way to your apartment.

The next few hours are spent holding a flashlight for him while he grimaces at the pipes under your sink, his toolbox ajar and out of the way of the soaked towels he’s kneeling on. Occasionally he asks for a different type of wrench, and you feel very helpful fetching each one for him, or turning on and off the water when he asks; even though your man is the one stooped over, practically tearing apart the piping and starting over. He gets sprayed now and then with water, and it doesn’t get any less funny to you. He scoffs after maybe the second time his shirt gets wet, wiping off his neck with the backs of his fingers, “You crack yourself up, huh?”

When Mikey stands, stretching his back a little, he grunts, “All right. You, sweetheart, have a working sink again.” You sigh in relief, lifting onto your tiptoes and pressing a kiss onto his scratchy cheek.

“You’re a saint,” you grin at him in a way that makes him forget the fact his pants are wet from the knees down and his shirt is spattered with water. He hums indifferently, shrugging his shoulders and giving you a shy, humble smile.

Mikey once noticed that the door into your bedroom was creaking. You didn’t even complain about it, or mention it at all, but maybe he just needed to do something with his hands. You got home from work late to find the door leaning against the wall beside the frame, your boyfriend unscrewing each hinge with an electric drill and replacing them with shiny new ones. “Mikey?” A soft laugh parts your lips, you kick off your kitten heels. He throws his head over his shoulder while you walk closer and brush a hand along his shoulder, up his nape and through his dark hair.

“Fixing the door,” he explains, as if you can’t see him sitting crisscrossed on the floor, surrounded by screws and hinges, old and new. He grins at you like proudly, this forty year old man with a stubbled jaw oddly reminding you of a little boy showing you a mud pie he’s made. You quirk a brow and he shrugs. “It’s.. noisy.”

“Uh-huh.” You look over your shoulder at the door propped against the wall, crossing your arms. “Do you want help? Or are you too macho?”

Mikey huffs a laugh, a smile creasing his eyes endearingly. “I’m the perfect amount of macho, baby. And no. Go get comfy.” He tilts his chin to your office clothes, a pencil skirt and neat button up. You hum, step around the mess of screws, nuts and hinges, and into the bedroom.

“Well I don’t have a door anymore. Where’s my privacy?” You huff, grinning at Mikey eyeing you through his brows as the drill whirs to life and he screws in a hinge.

“You want me to close my eyes handling heavy machinery?” You shake your head at him. Heavy machinery being an electric hand drill.

If he was annoying (not really!), atleast he was stupid handsome. His arms are defined by the strain, the muscles of his broad chest perfectly hugged by his gray shirt. With the way you’re staring, you’re not much better than a man. You go about unbuttoning your top, shrugging it off your arms and letting it fall crumpled on the floor.

“Y’know…” You pull one of his big shirts he left in your apartment, absolutely never to be returned to the original owner, over your head. “I was wondering if you could install this new ceiling fan I got.”

Mikey sits back a bit, straightening his back and cocking a brow in your direction. “You’re really puttin’ me to work.” But you give him a sugar-sweet smile, turning your cheek just so, and his lips turn downward in a why not? expression.

“Don’t you worry ‘bout it, sweetheart. I got it.” Definitely one of the perks of dating Mikey; you had a particularly handsome, personal handyman on speed dial.

[magics-neptunes-things]

Boom Clap (The sound of my heart)

Hi guys!

This is a second one from the world "Lia & The Firefighter" but you don't have to read it before reading this one. They are related but not like a serie, I don't know if it make sense 😂

It was from an ask so I hope you will be happy with this one, dear anon ♥

Please enjoy!

TW : Firefighter job, injury, blood, fire.

Girl on Fire is the other One Shot of the Serie.

Also the hottie on the right picture is @ylenia94riniti on Instagram.

You like to say that you know Lia by heart and that you can understand her moods and her thoughts really quickly. It’s usually right to be honest, she has almost no secrets for you. But it has to be said that the contrary is right too.

You were already working as a firefighter when you met her and by time she learned to know when you have a bad day. Or when you try to hide something to her, like the fact you almost fall of a bridge while rescuing someone. She knows it’s to protect her but sometimes she hates how you can be so selfless about yourself and your health. Because of that, she takes care of you like she could, making you meal or massive sandwiches to take with you when you are working and being sure that you always have everything you want at her home. Of course, you told her that it’s not what matters to you, but she just glares at you and don’t answer anything.

Today started like always. You waked up and went for a run, then took a shower before going to wake Lia up. Then you had your breakfast together and Lia went to training while you were leaving for work. When you are working during the day, that is usually how you organize your day. After work you find each other at your house, or at Lia’s, to enjoy a night together. Or you go to watch Lia play, it depends on the schedule.

You had several interventions during the day, but nothing really surprising. Then, less than one hour before you finish your day, the alarm sound in the fire station and like your colleagues, you take your things and run to the truck.

While they are driving you there, you learn about the situation very little by little. At the end, you understand that the case is a massive fire in a commercial center, but you don’t know how many people are hurt, if you will be needed inside to evacuate people or somewhere in or around the building to fight the fire.

It’s your job anyway and you have to do it. You don’t really like the moment just before the action, it makes you nervous. When you are in, you are focused and do your things. Now, while you are finishing your RedBull, your mind is racing.

“Alright Y/L/N?”

“Yeah” you only answer.

Your Commander smirks softly and pat your arm. He knows you very well, he was the one being your instructor during your first months at the fire station. He’s still the one scolding you when you need to be.

Your mind went to Lia when you look at the clock, only to realize that she must be at the end of her training. You were supposed to have a casual night in, but you know that she won’t pout if you are coming home later. She’s way more comprehensive that you had ever hope.

But you aren’t able to think about your girlfriend for too long. Soon you arrive at the commercial center, and you understand that you didn’t understand how chaotic all of this would be. There are ambulances everywhere, people are running around. There are screams, cry, people calling each other. But you have to ignore all of that to stay focused.

You follow the order of your Commander, going to help where he asks you to. When he asks you to manage a team for him, you do it without a second thought. You help the medical teams when they need to, and you help to extinguish the fire when you are called for it.

“Where does it come from?” you ask-shout your Commander at one point.

“We don’t know for now. They are talking about putting some of us inside to find it.”

You nod before focusing on your team again and continue to work. You have lost any idea of the time since you are here, but it doesn’t matter for now. The sky is way less clear when your Commander comes to you again, grabbing your arm to have your attention.

“They ask me to give my best men to go inside the building and look where the fire comes from” he says to you.

You don’t roll your eyes like you would love to, you hate the fact that they are talking about “men” and not “people” or “firefighter”.

“Understood, Sir” you answer with a straight face.

He smiles softy, understanding very easily what you are thinking. But he doesn’t comment it, choosing to continue what he needs to say to you.

“I told them that you were the best. So you will go inside with a team I’ll manage from outside, with talkie walkie and a camera that you will have on your helmet. Understood?”

“Yes, Sir”

He looks at you for several seconds before nodding.

“Take some minutes to rest inside our truck, cool off, drink some water and eat something. Do something to change your mind. I’m coming in twenty minutes to give you your other uniform.”

“Yes, Sir” you answer once again.

He then makes you sign to go, and you oblige. You are happy to take your uniform off, breathing completely some oxygen without smoke. Like he requests, you drink a bottle of water, eat a banana and cereal bare. You use a little bit of water to wash your face and go to the toilets. Then you try to remember what he asked you to do.

Rest, drink water, eat something, change your mind.

You didn’t change your mind.

Biting your lip, you take your phone and wonder some seconds if it’s really a good idea. But then you decide to ignore your thoughts and press the call button.

It rings three times before Lia picks up.

“Hello?”

You have to clear your voice before talking.

“Hi, Cookie. It’s me.”

“Is everything okay?”

You can hear the concern in her voice. Maybe it wasn’t really a good idea to call her, it was probably selfish of you.

“Yeah hum, I will come late at home, I think. Maybe don’t wait for me and go to bed. Or maybe you can go to Leah?”

“She’s not home tonight, but I’ll be fine by myself, don’t worry.”

“I’m sorry for cancelling our night.”

“Don’t, it’s ok, really. I understand Pookie. Of course I would rather being with you, but I’m far from mad, yeah?” she says, her voice softer than ever.

You nod and there is a little silence. You would rather for her to be with someone, you know she will be less worried if she’s with one of her friend. You wonder what Lia is thinking about.

“You promise me that everything is fine?” she asks again.

“Yeah, I… I just wanted to hear your voice”

You can’t see your girlfriend, but you are almost sure that she’s rolling her eyes right now. It makes you smile softly.

“Do you remember the only time when you tried to hide me something?”

“Of course I do” you smile.

Flashback

It was stupid of you. Both wanting to hide your injury and your injury itself. It was at the beginning of your relationship with Lia, you were officially together for four months, even if you started dating for six months now.

When you took the call, you didn’t expect things to go that way, to be honest. It was just a fight between two group of teenagers, nothing you couldn’t handle. It’s one of the first things you learned to manage, so you didn’t really thing twice before going and getting involved in this story.

Still while resting at your place, of course, your superiors are here and you won’t take their job.

“Hey guys, what’s going on?” your Commander asks some teenagers.

They probably are like 16 or 17, like your little brother. Even if he is probably at school right now.

You hear several of them talking animatedly to him, explaining what the point in this fight is. You don’t understand a lot to be honest, but it seems to be a fight during two groups on the same neighborhood. When they mention that the other group is hiding somewhere and waiting for them, your Commander sighs.

“Ok, I’ll call the police” he says, before turning in your direction. “Y/L/N, Scott, go have a look around please.”

You nod and follow the instructions, looking behind you to be sure that Scott is following you. He is. You don’t mind being in front of the two when you realize after having waited for him that he doesn’t want to be next to you. You don’t care, even if you don’t know really good this place.

You are scanning the area, trying to learn some things from here when someone shout at you from the other side. It seems to you that the voice comes from the height of a building, and you are looking for it before feeling an awful pain next to your ribs.

Several hours later, you are coming home. You groan when you see that Lia’s car is here, meaning that she is waiting for you inside. You are always thrilled to have her, but not tonight. You however put a big smile on your face when she smiles at you when you enter your house.

“Hi, Beautiful” you great her with a big smile and a kiss on her cheek.

She’s sitting on a stool in your kitchen, and you can see that she cooked something behind her. You keep a straight face when she passes her arms around your waist.

“I made us chicken creamy pasta, is that ok?” she asks, following your gaze.

“It’s perfect. Do you mind if I take a shower before eating?”

“Of course not” she smiles.

You kiss her forehead and her lips several times before going to the bathroom adjoining your bedroom. You close the door softly behind you and immediately let yourself go against the door, relieved not to have to hide your pain anymore.

You quickly get rid of your shirt and went to face the mirror. The cut you received while being stabbed earlier today isn’t very deep, but it still hurt like a bitch. You didn’t want to go to the hospital, you gave yourself the care it needed in your opinion, but maybe some painkiller won’t be a bad idea.

You sigh when you realize that you are bleeding again. Scott saw what happened and call your Commander even if you told him not to. You are ashamed of how you got hurt, to be honest. It was a stupid injury made stupidly by a stupid person.

You wince with pain when you press some compress on your stomach, trying to stop the bleeding. You still pressing against it while hiding the bloody bandage who were covering your wound until now, not wanting for Lia to find them. You don’t want to worry her. You must have taken way more time than you thought because soon Lia is knocking on the door.

“Are you ok in here?” Lia asks softly.

“Yeah. I’m coming” you answer, grimacing again while putting another bandage on your body.

You really hope that Lia wasn’t thinking about having some naughty activities tonight.

After that you take a very quick shower and went to your room to put some fresh underwear with a jogging and a black top tank, in case you start bleeding again, you won’t scare your girlfriend to death.

“Sorry I took so long” you excuse yourself to Lia when you meet her again in the kitchen.

You pass your arm around her waist this time, very careful not to touch your injury with her body.

“No worries. Should we eat now?”

You nod, trying to help her dress the table but she’s faster than you are. You roll your eyes playfully but let her do it, happy to see her so at ease in your house. It’s pretty early in your relationship but you are so in love with her. You still feel like you need to be careful with her though, not wanting to scare her. She never seemed to be against your job, but you both decided that you will not talk to her about what you are seeing during your days. At first you thought that it was because she will be maybe disgusted by things, but you realized some weeks before that it was because she is scared for you.

“It’s delicious Babe” you praise her.

You smile when you see her blushing and you grab her hand softly to intervenes your fingers. You ask her about her day and listen to her with attention. You met her friends some time ago and you are able to put a face on every name. You have to admit that you go to watch her play every time you can too.

After the dinner you decided to watch a movie and let Lia chose something. Cuddling with her is usually your favorite moment of the day, but you realize very quickly that you will have trouble to find a good position.

You finally pass your leg on Lia’s, your hand around her stomach and put your face on her shoulder. All of that while she’s sitting with her leg extended on the long part of your L couch.

“Comfy?” she asks.

You nod and don’t see her smile because of your position, but you feel her kiss your head, and you rub your face softly against her hoody. During the movie, you can feel her fingertip drawing the tattoos on your arm and for once you really want for her to keep her arm here. She just has to pass it under your tank and you’re screwed.

“You’re tense, Pookie” she whispers when there only is twenty minutes of the movie.

“Am I?”

You are. You are a ball of nerves and when Lia hums before searching your lips for a kiss it’s even worse. But you kiss her softly, stroking her face with your thumb.

“It just was a long day” you say before kissing her cheek and resume your position.

Lia doesn’t push it, holding your tighter against her. Your injury is pounding and you can’t wait to take another painkiller, stronger this one maybe. You didn’t went to the hospital, so you don’t have any prescriptions. You try to steady your breathing, jaw a little more tense than usual.

It’s a relief when the movie is finished, but you can’t jump on your feet and just run to the bathroom. In fact, the make out session you have with Lia after it almost make you forget your state. Until you see your girlfriend frown softly.

“Why are you wet here?” she frowns, looking at your stomach.

You frown too and automatically put a hand where your wound is. Fuck. Your tank is indeed damp. And when you remove your hand, it’s red.

“Y/N?! What the fuck!”

You don’t know if you are more stunned about the blood or your girlfriend’s dirty word.

Long story short, she takes you to the hospital without you saying anything. She scowled you for almost ten minutes after you saw the doctor and you felt like a little child. But since that moment, you never hide this kind of things to her.

“I’m not lying though, I really just wanted to hear your voice” you point softly.

Lia hums before talking again.

“Are you at the fire station?”

“No”

“Are… Are you at the commercial center?”

“Y/N!”

You jump when you hear your commander’s voice. You turn to see him coming for you. Was it twenty minutes already?

“I have to go, Cookie. See you soon yeah?”

“Yes. Be safe, please?”

“Promise. I love you, Lia.”

“I love you too.”

You hang up and raise your eyes on your commander. He’s smirking at you but doesn’t say anything. He likes Lia a lot, they met several times, and he told you that you couldn’t have found a better match. You are agreeing with him about it. Lia has everything you were looking for.

“You could have said to here I say hi.”

“I will next time, Sir.”

You are smiling softly too. It’s probably the first time since you left the fire station. It finally was a good thing to have call her, you feel a little more focused and calmer. You follow your Chief where you are waited and start to take the instructions. What you have to do is clear in your mind.

You take the lead of the other firefighters and go inside the mall. Everything is blurry and probably hot, but you don’t feel anything thanks to your new uniform.

Following what was told to you, you advance slowly but are looking around for your safety and of course, you have to find where the fire comes from. You don’t see anything for now, the fire is on another level. After sharing this information, you go to the floor above you.

You take some minutes there too, the heath is getting hotter and you are sure that you are getting closer to the source of the problem. There is only the sound of the fire, but it was until a shrill whistle catch your attention.

“Wait. They cutted the gas, right?” you ask around to the four other men who are with you.

“They told us they did” one of them confirms you.

“Please ask for a confirmation. Until you have it, don’t move.”

The man who answered you take his talkie-walkie to exchanged with the team outside while you take the direction of the sound. It really sounds like a gas leak but it’s hard to find the right place with all the other noises around. You are so concentrated that you almost jump out your skin when you hear one of the men calling you.

“Y/L/N we have to get out! They forgot that part of the building!”

At the same time, you find the source of the whistle, and it doesn’t look good.

Shit.

“I’m fine for fuck’s sake, leave me alone!”

You are sitting on a hospital bed, an oxygen mask on your face and two doctors around you, trying to make you hear reason. Your Commander is here too, seeming to have the time of his life.

“Miss, please lie down” one of them says.

You groan in exasperation. You were still inside the building when the explosion happens, but you aren’t hurt. You breathed gas though and that’s why you are here. But you just want to go home.

Your Commander push on your shoulder to make you oblige, what you do before pressing your finger against your eyebrows. You are going to explode too.

“Don’t worry, her girlfriend is coming, she will behave way more better with her around” your Commander says at your doctors with an unmissable amazement in his voice.

“Lia’s coming?” you raise your head.

“The team called her.”

Great. A good new, at last. If they tell you that you have to stay here for the night, you might lose it. In fact, the promise of Lia’s coming is enough for you to cool off a little. You don’t have your phone with you, so you weren’t able to inform her about what happened yourself.

You let the medical team do their job, even if you keep a scold on your face all the process.

Lia arrives several minutes after, knocking softly on the door. She looks worried and you frown. What did your team say to her? She seems relieved to see you sitting on the bed, even if your Commander put a hand on you to keep you from getting up when you try.

“Good evening Lia. I’ll let you alone” he says, smiling warmly at your girlfriend.

Lia greats him back, before turning in your direction when he leaves the room. It’s passed midnight now and she’s usually already asleep. She seems exhausted and worried.

“I’m fine” you say when she reaches you.

Lia doesn’t answer anything, but you can see her scanning every part of your body visible with this awful hospital dress.

“Are you hurt somewhere?”

You shake your head for only answer, adding a “I swear” when she looks at you with skepticism. Your discussion earlier comes back in your mind, and you take her hand in yours before talking again. It’s going to be hard not to tell her everything but still enough for her to stop worrying.

“I breathed some gas and my oxygen level was a little low” you explain. “They wanted me here to be sure that my body was recovering correctly.”

“Wait, were you inside the commercial center?”

You don’t know how she knows that, but after you remember that she might have listened the radio or something while coming to see you. So you just nod and shrug before talking again.

“We were almost outside when it exploded�� you admit. “The team forgot to cut the gas where we were but when we learned that we get out as soon and quickly as possible.”

You can see panic in Lia’s eyes and that’s exactly what you don’t want. What if she leaves you because she’s too scared about your job? You won’t recover from this; you would rather explode with a building.

“But you’re fine, yes?” she asks finally.

“I am. I promise, Cookie.”

She nods softly before hugging you. At least. You can feel your body totally relax against hers and you close your eyes, hiding your face in her neck. Her smell, the heath of her body, everything from her is comforting for you.

“Thanks for being careful and coming back to me” she says after several times.

“Every time” you mumble back. “As long as you are not tired of me”

“Never.”

She squeeze you against her and you take advantage of your position to hide your face in her breast, before she kiss your forehead.

You are suddenly very tired, but it has nothing to do with the gas this time. Now that Lia is here, you feel good again. She’s stroking your neck with her fingertips, and you kiss hers several times, smiling softly when you see the goosebumps on her skin.

“I’m so in love with you, Li” you whisper softly.

She slowly and tenderly takes your face between her hands to kiss you tenderly. You kiss her back, of course.

“I love you too, so much” she whispers against your lips before pecking them several more times.

Still smiling, you let her. You would never refuse her a kiss anyway. After that she keeps your face in her hands and look at you closely.

“You look tired. You should probably sleep.”

“Stay with me?”

“Of course.”

In fact, you managed to take her with you in your bed, cuddling against her body with a sigh of relief. Maybe you can stay here after all, if Lia is here.

[h3nderyss]

you as wayv's 7th member (headcanons)

pairing: ot6 x fem!reader . . . masterlist . . . 127 ver dream ver genre: fluff a/n: romantic headcanons for each member if you were the 7th member and only girl in wayv! u can imagine if ur in a secret relationship or not!

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

kun

checks on u 24/7

PRINCESS TREATMENTTTT

like always makes sure ur comfortable no matter where u go

long walks around the city omg

would absolutely love to take u to traditional locations in china

i swear his love is like a warm blanket

u guys would always go on livestreams tg

it'd actually be surprising to the fans if once u go live without him

sometimes at practice he'd show up with ur fav food

if ur sad expect him to hold ur hand thru anything.

he makes sure ur not going through anything alone

even like predebut, yall just had a CONNECTION.

it was practically like u guys were destined to be tg, like there was just that feeling that he was the one

i can only imagine how many cdramas u guys would watch tg

ten

right off the bat expect one of his songs to be about u

he'd def call u "my love" but in thai

that's how special u are to him

oh also expect him to teach u thai too

u guys r literally THE dance duo of nct

lowkey in one of his music videos he'd want u to be a backup dancer or maybe like.. the female lead

he'd send u all of those selfies with his cats bc he knows how much u love them

whenever ur over it's like who do u love more? ten or his cats?

to which he'd be playfully jealous then shower u with kisses

whenever ur overwhelmed by work he'd insist on taking u out somewhere

honestly before he posts any selfies he'd send them ALL to u beforehand

just so that u have special access to his photos before the official release LOL

if he takes u to an art museum he'd constantly say "but you're prettier."

his tattoos r sooo special to u, and he loves it when u admire them

winwin

he's kinda reserved but when it comes to u he is SO vulnerable

he's so nonchalant lol but u know him and whatever he's feeling

nobody is as close to him as u are

he'd make sure to text u everyday no matter how busy he is

bc of actor winwin, we get CRUMBS.

but ur the only thing on his mind if he's back in china while ur in korea promoting

his actions speak volumes

if the crowd is too big somewhere he will always pull u closer

WOULD tie ur hair back for u if he sees it's bothering u during practice or whenever

honestly he didn't expect to fall for u but.. look where he is

absolutely smitten

xiaojun

his love is so intense

he'd GAZE at u whenever u talk like he'd pay no attention to anything around him

he'd cuddle up to u just like a cat

he's so silly like u 2 r the chaotic duo of nct

both of u are chronically online and would never miss out on a tiktok trend

he'd peck ur lips every now and then just to be silly

and always surprise u hugging u behind ur waist with NO warning

if ur relationship is public i feel you'd do lots of couple trends on tiktok too

he'd sing for u ALWAYS

ask to sing him whatever song and he will

knows all ur fav things and would do anything

pls convince him to bring back the oreo hair. (he will upon ur request)

his favourite intimate thing with u is making out lol

hendery

always makes u laugh

surprises u with plushies, knows how much u love them

during content vids fans would suspect on why he's always around u

and when he's on livestreams, he talks abt u

maybe a littleeee too much...

omg whenever he sneaks looks at u it's enough to make u weak

would always find ways to cheer u up

honestly, his presence is enough!

ur relationship would be soft launched by ur matching posts on insta..

and matching clothes...

wouldd let u play with his hair, pls do it more

he's honestly like rlly touchy

i feel like sm would make a statement confirming the relationship like 2-3yrs after debut

yangyang

sooo charming

i feel like his first crush on u would develop after seeing u in the love talk mv

sends u the cutest pics of him ever

oh my god, such boyfriend material

all u want to do is just cuddle with him which is what happens 99% of the time when ur alone tg

u guys would nap often and the other members would secretly take pics

he remembers the little things abt u

ur just occupying his mind out of his own control

his confession would be bold but he's shaking and quaking inside

when he wants kiss u give kiss

bc trust me it's SO hard to resist this sweetie pie

he's so loving omg

he loves when ur hand mindlessly runs through his hair

give this boy ur attention pls

[tmnt-l0v3rrr]

Punishments

Yan! Rottmnt x Reader Headcanons

Warnings!!

Kidnapping, loss of privacy, being watched, forced touch, unhealthy relationships, abuse, beatings, Obsession, shock collars, and overall yandere and unhealthy topics.

Raphael

Now, he really hates seeing you upset. But, part of him remembers that if you don't learn now you never will, he is an older brother after all.

His punishments aren't near the worst of the bunch. Raph's punishments are more inconvenient than anything, not being allowed to leave his room whatsoever, doing laps around the lair, are the minor ones, they do progress the worst of the action you do.

If you try to run away you lose all and any privacy you had. Zero time alone at all, it's suffocating.

It's time for you to shower? He's right outside the curtain the whole time, he isn't afraid to look in if he hears something out of the ordinary. Bathroom? He's looking away but you can even lose that. Changing? Unless it's undergarments his eyes aren't leaving you.

You aren't allowed to face the door when you two sleep, you're kept facing the wall cradled by Raph, he'll chain you to the bed if he has to.

In summary, privacy loss is one of his most used punishments. He'd never hit you, on purpose….

Leonardo

Now, he isn't super sure how to punish someone humanely… He just isn't sure on how else to get you to listen.

For the little things, like talking back or refusing to do a dumb activity with him, he can be cold or manipulative. He could spit something at you like “Really? All I want to do is love and spend time with you and all you ever do is ignore me or be ungrateful! All I want is to love you, let me love you, dear.”

He will also pinch you for small mistakes, like say you say something he doesn't exactly agree with, Leo will simply pinch, normally on the neck, it works, his pinches hurt like a bitch. Or he'll flick you, those also hurt.

He worries, alot, so if you try to run away?

He throws a fit, screaming, crying the whole ordeal. He will get to you, lock the door on his train car. Yell, so loud your ears ring. Screaming about how mad he is, how you should never do that and how dangerous it is.

In his fit of rage, it will likely get physical.

Maybe grabbing you by the collar… throwing you against the wall, screaming at you, he'll kick your legs and bash until they bleed and are bruised.

He didn't mean to, he is just too worried about you, he can't let you leave. No matter how much it hurts.

Donatello

By far he Is the worst, he knows what you did is wrong and won't feel bad, you did this to yourself. It was your choice.

Now, almost all of his punishments are with a shock collar he made, one like he made for Leo awhile ago, but it has different settings and is remote controlled. (He can also control it with his tech gauntlet) Based on what you do is how bad the shock will be, it is normally at a 2 for small mistakes. A quick zap is it.

Now, if you try to escape? That's where it gets bad. What were you thinking?

Once he finds you, you're in big trouble. The collar will go off, the highest setting. Over and over. You'll be lugged back to where you started being shocked and yelled at.

Like his blue coded brother, he isn't too sure how to be humane. Whatever he does, it's gonna leave a mark.

Mikey

He is somewhere along with Raph, he's more disappointed than anything when you mess up badly. He is rare to punish, he doesn't want to see you in pain or upset. It's just hard for him to see. It hurts.

For small mistakes he'll give you a small scolding and that's it. Nothing to scare you. He doesn't want to scare you anymore then he already has.

If you try to escape, he reminds himself that you're human, you're scared. Your world was torn apart by him. He had to be gentle.

He will take you back to the lair, tied up with his mystic chains, leaving no room to squirm. Along with his older brother, you'll lose privacy and with Mikey, you'll be treated like a helpless child.

You can't do anything alone or without help. It's truly embarrassing. You're not allowed to even brush your own hair. Pretty much everything is taken away from you. It sucks.

[livvymd]

Off Days & On Arms. | ChrisMD x Reader i dont know im just bored so i made this

You’d both had a weird week.

The kind that left you feeling slightly frayed at the edges — a little off, a little quieter than usual, a little like everything was just a bit heavier.

Chris had been filming almost non-stop. Training, editing, traveling, filming again - and you’d barely gotten more than a few late-night FaceTimes and half-awake voice notes from him. You hadn’t said anything. You knew what his job was like. You loved how passionate he got about it. But you missed him. And today, for some reason, that quiet ache weighed more than usual.

So when you opened your door that Friday afternoon expecting the takeaway driver, and instead found Chris - hoodie on, hair slightly messy, a bag in one hand and that familiar boyish grin on his face - you could’ve cried.

“Hi,” he said, and just like that, the weight cracked a little.

You stood there for a second, eyes blinking back the unexpected burn. Chris’s smile faltered slightly as he looked at you.

“Woah - hey,” he said gently, stepping forward, instantly serious. “You okay?”

You nodded too quickly, then shook your head. “I - yeah. Sorry. Just… bit of a crap week.”

Chris didn’t say anything else. He set the bag down, stepped right into your space, and wrapped his arms around you in that way only he could - solid, warm, chin resting lightly on your head, like his whole body was built to make you feel safe.

You sighed against his chest, hands fisting lightly in the back of his hoodie.

“Been thinking about you all week,” he murmured, voice low, sincere. “Missed you.”

You didn’t even care that he probably hadn’t showered yet. Or that his bag was still by the door. You just stayed there, tucked against him like if you let go, the weight would come crashing back.

After a minute, he gave you a little sway. “Still not gonna say hi to me properly?”

You laughed against his hoodie. “Hi, Chris.”

He pulled back just enough to see your face, brushing a thumb under your eye. “Hi, love.”

Your cheeks flushed.

Chris leaned in and kissed your temple gently. “C’mon. I brought snacks and a stupid movie. We’re staying in today.”

You nodded, already feeling a bit more human again.

—

An hour later, you were both on the couch. Chris had somehow gotten you to smile five times already - including a particularly dumb joke involving a sock puppet made out of his own sock. (“He has an accent. Please respect him.”)

But what really got you was the way he kept his arm around you the whole time. Not in a dramatic way. Just… there. Anchoring. Comforting.

At one point, you shifted to curl into his chest again, and he instinctively adjusted to wrap both arms around you. His hand found the back of your head, gently brushing your hair.

“You know you can tell me when you’re having a rough one, yeah?” he said quietly, almost like he was scared you’d shrug it off.

“I didn’t wanna bother you,” you murmured.

Chris tilted his head down to look at you, expression somewhere between soft and annoyed. “You’re never bothering me. Ever. Promise.”

You swallowed hard.

“And for the record,” he added, nudging your nose with his, “I kind of love being the one who gets to cheer you up.”

You rolled your eyes, smiling despite yourself. “That’s a bit sappy for you, isn’t it?”

Chris shrugged. “Not really. I’m kinda mad for you.”

You buried your face in his chest again, groaning dramatically. “You’re disgusting.”

“And you’re stuck with me,” he said cheerfully, kissing the top of your head again.

There was a long, comfortable pause.

Then -

“…Can I carry you to bed like a damsel in distress?”

You snorted. “Chris - ”

“C’mon. I’ll even do the little voice. ‘Oh no, my legs don’t work, Christopher, save me!’”

You broke into laughter, breath catching in your throat.

Chris grinned like a proud idiot and scooped you up bridal-style without warning, making you squeal.

“CHRIS - !”

He cackled. “Told you! You didn’t believe me!”

You gave up resisting and clung to his neck, head falling against his shoulder as your giggles turned into quiet little hums of comfort again.

The second he set you down on the bed, he wrapped you up in a warm duvet burrito and flopped in beside you, pulling you into his chest again.

And this time, when you sank into him, it wasn’t because the world was too heavy. It was because you felt safe. Cared for. Loved.

You whispered it before you could think twice: “I love you.”

Chris paused - then let out a soft breath.

“I love you too,” he whispered back, like it was the easiest thing in the world.

And maybe it was.

Because even when the week felt heavy, Chris never did.

He was your light. Your warmth.

And your safe place to land.

[anthotneystark]

I wanna reach out and grab ya

(edit: now on ao3!)

In the aftermath, as the dust settles, the world shakes.

He expects it, but it still catches him off balance.

He leans against the ambulance, brushes off Nancy’s comment about him needing medical care. Jonathan gives him a look like he wants to call him out on it, but he lets it go. He’s not sure how long he’s been awake, but he knows that if either of them really pressed him, he’d fold like a paper bag.

You know, easily but with a decent amount of noise.

It’s all he can do to keep upright, using the cool metal door to help. The world doesn’t exactly feel steady, but he took a few hits to the head and he’s sure that’s not helping. There’s a ringing in his ears, his sides ache, his face burns, and he’s not altogether sure how long he’s been awake. He’s sure it’s been somewhere along the lines of too long. He’s not looking forward to going home, not when all he’s got waiting there is a cold, empty house. His parents won’t be back for a few more weeks.

Even if there’s a part of him, a big part if he can admit it, that desperately wants his mom to be there, he’s not going to call and ask for her. He’s supposed to be an adult now, he’s supposed to be growing up, he can’t call for her.

Even if it stings a little, watching other people reuniting with their families.

He loses track of time a little, and is only snapped out of it when he’s dragged into a hug. It’s tight, warm, and so gentle for how fierce it is. He reflexively hugs back before he puts it all together, before he recognizes that it’s Claudia Henderson. She’s saying something, but he can’t really hear it because he’s too busy trying to catch up on what exactly is happening. When she pulls back, she either repeats it or it’s a different question.

Robin answers before he can.

“Yeah, Steve’s gonna stay with me tonight.”

“I am?”

“Yeah, dingus, remember?”

“Right, yeah, I’m staying with her tonight.” Except. “How are we getting to your place? I lost my keys,” he adds.

“Oh, don’t worry about it, I’ll take you,” Claudia says. A godsend, really, always. He’s going to need to get new keys entirely given that his have probably been melted by the fire, but he can’t tell her that.

Robin sticks to his side as they go to the car, her hand slides into his and he holds on tight. He doesn’t let go until they’re in her house, after the quiet car ride where he almost dozed off a dozen times. Her parents are at work, both on the night shift at the moment, so it’s just them. Convenient, given that they’re probably going to wake up screaming at some point. She shoves him into the bathroom first and he uses her strawberry shampoo and doesn’t bother to even attempt anything resembling his usual process for cleaning up.

While she takes her turn, he pulls on the clothes she set out. A Hawkins Band tee shirt that’s a little tight and a pair of gym shorts that are probably bigger than his own. He’s almost dozing when she starts messing with his hair, helping to dry it without him even noticing she’d finished her shower. It’s more a nervous movement than anything, but it feels nice.

“We’re going to need to keep some of your clothes here, you know.”

“Why?”

“So you have something to wear, obviously.”

Obviously. Because he’s going to stay with her sometimes. He should have her clothes at his place too then, even if he’s perfectly willing to let her raid his closet. He likes the idea though, the plan to mesh themselves together already. He’s never had anyone in his life who’s made themselves at home in his heart this quickly.

He’s not sure when he drifts off, when she tugs him the rest of the way onto the bed, when she pulls the blanket up, only distantly feels the way she leans into him, the way he reflexively curls into her.

She feels like she’s always been here with him and he can’t figure out how he lived without her.

----------

Robin is perfect.

Not like, literally, and it’s not the same as when he’d say it about Nancy.

That’s the other thing that he figures out with her. He’s really not in love with Nancy. He’d said it, but it really sinks in later. It sinks in the first time they talk about romance, as he tries to give her flirting advice while she laughs at him and asks if he needs a new whiteboard.

They do mingle their closets too, as planned. She still steals his clothes, and he ends up wearing her tee shirts more than his own. She takes him thrifting and shows him all her secrets and he teaches her the art of negotiation in stores.

(She’s in awe when he talks down a sales clerk over a stain that he then magics away in the laundry room at his house.)

He shows her how he learned to cook and she helps him to get creative with new ideas. She demands the first bite every time, and he’s happy to share it.

Her parents welcome him though. Her mom teaches him more about first aid than he learned lifeguarding, and her dad teaches him more about cars in his spare time. He’d known some, but it’s nice, being taught instead of just figuring things out on his own through trial and error. It doesn’t take long for him to get fully intermingled in the Buckley family and it’s the most love he’s ever felt.

Somewhere between the whiteboard and that first night spent sharing a bed, they become SteveAndRobin. Somewhere between her mom finishing her shift and finding them curled up on the couch watching cartoons (because after being exposed to terrifying monsters and soldiers, cartoons are necessary) and her dad coming home to find all three of them wrapped up in it, he finds out he fits perfectly in this space.

Somewhere between the first family dinner and the start of the school year, he unofficially becomes a Buckley.

Sitting there in the hospital waiting room, collapsed into a chair because he’s never felt this exhausted, with Robin at one side and Dustin at the other, with Erica and Lucas whispering with Nancy, with Eddie and Max in surgery, he feels it all building up. All the feelings he’d tried to push down, the fear and panic and pain, bubbling up to the surface. He’s not really looking where his eyes are aimed, not even paying attention until Robin is forcing his heavy, aching limbs up and toward an empty room. She gives him a look as she leaves him on the bed and he’s not even confused about her leaving him there to go back to the waiting room because it’s better if she stays with Dustin anyway.

Except then the door is opening again, with a familiar and welcome sight stepping in.

And then it’s all too much.

Those emotions bubble over with a half-sobbed “Mom” and then arms are around him, holding him together as he splinters into a million pieces.

His mother smells like expensive perfume, floral and chemical and strong. But Betty Buckley smells like antiseptic and cinnamon and it’s the most comforting smell in the world right then.

She doesn’t question the grime or blood staining his clothes, doesn’t try to get him to tell her what happened, just holds him because he can’t break in front of the kids, can’t let them see how much he’s struggling right now. He needs this, is the thing. He hasn’t really broken down yet because he has to be the strong one, he has to be tough, even if it kills him, but she’s safe. She’s safe enough for him to let go.

She lets him get it all out, and still doesn’t ask anything. It doesn’t really matter, not at the moment, so she just brushes his hair off his forehead, uses a damp cloth to wipe away some of the dirt, helps him to pull on scrubs before halting that process to treat his back and arms and sides and neck. He’s gone a little numb, but she moves quick anyway. And then he’s on his back, an IV hooked into his hand, and she’s pressing a kiss to his forehead and telling him to rest.

So he does.

It’s not a conscious decision, more like he was just waiting for someone to tell him he could.

When he wakes, Robin is in the bed next to him. Dustin is on a rolling cot against the wall. He knows without knowing that Max is down the hall, Lucas and Erica are with her, and Nancy is probably bossing around everyone in that way she does that he can’t help respecting. He doesn’t stay awake long.

----------

He’s going stir crazy.

There’s a lot of mixed feelings. On one hand, he’s slept a lot. On the other, the town is a little broken. Robin and Dustin are volunteering, and he’ll join them when he can get out there, but Richard Buckley is under strict orders to keep him from making an escape. The plant has been temporarily shut down, and he’s a glass half-full kind of guy, but it’s really inconvenient for Steve’s desire to be out of the hospital.

He still loves him though, really.

He finally gets a window when Rich steps out for real food.

(It had been hilarious when he and Robin established their dads are both “Richard”, but while Steve’s dad thinks shortening it sounds ridiculous, Robin’s dad loves to give himself new short names at every opportunity. The week he wanted to go by Chard was a fun week.)

He goes for the door, playing nonchalant, and is dismayed to find someone sitting outside.

“He told me you’d try and escape,” the man says, not looking up from his newspaper.

“I’m not escaping,” he lies.

“Humor me.” The man looks over at him then and Steve has to bite back his surprise. “Huh. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say your last name isn’t Buckley.”

“It’s not.”

“Then why have I been hearing for months about Ritchie’s boy?”

“Technically I am that.”

“Not the right one though.”

“No, but that’s sematics.”

“You’re missing an ‘n’ there, son.” The correction is gentle, carrying the tone of someone who’s used to reminding someone else of little details. For some reason, it doesn’t sting like it did when other people corrected him.

“Right, yeah.”

“You had a bit of blood loss, I hear. Maybe you should lay back down again.”

“I can’t. There’s…people are out there and need help. Other people got hurt worse than me. I can’t just lay here and do nothing.”

“You’re not doing nothing, you’re recovering.”

“I’m fine.”

“Doesn’t sound like you are,” he half mumbles, and god, it’s so familiar it aches.

“I don’t know why you’re focused on keeping me in bed. You of all people should be fine with me going out there to help out.” There’s a beat of silence, where Steve thinks he maybe overstepped, getting just a sigh in return.

“Maybe. But I know damn well how important you are to a friend of mine and he asked for a favor. I’m not about to let him down.”

“Mr. Munson –”

“Wayne.”

“…Wayne. You should go back to Eddie. He needs you more.”

“He’s got a visitor already. I’m not hovering.”

“I think you’re hovering a bit here.”

“Well opinions are like assholes, son. Everyone’s got one.” It’s enough to startle a laugh out of him, as Wayne stands up and ushers him back into the room. He didn’t notice while he was standing there as the pain in his muscles, the itching of the scabs, the exhaustion in his bones, creeps back up on him. He protests, but doesn’t really fight as he’s nudged back into the too firm mattress.

“Get some more rest, kid. Long days are coming, take advantage while you can.”

----------

“I just don’t get it!”

“Is he still talking about this?”

Robin’s groan is the only answer he needs. Dustin, back on his usual arguments after saving the world again, is expanding his hobby. Now he’s not just bugging Steve and Robin about their love life (love lives?), he’s dragging others in on the argument too.

“Dusty-buns, you seem to be awful involved in this,” Eddie teases. “Maybe you have a crush on Robin.” She makes a face, throws a marshmallow at him, and Steve snorts as he cackles.

“No! I just don’t know why they won’t date! Eddie, back me up on this,” Dustin says. “They’re perfect for each other! They laugh at the same jokes, share clothes all the time, and don’t even argue, Steve, I’ve seen her wear your jeans before and you’ve worn her sweaters. They share food with each other, spend all their time together, and they share chapstick!”

“Hey, we don’t spend all our time together! Sometimes I wait for her to bike to my house.”

“Not helping, babe.”

“See!” Dustin is probably seconds from losing his marbles, and Steve really should put him out of his misery, but it’s too funny still.

“You’re missing some key information, boy-genius,” Eddie says.

“Like what?”

“Like the fact that they’re never going to date.”

“That’s what doesn’t make sense!”

“Robin, pass me our chapstick,” Steve says, just to make Dustin a little more insane.

“You had it last. Steven, did you lose our chapstick?”

“I definitely gave it back to you.”

“Here you go,” Eddie says, tossing the little tube to Steve with a grin. Dustin’s eyes dart between the three of them like he’s just gotten new information.

“Eddie. Are you…dating Robin?”

It’s Steve’s turn to groan, and he doesn’t need to look to see the face Robin is making.

“Jesus Christ, Henderson, Eddie is dating me!” Now he’s silent. And Steve is going to panic if he stays silent.

“Huh. That makes a lot of sense. You were weirdly jealous.”

“I was what? No I wasn’t!”

“You kind of were,” Robin adds.

“And it makes sense why you wouldn’t date Robin, who is literally perfect for you.”

“How many times do I have to tell you we’re just friends.”

“Yeah, and I could be literally perfect for him, pipsqueak,” Eddie says, grabbing one of Robin’s marshmallows to throw at him.

“You and Robin are still weirdly codependent, it has to be said,” Dustin insists, batting away Eddie’s attempts to ruffle his hair.

“Yeah, well, that’s what happens when you get psychically linked to each other. Get used to it, Henderson.”

“You’re what?!” Eddie and Dustin’s voices overlap, but they’re both drowned out by his and Robin’s laughter.

Their expressions alone are worth the lecture they’re going to get about keeping secrets.