#and since it's under carpet it looks cute too

[nesepte]

Hundred Steps | Jaehyun

Pairing: Jaehyun x fem! reader

Genre: soft jaehyun, fluff (he is cute in this), very mild angst, unsaid words, cozy, vinyl record store, music(al), rich jaehyun, but very humble jaehyun, acts of service love language jaehyun, small town, small shop owner, shop assistant jaehyun, first kiss, first crush, coming of age (?), senior jaehyun. Word Count: 6.5k words

A/n: Happy Jaehyun day, my loves! Here is the full fic. This is probably the sweetest fanfic I have ever written. Hope you find it so too! xD

Taglist: @yewshi @kanekisheart @cigsaftersuh

The air was warm against your cheek. The summer had ended but the heat lingered like a stubborn heart refusing to see reason. In front of you beyond the wrought iron gates, stretched the steps to your new life but you stood frozen in place.

Mind can be so fickle, and this restless heart even more so. You had waited your entire life to leave your hometown and move to the city. You had dreamed of this college every night and here it was, ready to welcome you.

But you turned your gaze behind— the city quiet from this height. Beyond the mountains in the distance, amidst the swirling roads that led to nowhere, your eyes searched for him.

Jaehyun…

It was two weeks after your high school graduation. You were working late in your father’s store for vinyl records. Just a few minutes before closing time you heard the ding of the tiny bell fixed atop the door. He stumbled in, trying to frantically shut his umbrella which was dripping onto the carpeted floor. His brown pants were soaked at the bottom and his white shirt was wrinkled at the joints.

‘That’s alright,’ you said and he looked up. Despite the umbrella, his hair was slightly damp and the tip of his nose was red. ‘We are closing soon,’ you told him. ‘If you want to browse, I suggest you come back tomorrow morning.’

His curious eyes darted from you to the aisle behind him. ‘Where is...?’

‘Are you looking for my dad?’ you asked, trying to keep your tone professional. ‘He fractured his leg. I’ll be taking care of the shop in his absence.’

He finally managed to close his umbrella and left it by the window.

‘Right,’ he said, walking into the glow of the dim lamp hanging from the ceiling above the counter. This close, you noticed that his cheeks were red too but it wasn’t particularly cold out that night.

‘I am sorry to hear that,’ he said, ‘but by any chance did he mention any Beatles record on hold?’

‘The Beatles…’ you mumbled to yourself and ducked behind the counter to check the cabinets. At the very top, wrapped neatly in a clear film was the record and stuck to it was a post-it that had the word paid written in block letters and a name beside it.

‘Jung…’ you whispered, rising back to your feet to find the light, ‘…Jaehyun.’

It took you a moment to place the name in your head, and when you did, you blurted out, ‘It’s you!’ You looked up at him. ‘You are Jung Jaehyun?!’

Your raised voice had startled him but he replied as even as before, pressing his lips together. ‘That’s correct,’ he said.

‘Get out,’ you gritted out.

‘W-What?’

His blank, ignorant eyes angered you even more.

‘Do you have any idea what you put my father through?’ you yelled, your voice echoing through the empty shop. ‘You have been making these insane demands for those godforsaken rare records ever since you stepped foot into our store!’

You could feel your face heating up, your heart pulsating inside your throat. It was a bad look— shouting at a customer, but you could not stop the words from flowing out.

‘Do you know how difficult it is for my father to find them?! It’s because of you that he had an accident and fractured his leg. He was out in the rain to get your stupid record!’

‘I…’ He stared at you, mouth agape and his face drained of colour. He had shrunk under your gaze somehow. ‘I… I had no idea.’

‘Of course, you didn’t!’ you spat back, the thin record shaking between your trembling fingers. ‘All you rich kids care about is your own convenience!’

‘That’s a harsh judgement to make,’ he returned, though not unkindly.

‘Harsh?’ You let out a mirthless laugh. You could not believe your own anger. The bulb over the counter flickered like a dull firework as the record player in the corner switched to the next song.

‘I’ll tell you what’s harsh. All his life, my father has worked tirelessly in this shop to raise me alone and I have done nothing but kept my nose buried in books so I could get into the best university in Seoul.’

You sighed, pressing your palm to your forehead to control the wretched tears that were pricking the corner of your eyes.

‘This was my last summer before college. My last chance to taste freedom and it’s ruined because of you! I am stuck in this shop, working all day. The boxes are heavy, the shelves are high. I don’t know any of the customers and all they really do is ask about my dad. I haven’t even eaten all day but I can’t complain to anyone without looking like an ungrateful brat!’

There was more you wanted to say but you had no breath left in you. Besides, you had embarrassed yourself enough and you couldn’t risk crying in front of him.

‘Just take this and leave.’ You held out the record to him.

His hand reached out immediately but stopped just centimetres from the edge.

‘Take it,’ you repeated, hiding the hitch in your voice. You did not rush his hesitation— there was no other customer in the shop waiting anyway. At last, when he closed his fingers over the record, you let the rest of your anger flow out of you with it.

‘What?’ you asked. He was still standing at the counter, staring at you. Maybe you had been too harsh but your anger didn’t allow any sympathy.

‘I can pay the hospital bill,’ he mumbled, clutching the record tightly in his hands.

‘There is no need,’ you replied. You could not let your pride take another hit after making a complete fool out of yourself in front of a complete stranger. ‘Just… don’t come back here again.’

You regretted saying it the moment the words left your lips.

When you had first learned of Jaehyun through your father, you had imagined a stoic, old man in his 50s, dressed in an unnecessarily expensive suit with a cigar in his hand and a flashy gold chain around his neck. He definitely seemed the kind with his incessant demands for particularly hard-to-find, expensive records. He liked nothing in the shop.

Pretentious bastard, you had called him.

But standing in front of you was a boy, who didn’t look much older than you. He was careful with the record while stowing it away in his bag, holding it delicately by the edges. Despite your outburst, there was a twinkle in his eyes, one that you recognized all too well— your father had it too whenever he got his hands on a new record.

In the wake of your receding anger, you saw clearly how frightened you had made him but he did not protest again. Without another word, he left, stopping only for a moment at the door but he did not speak whatever it was he wanted to say.

However, that was not the end. He came back— sooner than you had expected.

The next morning was busier than usual. You had to receive a new consignment and the truck that came with the boxes did as little as unload them right on the street in front of the store.

The sun was already up and you were sweating through your shirt by the time you had dragged the third carton inside amidst the sea of cursing passersby tripping over them.

Jaehyun found you sitting on the pavement, exhausted and on the verge of tears again. You had your head between your palms and was about to keel over from your own weight when he tapped you on your shoulder.

You looked up at him, squinting at his silhouette against the sun.

‘Didn’t I tell you not to come back here?’ you said, unable to keep the sharpness out of your tone.

He nodded, his expression unchanged. His eyes raked over the mess you had made on the street behind you.

‘What?’ This time you actually felt the tears fall out of your eyes but he didn’t startle. Instead, he sat down beside you.

‘What are you doing—’

He reached into his bag and produced a sandwich from it. It was homemade, you could tell. He peeled the wrapper back and offered it to you.

‘You haven’t eaten, have you?’ he said.

It was your turn to stare at him, wide-eyed. ‘I— don’t understand…’

‘I made you a sandwich.’

He had it so simply as if that was the most natural thing in the world. He had that air about him. You had mistaken it for confidence but Jaehyun was never too proud. He was just… him. You were dumbstruck and humbled at the same time. There were tears in your eyes again but you weren’t crying anymore.

You scoffed instead, amused. There were people still around you, cussing while stumbling through the maze of boxes; the sun was still shining— brighter and hotter; the drains smelled foul from last night’s rain and here was this boy, sitting on a hot pavement beside you with a godforsaken sandwich in his hand because you had told him last night that you hadn’t eaten anything all day. But the most absurd thing of all was when you actually took it from his hand and ate it, right there on the street.

He waited patiently beside you, not saying a word. He only had one sandwich too— you realized it after finishing it. He asked for the wrapper and shoved it in his bag, then got up and offered you his hand.

‘Let me help you,’ he said.

‘With the boxes?’ you asked.

‘In the shop,’ he replied.

His unwavering gaze was steady on you and he inhaled before speaking. ‘I can be your shop assistant. You do not have to pay me,’ he added before you could protest.

‘You want to work here?’

He nodded his head, his eager eyes searching your face for an answer you weren’t quite sure of yourself yet. For a moment, you saw it— behind the façade of his coolness— his guilt. You did not want to be pitied but he seemed more earnest than arrogant.

‘Do you not have a job?’ you asked.

‘I am in college.’

‘No summer internship?’ You could not help the derision that seeped into your words. And he picked up on it too but he did not budge.

‘It’s only my second year.’

‘I can’t pay you,’ you said in a final attempt to dissuade him.

‘I didn’t ask for money,’ he replied in the same breath.

‘Right… the shop opens at 10 and closes at 9 but you have to report an hour early to help me clean it. Will that be alright?’

‘Yes,’ he replied.

You could not tell your father about him. Jaehyun was a stranger and the shop never had any assistants before. But you needed the help, and he was willing even if it was for his own atonement.

‘So, am I hired?’ he asked.

Sighing, you took his hand and he pulled you up to your feet.

‘Get those cartons inside,’ you ordered your new assistant walking inside the store.

His reply came after a pause. ‘Yes, ma’am.’

That is how Jaehyun came to work at your store.

Every morning, he was there waiting in front of the shop before you arrived. His satchel over his shoulder and a homemade sandwich in his hand that he gave to you. He listened to what you said without question. When you told him to vacuum the floor, he did. On the mornings you told him to wipe the windows clean, he did. He steered clear of the records. Perhaps he was afraid he would break them. But he did not help you with dusting nor with arranging the shelves.

He was rich, you had realized that much but, in the shop, he acted no more than an errand boy. From carrying the boxes to special deliveries— he did them all.

During lunchtime, you took turns to eat in the backroom while the other manned the counter. In the evenings, he got you coffee from across the street and offered to tally the register while you rested.

You did not speak much, nor did you learn anything about each other that was not necessary, not until that night—

It was past 9 pm. You had closed the shop. Jaehyun was folding the cartons in the backroom and you were shelving the scattered records back in their places. You were almost done too, save for one record that was supposed to go on the top shelf of the closet in the back. You jumped up from your toes to fling it into the thin gap but not even its edge made it on to the shelf.

It's useless, you sighed to yourself after another failed attempt But just as you turned around to reach for the ladder, you bumped into his chest.

‘I’m sorry,’ he quickly straightened but did not move away. His eyes landed on the record in your hand then up at the open shelf.

‘Let me,’ he said and waited.

When you nodded, his fingers closed over the edge. He pulled it from your grip but kept standing in place. You stood there with him, confused.

‘Uh…’ The tip of his nose turned red. Perhaps the A/C was too cold, you thought at first but it was when he leaned forward that you realized why he was waiting.

Stupid, stupid, stupid, you cursed inward, holding your breath as you shrunk under him against the shelves. The blush on his face creeped up your cheeks, your breath drained out of you as he pressed further.

But Jaehyun braced himself against the edge and swiftly placed the record back onto the shelf, not even letting the hem of his shirt touch you. You had never realized how much taller he was than you, but then again, you had never bothered to look before.

You were looking then, up at him and back at his face when he found his footing again. He had an earphone in his right ear. You could hear the faint music leaking out of it in the sudden silence that had enveloped you both.

‘What are you listening to?’ you asked, surprised at the strangeness of your own voice.

He took the earphone out and held it out in front of you. ‘Want to listen?’

You nodded but he walked down the aisle and out of sight. Several seconds later, you heard the soft crinkling of a plastic film and the distinct sound of a record being pulled out of its case. You waited as he dropped the pin over it and the song reached you.

The Night We Met by Lord Huron.

Unexpectedly, he found you on the floor again as the notes of the first chorus filled the empty shop. He sat beside you, just as naturally as he had done the first time.

When the record player cracked to a halt, he turned to you. He did not speak, not out loud at least, but you could make out his words. So, when the next night came, you put on a new record in the player— With You by Harrison Storm.

The night after that, he replied and the one after that, you replied to his reply. Every night, after you flipped the sign in the window to closed, you both found a song for each other. To his Dandelion you replied with Sofia. For his Laufey, you had Lana Del Rey. For your Hozier, he had Artic Monkeys.

You sat beside each other on the same spot tucked between the shelves, listening to your conversation echo against the walls. It was easy to slip through that crack in time that you had opened and enter that small pocket of dimensionless space, save for the music.

He tapped his foot against the floor when you replied to his Home with Nancy Mulligan and danced on the night you had played Something Just Like This to his question, Mystery of Love.

It was strange how you knew nothing about Jaehyun yet you had never known anybody that intimately before.

But the summer was ending. In a blink of an eye, three months had passed. You had started receiving emails and thick letters from your college about orientation, dorm rooms, classes and credits. And two days ago, you had taken your father to the hospital to get his cast removed. He was going to come back to the store; you were going to leave for college and Jaehyun… you didn’t even know where he was going to go or whether you would see him again.

You fell asleep on the counter that night after closing the shop. It was humid outside and the A/C was on full blast. It was a restless sleep and you must have been shivering because you felt him drape his outer shirt over you. It smelled of him— warm and sweet, and you groaned, suddenly wanting more. You opened your eyes slowly. He was right there, his face in front of you but your gaze did not surprise him.

He reached out and brushed a strand of your hair away from your face. His touch was so light that you thought you were still dreaming, but his warm breath over your lips was evidence enough. His dazed eyes pulled you in and for a brief moment you thought he was going to lean in but when you blinked up from his lips again, he gulped and shook his head.

‘Uh…’ You straightened up too, his shirt falling to the floor behind you. You were sweating beneath your collar, a familiar flush on your face.

‘It’s your turn to pick a song,’ he mumbled. Perhaps he did not know what to say either.

‘R-Right…’

You leafed through the records to find your words. A conversation had ended last night so it was your turn to begin anew. But all you could really think of was Jaehyun… and you, and what if you hadn’t met him like you had. What if you had met him in college. He would have been a senior and you, like every other girl in his class, would have had a crush on him. Then, one day, after gathering all your courage, you would have asked him out. Perhaps he would have said yes, and instead of helping you around the shop, he would have done all those small things for you as your boyfriend.

You found him at your spot on the floor after putting the song on the record player— Those Eyes by New West.

Three minutes and forty seconds. It’s not long, not by any measure, but it was enough for you to tell him what you could not speak that night. You couldn’t recall how long you sat beside him, silently, after the song was over. You didn’t want to leave, not yet.

Then it struck you.

‘Do you want to go on a trip with me?’ you asked, keeping your eagerness at bay.

‘A trip?’

‘It’s just to get a record from the next town. Don’t say it,’ you warned, expecting a taunt about it but it never came. Instead, he smiled his dimpled smile and nodded his head.

‘We’ll have to take the bus,’ you told him, testing his resolve.

‘Alright.’ He nodded his head.

‘We will have to leave at 5 am.’

‘Okay.’

‘You might get bored,’ you told him.

He paused— the dimples on his cheeks deepened. ‘Then let’s get bored together.’

The morning was silent and still blue. You reached the bus stop before Jaehyun, who came a minute after. There was no sleep in his eyes, nor any hint of exhaustion. If anything, he looked as lively as the birds singing in the trees behind you.

‘Did you walk here?’ you asked.

‘It wasn’t that far,’ he replied and you realised you didn’t even know where he lived.

‘What’s that for?’ You pointed at the film camera that was hung around his neck.

‘Oh, this is…’ He looked down at the camera, running a hand through his hair. ‘In case I find something beautiful today.’

You and Jaehyun sat near the end of the bus— him by the aisle and you at the window seat. The ride was short, or so it felt (you fell asleep quickly into it and woke up when the sun was up and your destination was two stops away). If he was bored, he didn’t complain, nor did you feel him stir beside you.

‘Here,’ he said, taking out a wrapped sandwich and a small box of chocolate milk from his bag. ‘Why are you smiling?’

You took the sandwich from his hand and unwrapped it. ‘Why do you bring me a sandwich every day?’ You knew the answer already but you wanted him to say it.

There was a shy smile on his face and he fumbled before speaking. ‘That night…’ he started, ‘you said you hadn’t eaten all day.’

You were grateful that he turned his pointed gaze away from you because you could feel your face heating up. Pressing his lips together, he offered you the carton of milk with both hands.

‘I don’t like chocolate milk,’ you lied and pushed the box towards him. ‘Why don’t you finish this?’

He sighed, looking disappointed but took the box nonetheless.

In the soft light of the morning sun, even the town’s chaos seemed peaceful. Amidst the sudden swarm of running children, Jaehyun pulled you close by the elbow— you were about to bump into a child, who was scampering to find his way around your legs.

‘Do you know where to go?’ he asked.

‘Hm?’ It was hard to focus when he was that close to you.

‘The way to the shop…’ he repeated.

‘Right,’ you said, pulling away to conceal the beat of your thumping heart. ‘Straight down this road and right at the intersection.’

‘Alright then,’ he said, cheerily, ‘lead the way.’

The shops were only just waking up, delivery trucks lining the streets. In the distance, you could hear the ocean, calm that morning except for the occasional thrash of the waves which marked its presence.

‘Where do you live?’ you blurted out without thinking. The question must have caught him off-guard too. He jerked his head in your direction, pausing for a bit before answering.

‘My parents’ home is in our town,’ he said. ‘But I go to college in Seoul.’

‘Oh, which one?’ you asked. ‘My university is also in Seoul.’

‘I know,’ he replied but did not answer your question.

You could see the ocean in the distance now, merging into the sky beyond the intersection. The cars looked as if floating on water as they sped off in either direction.

‘I am sorry,’ you said.

He raised an eyebrow. ‘What for?’

‘For shouting at you that night.’

‘It’s alright.’ He shrugged. ‘If someone was making my father work that much, I would have been angry too.’

That was Jaehyun— easy and uncomplicated. He had managed to put your mind at ease so simply that he made you question your own apology. You nodded, not sure whether grateful or humbled but whatever it was, you knew it was real, the feeling anchoring itself inside your heart.

When you reached the store, he stayed outside. The store owner had already laid the record out for you. It was a rare 12-inch record wrapped in a gatefold sleeve. You replayed your father’s instructions in your head as you picked it up for inspection. You held it up to the sun for signs of scratches or scruffs along the fine grooves. There were none. The label was authentic and so were the markings at the back.

You lowered the record and your gaze fell on Jaehyun, standing outside the store window. He had his hand on his camera and his eyes on you. The sun must have been burning his back— he was standing so still but he did not move.

You jerked your chin up in question but he shook his head and turned away. You had seen that look before on him before, several times in the last three months. It was either in those early hours of morning when he would report to work or later during the slow evenings just before closing time. You had never questioned it. It wasn’t your place. But you had realized as much that it was always when he was staring at you.

‘Did you get it?’ Jaehyun asked once you were outside.

‘Hm,’ you replied, tapping your bag and sighed, ‘We still have the afternoon to kill before the evening bus.’

‘What do you want to do?’

‘There is a lighthouse here,’ you said. ‘Do you want to go see it?’

‘Yes,’ he exclaimed, his eyes lighting up.

You retraced your steps back to the intersection and turned left this time, towards the sea and to the lighthouse that stood down the stony promenade. It was painted in striking red with a set of staircases leading up to the cabin at the top. The sea behind it was a stark blue in contrast, endlessly spilling over the horizon.

You sat on the edge of the walkway, your feet dangling over the breakwater rocks below you. You leaned back on your palms and breathed a sigh. The clouds overhead had overshadowed the sun and the salty wind had turned cold.

‘What are you doing?’ you asked.

Jaehyun had torn a page from a notebook in his backpack and was folding it up into a shape.

‘Making a boat,’ he replied with a child-like giggle.

‘A boat?’ You laughed. ‘For the ocean?’

‘Mhm.’ He had his eyes set on the paper he had laid out beside him. ‘See?’ he chimed up, holding the paper boat up to your face. ‘But the question is whether it will reach the ocean or not.’

The rocks were blocking the water and the aim had to be perfect. You got up with him, taking a step back to witness what you could already tell would be a failed venture. He angled the front of the boat towards the water like a plane and shot it like a dart towards it only for it to land right in front of your feet.

‘Here, let me try,’ you said and picked it up. You held it from the bottom and aimed it further away. It flew a few inches but landed in a small crevice between the boulders below.

‘Jaehyun!’ You shrieked.

Jaehyun had practically flung himself down the pavement to the slippery rocks, his hands still holding onto the edge.

‘Careful…’

‘I am fine,’ he shouted back above the sound of the waves just a few metres away from him.

‘Just throw the boat from there,’ you shouted back as you saw him scrambling back up to you with the boat still in his hand.

‘What’s the fun in that?’

‘You are insane, you know that?’

He smiled and shrugged.

The boat was crumpled beyond hope. With a quiet sigh, Jaehyun tore another page and made a longer, sleeker shape this time only to fail again. You tried different angles, shapes, even places. At one point, Jaehyun even took a running start and hurled the boat forward, but it always fell short of the shoreline, sometimes by mere inches.

By afternoon, a few children returning from school had joined your futile pursuit. While you kept folding new boats, you could hear Jaehyun behind you— scolding them in an attempt to keep them away from the edge.

At last, exhausted, you both plopped down.

‘Should we just give up?’ you asked. The wind wasn’t in your favour and the clouds were shifting again. You saw his shoulders slump further with a sigh as his gaze fell over the pile of the failed paper boats.

‘You look disappointed,’ you remarked.

You wanted to laugh and perhaps you did too because his dejected frown quickly twisted into an offended scowl. Why was he so disappointed over a silly boat. That boy really was mad. And, maybe you were too, because before you even realized it, you were grabbing his hand and pulling him along.

‘Come on, get up,’ you said, picking out the very first boat he had made from the pile. ‘We are going to get your damn boat into the water.’

The paper had dried hard but it was not torn. If it landed correctly, it could still float. You straightened out its crumpled edges, making the perfect cone at the top to balance its weight and took the position at the edge.

‘Careful.’ He tightened his grip on your hand.

‘I’m fine,’ you told him. ‘Just hold on tightly me.’

He braced his foot against yours as you leaned forward with his support. His fingers stiffened and his other hand grasped your elbow tightly but he gave you enough room to safely incline yourself over the rocks.

‘A little more.’

It took him a second to loosen his hold to let you lean further over the edge. You were focused on the angle, your eyes fixed on the pattern of the crashing waves. You counted the seconds in between. One more. You had to wait for just one more.

‘Now,’ you said. Jaehyun let go of your hand. You shot the boat towards the receding tide in the fraction of a second before he yanked you back into his arms.

This time the ocean accepted it, pulling the little devil inwards with its current.

‘It’s in the water,’ he said.

You had expected more of a celebration after the hours you both had spent on it. But perhaps the feel of his pounding heart beneath your palm was evidence enough of his triumph and the smile on his face was your reward.

‘It’s in the water,’ you echoed, amused at your own joy.

The evening bus was right on schedule and you barely made it back to the stop in time. The sun was setting in the distance. It was time to go back. You glanced back, as if hoping you could catch a final glimpse of the boat that you’d set afloat in the ocean together but it was gone.

The bus was packed yet quieter somehow. Jaehyun pulled a juice box from his bag for you and as you sipped on the bitter taste of farewell, your eyes swelled with tears. This really was the end— the last night of the dream that the summer had pulled you into.

Tomorrow, Jaehyun would be gone.

And so, you held on, as tightly as you could. You closed your eyes and let the setting sun lull you into one final sleep. He was still there, and you weren’t going to let tomorrow ruin that.

‘It is your turn to pick the song tonight,’ you turned to him.

His dazed eyes focused on yours then took out the earphones from his bag and gave one of them to you. It took him a while to find the song on his phone.

The Night We Met by Lord Huron.

Why did he choose that song? It was the very first you had both listened to together. Perhaps that was his closure.

It was still early when you reached your town but the bus stop was empty save for the passengers who got down with you. Jaehyun had offered to walk you back to your house but you had refused.

You pointed to the camera around his neck. ‘You didn’t take any pictures today.’

He remained silent, but you could see his mind working behind his eyes. He was perfectly still but he seemed restless somehow and you couldn’t tell why the same impatience was seeping into you as well.

‘Didn’t find anything beautiful to click?’ You tried to break the tension his silence had caused. The street lamp above you flickered for a brief moment before settling down.

‘I did,’ he said at last, his voice not above a whisper but his smile had returned— the shy one. In the same breath, he raised the camera to his eyes and snapped a picture of you.

You are not sure how long you stood there, arrested in place by the flash but you were sure of one thing then— you had to ask him the question that had been poking at you since last night.

‘Will I see you again?’

His relaxed smile irked you. Why was he so calm?

Silently, he unhooked the chain that he wore around his neck. You had seen it before but as he pulled it away, you saw a pendant hanging at the end. It was a small silver record complete with its grooves.

He took your hand and placed it in your palm, closing your fingers over it. He leaned in close, as if whispering a secret to you.

‘On the day you climb a hundred steps, close your eyes, hold out this pendant in front of you and say my name. That’s when you’ll see me again.’

You looked up at him, confused, but he had already let go of your hand.

‘Promise me, you will remember this,’ he said. He was pulling away but his eager eyes were waiting for your answer. ‘Promise me.’

‘I will,’ you managed before he left.

That was two weeks ago and the last time you saw Jaehyun.

Nothing had moved around you— the wrought iron gates still stood; the people still walked by. The air was still warm and the college was still waiting.

Pulling the strap of your bag up your shoulder, you dragged your gaze back to your new life. One step after the other, you walked till you reached the base of a steep climb.

This entrance was reserved for freshmen. For a moment you wondered whether it was some sort of a prank set up by the seniors because in front of you was a seemingly endless set of steps stretching to a top you couldn’t even see from where you stood.

Just then, a boy next to you groaned. ‘Why are there a hundred steps here?’

You heard a breathy laugh next. ‘Funny you say this. It’s exactly a hundred steps here.’

A hundred steps…

You had started climbing the steps alongside them, your ears perked up at their conversation.

‘What do you mean?’ the first one asked.

‘It’s tradition,’ the other one replied, catching up to him. ‘Freshmen are supposed to climb a hundred steps on their first day of college for good luck.’

‘What did you just say?’ You suddenly turned to them, making them jump up.

The two boys exchanged a confused glance before looking back at you.

‘I am sorry,’ you quickly added, seeing their startled expression. ‘The steps…’

The shorter one nodded his head. ‘Yes, it’s a freshmen tradition—’

‘No,’ you cut him off. ‘Are there exactly hundred steps on this staircase?’

‘Y-Yes,’ he stammered.

Jaehyun’s words rushed to the front of your mind— on the day you climb a hundred steps…

It was the strangest thing that he had said that night. You had turned his words over in your head a thousand times, wondering if you had misheard him or missed something between the lines.

But here they were, quite literally, a hundred steps in front of you.

Heart hammering inside your chest, you quickly counted the steps you had already climbed— 24— before turning around and breaking into a run. You could feel the pendant burn inside your pocket as you rushed up the stairs, two at a time.

Your legs burned with the strain it took to push yourself up the incline, each step more demanding than the last.

This is ridiculous, you thought. This isn’t a fairytale. How would he even know about this.

But the rising questions melted away in the face of what was pulling you up.

Your breaths turned into short gasps, making your pounding heart thud against your ears, drowning out everything else. Your lungs ached for air, but you did not stop. If he was really waiting at the top, you didn’t want him to wait for too long.

One after the other, you kept going, slower when you couldn’t anymore, but not stopping until the top finally came into view.

Still panting, you reached for the pendant in your pocket, your other hand pressing against the stitch in your stomach. The silver record dangled from the chain as you held it out in front of you, the tiny grooves reflecting the sunlight.

You closed your eyes, and whispered his name like a prayer— it felt like magic anyway.

‘Jaehyun.’

The leaves above you rustled in the soft wind that had caught you. The birds were chirping too. There was a dull chatter somewhere in the distance and the soft curses of the students asking you to move. But you could not bring yourself to open your eyes yet.

God, this is so stupid. You were sure you looked deranged to others. The possibility crossed your mind too. What if he had meant his words to be something else. What if you had not paid close attention to what he had said. Ugh. Why couldn’t he have just said what he wanted to?!

But then you heard it— him.

‘What took you so long?’

You smiled first, then opened your eyes. He was standing right before you, his dimples etched on his cheeks. His hand closed over yours, pulling the pendant to himself, and you with it.

‘I am sorry, I am late,’ you said.

There he was, your senior in college, the dream within your grasp. Just like every other girl in his class must have, you had a crush on him too.

‘Do you…’ The words caught in your throat. The fantasy was easier than reality. But you had not just climbed a hundred steps to shy away.

‘What is it?’

Gathering all the courage in your heart, you asked, ‘Do you want to get a cup of coffee?’

He chuckled, his eyes twinkling like they did the first time you had seen him. His smile grew wider barely leaving space for the dimples on his cheeks. He wrapped his arm around your waist, hesitantly at first then bolder when you followed his lead. The tip of his nose had turned red but his bashful gaze remained fixed on you. He held your face in his hands and pressed his lips over yours ever so sweetly like he had been waiting to do so for an eternity.

‘I would love to,’ he whispered and kissed you again.

The End.

[sugar-and-spite]

made a lil house in minecraft

[dreamauri]

♪ — 𝗔𝗡𝗖𝗛𝗢𝗥𝗘𝗗 𝗧𝗢 𝗬𝗢𝗨 max verstappen x fem! girlfriend! reader ( fluff ) fic summary . . . Max Verstappen has a habit of never letting go—literally. Whether it’s galas, lazy days on yachts, or even a quick grocery run, his hand is always in yours ( 1k words )

( main master list | more of max verstappen ) ( requests )

Max Verstappen had always been confident, composed, and annoyingly good at everything he did. But when it came to you? Oh, Max had one tiny quirk that you couldn’t help but notice. He never—ever—let go of your hand.

At first, it was sweet. Cute even. A little handhold in the paddock, fingers brushing together as you walked to the grid. But now? It was everywhere. Grocery shopping? Hand in hand. Movie nights? His fingers laced with yours under the blanket. Brushing your teeth? He'd stand there, holding your hand, toothpaste dribbling down your chin because you were laughing too hard.

Even now, as you sat on the couch, trying to scroll through your phone, Max sat beside you, one hand holding yours tightly while his other absentmindedly flicked through TV channels.

“Max,” you teased, wiggling your fingers in his grip, “you know I’m not going to disappear, right?���

He didn’t even glance up. “I know. But why risk it?”

You rolled your eyes but smiled despite yourself. It wasn’t that you minded—it was just amusing how attached he’d become.

“Do you want me to get you anything from the kitchen?” you asked, attempting to pull your hand free.

“Nope.” His grip tightened, his thumb brushing over your knuckles as if to say nice try.

“Okay, but I can’t exactly carry snacks and drinks with one hand.”

“I’ll come with you.”

“Max—”

He was already up, your hand still in his as he followed you into the kitchen. You made a point of bumping him with the fridge door as you opened it, but his grin was nothing short of smug.

★ ☆ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Bedtime was another ordeal entirely. Max seemed to think the best way to sleep was to intertwine himself with you like a human pretzel. Tonight was no different.

As you shifted to get comfortable, Max’s hand found yours under the covers. His arm draped lazily over your waist, pulling you closer.

“Max, I’m overheating,” you groaned, trying to wiggle away.

He only hummed in response, his lips brushing your temple. “You’re fine.”

“No, really, I might combust—”

“Shh, I’m comfy.”

You couldn’t help but laugh softly, giving up the fight. “You’re impossible.”

“You love it.”

You rolled your eyes but squeezed his hand in return. “Maybe.”

The next morning, you woke to find Max already up, scrolling through his phone with your hand still in his.

“How do you do that?” you muttered groggily.

“Do what?”

“Never let go, even in your sleep.”

He chuckled, leaning down to press a kiss to your knuckles. “Practice.”

You couldn’t even be annoyed—it was too cute. “You’re lucky you’re adorable.”

“Adorable?” he echoed with mock offense. “I’m the reigning world champion, liefje. I’m not adorable.”

“Sure, sure,” you teased, tugging on his hand. “But I know the truth.”

And as he grinned down at you, still holding your hand like it was the most natural thing in the world, you decided you wouldn’t have it any other way.

★ ☆ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

The gala was every bit as glamorous as you’d imagined—long, flowing dresses, sharp tuxedos, and enough champagne to fill a swimming pool. Max, as usual, looked effortlessly handsome in his tailored suit, but his accessory of choice wasn’t the Rolex on his wrist. No, it was you. Specifically, your hand.

He had barely let go of you since you stepped onto the red carpet. Even when you stopped to take photos, Max’s fingers stayed firmly entwined with yours, his thumb brushing against your knuckles as if reassuring himself that you were still there.

“Max,” you whispered as you reached your table, smiling politely at the other guests. “You can let go now.”

He raised an eyebrow, the corner of his mouth lifting into a smirk. “Why? You planning to run away?”

“No, but I might need both hands to eat,” you teased, holding up your clutch in your free hand for emphasis.

He sighed dramatically but let go—only to place his hand on your thigh the second you both sat down. You shot him a look, and he grinned unapologetically.

Throughout the night, Max found creative ways to keep touching you. Whether it was holding your hand during conversations, tucking your arm into his while you walked around, or resting his palm on the small of your back when you stepped away for a drink—he was relentless.

By the time dessert was served, you leaned over to him, your voice low. “You know, you’re setting a high bar for clingy boyfriends everywhere.”

“Good,” he replied, kissing your temple. “They should all know how it’s done.”

★ ☆ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

You weren’t sure who had come up with the brilliant idea to spend the day on a yacht, but it turned out to be the perfect way to beat the heat. The Mediterranean sun was shining, the water was crystal clear, and your group of friends was already laughing and diving into the waves.

Max, of course, had other priorities.

“Come on,” you called over your shoulder as you made your way to the edge of the boat, a grin on your face. “The water’s amazing!”

“Wait,” Max said, reaching for your hand.

“Max,” you laughed, spinning around to face him. “I’m not going to drown. You don’t have to hold my hand for this.”

He looked at you, completely serious. “What if you slip? Or hit your head? Or—”

“Max,” you interrupted, stepping closer. “I’ll be fine. Besides, you’re coming in right after me, right?”

“Obviously.”

“Then let go so I can jump!”

Reluctantly, he released your hand, but not without muttering, “Two seconds. I’ll be right behind you.”

True to his word, Max was in the water less than five seconds after you hit it, his strong arms wrapping around you the moment he surfaced.

“See?” you teased, water dripping down your face as you pushed his wet hair back. “I’m fine.”

“Better safe than sorry,” he said, holding you close.

When you both climbed back onto the yacht, Max dried off quickly before grabbing your hand again, guiding you to a sun lounger. You didn’t even bother fighting him anymore.

“You know,” your friend quipped, grinning at the sight of Max’s fingers intertwined with yours, “it’s like he thinks you’re going to float away if he doesn’t hold on.”

Max looked up, completely unbothered. “You’re not wrong.”

You laughed, leaning into him as he kissed your temple again. “Well, at least I’ll never get lost.”

[klausysworld]

Reader( human) is a sweet girl who works for lucien. (She gives him blood and all that) so when klaus is at Luciens apartment he meets reader and she is kinda scared of him but still gives him blood and a drink and all that stuff since lucien told her too. Klaus notices that she doesn't wanna be there so he tries getting closer to her. When he and his family fought lucien he goes back to the apartment and convinces her to come with him. Please with fluffy smut. How they have sex or why or what happens with them when she goes with him is completely up to you.

Triggering content, including physical and sexual abuse but ultimately a happy ending!!

My Darling.

Klaus knew something was off with Lucien.

The timing of his arrival alone was suspicious and now a prophecy? Everything was...strange and calculated but Klaus knew how to play.

When he stepped foot into his old friend's apartment, he could feel her presence. He knew someone else was there but he certainly wasn't expecting Lucien to start clicking his fingers and a girl to literally come running.

Lucien had a smug grin on his face when she immediately kneeled in front of him and held out her wrists on his lap. Klaus felt his jaw clench at the thick smell of fear rolling off her.

"This is Klaus, Klaus meet Y/N. She's my...what do we call you, love? Hm?" Lucien was taunting her and her humiliation was obvious.

"A pet, sir." She whispered and flinched when his hand roughly patted her head.

"That's right. Now come here and sit on my dear friend's lap. Give him a drink." He ordered and she quickly nodded.

Klaus felt his eyes go wide when she immediately straddled his lap, sitting right on top of his crotch and holding out her arm. Lucien laughed and shook his head.

"Your neck." He corrected and Klaus felt her tense before moving her hair to the side and shifting to press the side of her throat to his mouth.

Now Klaus could have refused but the way Lucien was staring at him, waiting him to drink, daring him. It made him comply and sink his teeth in. Her blood was a beautiful consistency and an addictive taste as he swallowed down a series of mouth falls. After a moment he found that he had closed his eyes at some point and so reopened them when pulling away. A surprised grunt left him when he felt her hips move, he looked down to see her dry humping his growing erection and his grip on her hips went tight, trying to stop her.

"She's excellent, go on love give him a blow job." He commanded and she started to undo his belt but Klaus grabbed her hands.

"That's...not necessary." He cleared his throat and Lucien raised a brow before shooting her a glare.

"You heard him, get off." He told her and she quickly got off Klaus and onto Lucien, hugging his midsection tight.

"I'm sorry." She whimpered, tone pleading. Lucien rolled his eyes and turned back to Klaus, ignoring the petrified girl on his lap.

They got back to the prophecy, though Klaus's attention kept drifting back to Y/N. Poor little thing looked adorable and yet he couldn't think about how cute she was when she was literally shaking and apologising religiously under her breath.

"Is she compelled?" He asked, curious and completely blanking everything Lucien had just said.

"No." Lucien stated simply and sighed, getting annoyed with her clinginess. "She isn't compelled, she just knows her worth." He spat, shoving her back to the floor and having her kneel back down on the carpet, being a quiet as possible to he wouldn't get angry.

Klaus swallowed thickly. Silently he nodded so that he wouldn't say anything out of line that would cause things to escalate. Instead he got things back on track and pulled the attention away from her.

When he left, he felt a little concerned for what would happen to her once she was alone with Lucien.

The hybrid didn't have the opportunity to go over often, only occasionally but on those occasions he would watch her. He fed from her each time but never let it go as far as Lucien tried to push her.

On the dreaded day that Klaus was held hostage on Lucien's apartment, Y/N was beyond skittish. It was clear that Aurora didn't like her. She despised the human even more when she noticed Klaus's gaze linger a second too long when the girl had come scrambling in with the vervain Aurora had demanded.

The second Klaus looked back at Aurora, he knew he'd made a mistake. the redhead and Y/N by the hair, dragging her to Klaus and holding her up, too high for her toes to touch the ground. Cries bled from her mouth but Klaus kept silent and just glared, knowing that should he speak, it would only make it worse.

Klaus had been quick to get out of those chains and out of that home, too quick to save the poor girl who lay bloody and bruised on the tiles of the kitchen floor.

However he did not forget about her.

As soon as Lucien was dead and the others were rid of, he went back for her. It took a couple witches to get inside but once he did, he tried calling out for her.

"Y/N?" he yelled but in a gentle sort of tone so it didn't scare her. "It's Klaus- are you...oh" His words died down when he opened a door.

She was in the bathtub, no water but she was lead in a puddle of her own blood. Her neck had a fat chunk missing and she was bleeding rapidly, her skin had dulled and her heart was slow.

Urgently, Klaus moved to get her up and out.

"I'm sorry." She uttered when she felt someone pick her up.

Klaus frowned to himself and laid her down on the couch. He pushed her hair aside, grimacing a little when it pulled away from the dry blood attached to her skin.

"I need you to drink from my wrist." He told her and she wasn't in any position to disagree so when the metallic taste pressed to her lips, she took it down with ease. "Good girl." Klaus whispered, nodding to himself and her as he made sure that her wounds healed.

Once she stopped drinking he cupped her sweet face.

"How long have you been in there?" He asked and she sniffled.

"Lucien...he was angry and I- I didn't do good." She whimpered and he frowned.

"He bit you? Love, its been three days since I killed him-" He told her but noticed her flinch and he tilted his head. "Love-" He tried but she let out a frightened cry. Klaus took a pause and realisation settled over him. Lucien had called her 'love'.

"It's alright." He whispered, carefully shifting to pick her up. "I'm going to bring you to my home, get you something you like to wear...something to eat? I bet the bastard didn't even feed you." He mumbled, frowning and stroking her hair. Y/N didn't utter a word, just let him take her away.

Y/N was still a little afraid but no where near as afraid as she was of Lucien so she ignored the pit in her stomach. Klaus took her home and sat her down by the fireplace. "There you go...sweetheart." He whispered, hesitating on the nickname and watching for a negative response. She shifted uncomfortably and he made a mental note. Klaus had forgotten that Lucien had tried so hard to be just like him, same accent, same vocabulary, same style, same tactics. It pissed him off to no end but now it was actually hurting someone.

Klaus sighed to himself and scratched the back of his neck. "I'll be back." He murmured, flashing off before returning with a chocolate twist from the nearby bakery. "I bet you like chocolate don't you, darling?" He offered, watching with a smile when she nodded and slowly accepted the food.

Later she took a shower and picked some clothes from Hayley and Rebekah's wardrobes. Both girls were happy to help her, girls had to stick together and it was obvious that nobody had been there for her for far too long.

They both knew she had been through it. They hadn't been told specifics but it was clear from her demeanour, she was scared, she felt indebted. Both girls had to try and show her that she wasn't a pet and there weren't expectations however the nest day, their clothes had been washed, dried and folded for them. Klaus had woken to a hand on his pants, his eyes had flown open to see her sad eyes on his waistband whilst her soft little hands pulled it down.

"Y/N!" He gasped and she flinched, almost falling off the bed but he managed to catch her. "Bloody hell" He mumbled, gently putting her down and loosening grip so he couldn't hurt her. "What were you doing, darling?" He asked and she looked at him confused.

"Waking you up..." She answered like it was expected behaviour. "You own me now-"

"No..." He breathed, his frown deepening when she said those words. "Darling, you're not a pet. You're a girl, you do what you want to do not what I want. You say no to me okay? You can always tell me and anyone here if you do or don't like something. You don't like beans? You tell me 'Klaus I don't like them' okay?" He told her, his voice both firm but calm to get his message across.

Y/n just stared at him. She felt like it was a trick or a test. Lucien had done it once, told her she should go outside to get some air only to chain her to the corner of the room and yell at her for trying to leave him.

Klaus could see she wasn't buying it, he wasn't sure what to do.

"Are you..." He stopped with a sigh, "Lets just move one day at a time." He whispered, "You'll feel better soon and you'll see that you don't ever have to do things...especially that."

Y/N put her hands into her lap and pinched her skin to hurt herself. She felt like she had disappointed him, even if he was adamant that she hadn't.

Things were hard for the first couple weeks. Klaus and the rest of the Mikaelson's had to try persuade her she wasn't in any way obligated to them and that she was allowed to do as she pleased.

Slowly she became comfortable in their home, around each of them and spoke a little more. However she still wouldn't go outside unless Klaus was there, he needed to hold her hand and make sure nobody would take her away.

Klaus had worked hard to have her feel safe. Even with Lucien dead, nightmares haunted her that he would take her back and punish her for leaving him. Too many nights had been filled with her screaming for help until Klaus would take her to his room and convince her that he would keep those dreams away. To be fair to him, he made sure to keep her mind at peace each night. Nothing scary could ever catch her again.

But then Klaus found himself watching a scene in her head, it was him and her curled up on the couch, just snuggling and watching TV like a normal couple. Klaus watched with interest when their dream versions kissed passionately.

The next morning he woke with her laid out across him. Fast asleep and looking adorable as usual. He smiled to himself and rubbed her back gently. After a while she woke up and he kept her all fuzzy and warm until she wanted to get out of bed.

That was how most mornings were, then the day would all depend on enemies and alliances. Sometimes Y/N was left all alone in the mansion, allowing her to read and discover every hidden room within. As many days as possible, someone would be home with her and they'd do something fun. Rebekah had been showing Y/N how to sew, Elijah was offering to teach her literature and history and Hayley would have them both dressed up playing with Hope. None of them knew how long she had been victim to Lucien but they dreaded that it had been far too long. Her education was minimal, all she seemed to know how to do was wash their clothes and clean up after them like a little maid.

Each time they spoke to her and told her she didn't need to do that, she would get upset and feel useless. All she had ever been wanted for was to serve Lucien and now she didn't have a purpose. She was beyond happy that she wasn't subjected to his treatment but she wasn't sure what she was ever supposed to do now that she was given everything. Luxuries weren't something she had ever heavily desired, a simple life is what she wanted but she was too traumatised of the outside world to live in it anymore.

Klaus had taken her to a experience a jazz festival to try show her the beauty in the world but the amount of people, the smell of alcohol, the noise. Everything attacked her at once and she ended up in tears, Klaus shielding her in an empty street that he had sped them too. He felt awful, he tried to calm her down and to soothe her but it wasn't working. Only once they got home and he was all she could feel, hear and smell was she able to calm down.

Klaus held her for hours, he was prepared to never let her go with how tightly she clung to him.

Helping her gain confidence was the most difficult thing after everything. Going from worthless to priceless was very literally life changing. Klaus feared that she may never understand how perfect she was, how much she deserved.

The Mikaelson's had all had their issues with identity and self value in the past so they all tried to help her understand hers. Rebekah especially was able to show Y/N just how beautiful she really was.

Once she became more comfortable with herself as well as others, everything was more natural. Her healing process was long but worth it.

______________________________________________________________

Klaus smiled as he looked out the window, Y/N was running around the garden with Hope, laughing and squealing. They played for hours in the sunshine until dinner time rolled around and Hayley and Elijah had dinner set out for everyone.

Klaus had Hope sat in his lap whilst holding onto Y/N's thigh subconsciously under the table. Once everyone finished eating, Hope went up for her bath and Klaus's attention was on Y/N.

He wrapped his arm round her waist and pulled her to him, kissing the top of her head with a soft hum. He tried to pull her away from the sink but she giggled and whined.

"Hayley and Elijah cooked. It's our turn to clean." She reminded and he smiled, nuzzling her hair.

"Why don't Rebekah and Marcel ever clean hm?" He pressed and she shrugged whilst grabbing a dirty dish which he immediately took away from her. "I don't want you to ever have to clean." He whispered, hugging her tight.

"I don't mind cleaning when it's on rotation. This way it's all fair, now helppp. We cook tomorrow." She reminded and he rolled his eyes playfully.

"Mmm, I love when you refer to us like we're one. I'll do the dishes darling. You can get ready for bed?"

"You don't need to do that-"

"I want to darling, now off you go." He smiled and ruffled her hair with a chuckle when her hands tried to flatten it back down. She begrudgingly went upstairs and let him finish washing up before he returned and got changed before snuggling up around her.

She curled right into him savouring his warmth and breathing his scent. "I'm really glad I met you." She murmured to him and he smiled.

"I'm beyond glad to have met you too my darling." He purred, kissing her cheek. She blushed against his lips and rubbed her face into him much like a needy cat. "You're so perfect." He whispered, smelling her hair.

"I love you, Klaus." She uttered her eyes shining with vulnerability and slight fear but he quickly diminished it.

"I love you much more Y/N." He internally promised to never let her hurt, long, need again. Klaus smiled when he saw her go red in the face, he peppered her face in little kisses.

Y/N's breath got caught in her throat when he pecked her lips, it was a short but sweet kiss. He pulled back to gauge her reaction, check he hadn't overstepped but it was clear he hadn't. Her pupils were blown and her body was relaxed. She trusted him and she wanted him.

Klaus smiled, a genuine smile before stroking her hair down flat. His head lowered again to kiss her lips once more, lingering a couple seconds extra. He then turned back around and dipped his hands in the soapy water and got to the dishes.

Leaving a bashful Y/N to head on upstairs to the room they had been sharing.

When he got back up there, she was already in bed. Pyjamas fresh and already warmed to her skin as she peeked up at him from the duvet.

His lips upturned instantly, "You look beautiful, my darling." He told her, heading over to kiss her cheek sweetly before grabbing some plaid pants and a t-shirt and disappearing into the bathroom.

Since having Y/N stay with him, Klaus had been wearing full pyjama sets to keep her comfortable. Honestly, he didn't mind. It was comfortable and kept him feeling fresh and ensured him that Y/N felt safe in his bed.

He could certainly tell the difference between the first time she stayed with him and this time. Now when he came back into the room she was all smiles and giggles, waiting for him and wanting him there.

Klaus climbed into bed, pulling the covers round him and sliding her to his side. His lips attacked the side of her pretty face before he reached over and switched on the soft little night light that she needed for comfort and then turned off the bigger lamp so only a gentle glow illuminated the room slightly.

Y/N snuggled up to his body, he could still feel her smooth skin through their clothes. He loved how perfect she was, it was incredible that she could still be so perfect after everything she'd been through. He would aways love her, everything about her.

That was all he could think about as he watched her little fingers toy with his. Klaus always touched her so gentle, so careful. That night was no different and Y/N knew that; she trusted him.

He wasn't Lucien.

"You're not him." She uttered, voice so quiet and faint against his ear when he lay between her legs. His heart ache for her.

"I'm not him." He assured, his hand gently petting her head as his hips rocked lovingly against hers. "I'll never be him." He whispered; promised.

Y/N's walls squeezed him so good, showed him she felt good too. Klaus made sure to glance down at her delicate features, checking for those signs of pleasure. His hips would buck up, filling her deeply so she would cry his name blissfully.

"That feels nice, doesn't it darling?" He whispered against her ear with a little kiss to the shell. Her head nodded, eyes glassy as she looked up at his. Klaus could internally feel her soul reaching for his, needing him. "Can you tell me it feels nice, sweet Y/N?" He asked her gently and she gasped for the air to talk.

"Feels really nice, Klaus, promise!" She whined, body tightening again making him nuzzle to the crook of her neck. His nostrils flared, breathing in her scent like a drug as he pushed his hips forward to bury deep inside her when he came; filling her gently like she ought be treated. Her cry of pleasure brought him such joy and a sense of peace that he was able to bring her to her peak, make her content like she had always needed. Feeling her soft body contacting lightly around him as she whimpered and trembled beneath him made his heart swell. His fingers stroked her hair slowly, soothing her body back down from its high.

"You know that I love you. I knew I'd love you, care for you like this since the first time I held you in my arms." He whispered to her, sincerity shining.

Y/N smiled up at him, glowing skin and messy hair but still as beautiful as ever.

By morning they were dressed again, legs tangled and bodies snuggled.

Mornings soon became Klaus's favourite time of the day, having her warmth against his. The knowing she's safe and secure and at peace. Often he'd let her curl up with the covers over them whilst his head buried between her thighs and she bit down on the quilt to hide her sounds from the sun. Then he'd take them back downstairs for something to eat before the day truly began.

It was a long road to get to the safe place they were in now but nothing had been more worth it.

[trashogram]

He Chose You (Pt.1)

Lucifer/Reader

Hazbin Hotel AU where Lilith never existed, Lucifer has been lonely for over a millennia and Charlie will be born one way or another. Rated E for explicit sexual content of the raunchiest variety in later chapters and also weird old people.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 13.5 | Part 14 | End

There was a knock at your door. It sounded like someone rapping their knuckles against the wood whimsically, as if following the beat of a song you couldn’t hear.

The methodical folding of your clothes into garage sale-quality drawers came to a halt. You looked over your shoulder, shifting on your feet hesitantly.

It had been little over a week since you moved into the grand old Donner apartment. Apart from a quick tow-in of shoddy furniture from your hired movers, no one had come calling. 

You definitely weren’t expecting anyone either, not in a brand new city you’d spontaneously decided to live in.

After another moment of uncertainty, you pivoted to the door and inched it open to a slit you could peek through. “Hello?”

Your brow furrowed as you stared at the empty space ahead of you. Pulling the door open fully, you peered down one end of the hallway to the other. 

Nothing but cracked and crumbling crown moldings on wainscoting, a matted-looking saxony carpet, the same musty, stale air…

‘Quack’

You nearly jumped out of your skin, head snapping down to see a real, live duck standing just outside your doorframe. 

“Oh!”

     You immediately squatted down to marvel at the animal. It gazed back up at you with beady red eyes and a curious gait. 

“Hey little guy,” You cooed, smiling despite the incongruous image of a waterfowl in your building.

You raised a hand and reached out slowly, instinctive desire to pet the cute little creature warring with a minuscule yet no less embarrassing fear. 

Were ducks typically friendly? You knew so little, ornithology not being your thing. 

“Will you let me pet you?” Your fingers hovered over the surprisingly patient animal before it decided to nudge itself under your palm.

The duck shivered with delight at your touch, all-white feathers ruffling excitedly and tail wagging, looking akin to a very happy dog. 

“Oh my god.” You gasped, heart melting. “You’re so cute!”

Soft feathers brushed against your bent knees as the duck drew close enough to rub its body against you. It had gone from doggish to cat-like effortlessly, and you couldn’t help giggling over how silly it looked.

“Where did you come from?” You asked after a bit of cuddling, glancing from side to side once again. The hallway remained empty, no one running to fetch what you assumed was a beloved pet. 

     ‘That’s… weird.’ You thought. ‘So, who knocked on my door?’ 

It was tempting to ask the bird that was currently bouncing on its webbed feet. You couldn’t help but snort with laughter before positioning yourself so that you were sitting. In an instant, the duck made to climb into your lap, allowing you to carefully lift it onto your legs when it couldn’t reach. 

“You’re so silly!” Grinning, you continued to stroke its head. “Your owner is probably worried sick about their silly little guy.” 

‘Quack’ 

The duck burrowed its head against your stomach as it settled on your lap, and you sighed. “I’d love to keep you, but I don’t know how to take care of you, sweetie.” 

Little red eyes bore into you from below, seemingly wide and beseeching. It was too precious, and too perfect (to the point where you idly wondered if someone was somehow scouting a way to scam you via adorable duck shenanigans).

Aside from the guttural, sad ‘wek’ you got in reply, a slow creak of hinges drew your attention back up. The door across from you had visibly opened the barest amount. You squinted, just able to make out frizzy red hair and a red-rimmed, down-turned mouth in the dim lighting. 

“Oh hey, hi!” You stopped yourself from standing, instead of bracing the bundle in your lap close. “Is this your duck?”

A tingle went up your spine as the door opened fully and an old woman appeared. She was dressed in green capri pants and a ruffled tan blouse, hair red as an open flame and barely kept in-check by a cheetah-print scarf. The makeup she wore was caked on, harsh red lipstick smeared around her thin lips and black kohl-rimmed eyes popping out of her wrinkled face. 

The sour, almost suspicious look on her face softened but did not completely go away, even when she smiled.

“Oh Lou!” She cried, making you jump. “You didn’t get very far, did you? I almost didn’t notice you were gone, you little scoundrel!”

“Well, thank goodness for that I guess. He’s got those little legs, ya see,” She nodded down at your lap, “but he’s so darn fast anyway, might as well be a midget racehorse!”

You chuckled and smiled politely. That persistent tingling at your back had you holding back a shiver, and the skin on your arms prickled and rose. 

“I didn’t know we could have pet ducks in this building.” Your words belied a confidence, as well as interest in having a conversation with this woman, that you didn’t truly have. 

As a matter of fact, despite the inner scolding you gave yourself for being judgmental, you were quite off-put in the woman’s presence. The want to return to your apartment and shut the door in her overly-painted face was rising like a lump in your throat. 

“He seems to really like you, that’s so sweet. He’s not usually this friendly with anyone but my hubby. That’s Mr. Farrow, honey, have you met him?” The woman - presumably Mrs, Farrow, leaned down just a few feet away. 

She still looked to be examining you and your avian companion, the bland pleasantness oozing yet unable to suffocate the shrewd glint in her dark eyes. 

“Oh, uh, no. I’m afraid I haven’t -” You started. 

“Oh, that’s alright! That’s fine! Matter of fact, he’d get an earful from me if he was talkin’ to a pretty thing like you without me knowin’!” Mrs. Farrow laughed. “Just kiddin’, honey. You’re new to the building though, aren’t you? Well, welcome! It’s nice to see a new face here! ‘Specially a young one!” 

“Thank —”

“Maybe that’s why Lou is so taken with you! Animals just thrive off energy and sunshine and all that. Not slow, almost dead things. I’m sure you’re birds of a feather that way.” 

Again, your soft laughter is polite, teetering on nervousness. 

You took a moment to rise, humming apologetically when Lou squawked as he was jostled. On your feet, you instinctively stepped back. One foot over the threshold and solid in your apartment. 

“He is really sweet.” You said, holding the animal out as carefully as you could. “I’m glad he didn’t get lost.”

Mrs. Farrow stared, arms falling to her sides. She didn’t attempt to take the bird from you for a long, long moment. 

Confusion and disbelief clouded your mind as you stood, waiting, watching as Mrs. Farrow’s throat bobbed when she swallowed forcefully. 

What? Was she afraid of the duck?

In a split-second, she returned to smiling animatedly and waved a geriatric hand in the air so flippantly that the uncomfortable moment ceased to exist. 

“Oh honey, you can put him down if you want. He’ll come back over now that our door’s open.” Mrs. Farrow laughed. “Lou’s not my biggest fan. He’s such a prideful thing, you know. Just like Mr. Farrow - it’s probably why they get along so well!”

You blinked, then slowly bent at the waist to let Lou down. The duck made another disdainful quack, red eyes looking at you morosely. 

It’s little legs eventually rowed through the air in an effort to gain footing. You lightly placed him over the carpet and let go, allowing Lou to jump down. 

The duck began waddling away, though it appeared to hang its head as it did so. Occasionally, he turned to look at you, somber and sullen as if bidding farewell before walking on death row. 

“Aww, poor little thing.” Mrs. Farrow drawled. At your side. “Looks like my Lou is sweet on you! Poor guy, I can see why! Again, a lovely young thing like you is probably a gift from above in this stuffy old place.” 

“Say, how long have you been here?” 

You turned to the old woman. “About a week, I’m still getting settled.”

Mrs. Farrow nodded vigorously, eyes bright but mouth pursed. “A week, a week?! A week and no one’s introduced themselves to you?”

“Holy Toledo, you must think we’re all a bunch a’ snobs in here! That’s no good. Oh! Why don’t you come over for dinner sometime and me and my mister can show you some proper hospitality?” 

“Oh, that's really nice of you —” 

“Sure! Sure! It’ll be great, how ‘bout tomorrow night? It’d give us some time to get prepared, have things cleaned and settled. Do you like steak? That’d be perfect, actually. I’ve got some in the freezer just waitin’ to be defrosted.”

“Um, well — That’s a little short notice…”

“I’m sure Mr. Farrow won’t mind. He’ll be glad for the company, and if he isn’t, well he will be when I’m done with him.” She chortled. “Just another joke, honey. He’s always dyin’ to talk to someone that isn’t me. It’d be a real treat to him. Treat ta me too! What do you say?”

Your mouth opened and closed as a light sheen of sweat broke over the nape of your neck. Mrs. Farrow’s sharp eyes were wider, attempting to beguile you while your head was still spinning. 

“I-I guess, maybe —” You stammered.

“Wonderful!” The eccentric woman’s eyes lit up like fireworks, cigarette-smoker’s voice becoming truly raucous in her delight. “I’ll go ahead and get started. You go get back to what it was you were doing before Lou and I interrupted you! And don’t worry about a thing! We might be old timers, but a good meal and good cheer never go out of style.” 

Mrs. Farrow laughed, pretending to shoo you away until you were back inside your apartment and she was pulling your door to a close for you. 

“Have a good night, honey! We’ll see you tomorrow! 6 o’clock, don’t be late!”

Before you knew it, you were staring at the back of your own door again. 

‘What the fuck just happened?’

[reallyromealone]

Title: hazbin security

Fandom: hazbin hotel

Characters: hazbin hotel ensemble, male reader

Fic type: story - romance

Pairings: angel dust x reader

Warnings: male reader, reader insert, angst, rape themes, reader is a giant, reader is a sweetheart, mentions of nsfw, adult language, mention of kinks, hurt to comfort

Notes: bing bong

🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️

The hotel went quiet as a hulking demon stepped in, having to crouch under he door to enter "uhh, hi?" Charlie said putting on a friendly smile as the 13 foot tall demon stared at her quietly and held up a paper advertisement along with a resume "oh! You're here for the security position!" She said excitedly as the massive demon nodded, everyone too unnerved by his hulking presence to even begin to think about anything else.

Charlie and Alastor went to the back with him, husk looking at angel dust with raised eyebrows as the door closed "holy shit!" Husk said to his close friend who's sipped his martini, nodding "he's a fuckin' giant, seriously! He could crush us!" The spider demon said almost awe struck as he barely hit the demons chest, angel knew he was probably hung like hell... Something he could feel in his stomach.

Charlie busted in "everyone meet our newest security! (Name)!" Charlie introduced the silent demon as the others awkwardly waved to no response as (name) nodded softly, a passive expression on his face.

And that's how it was, everyone went about their days as (name) despite his size lurked quietly in the shadows out of view but angel always kept a keen eye on him, he stressed him out... Reminded him of the people val made him sleep with.

Especially since (name) always glanced at him, like he was suspicious of him... Angel hated it.

"Give me the word, I'll handle him" husk would back up angel dust and the spider demon smiled at his best friend "thanks husky" he smiled, happy he found a genuine friend in the bartender as (name) threw out some crackhead who pissed on the carpet in defiance.

It was late as Angel dust walked to the hotel, exhausted and drained as his heels clicked against the pavement, today was shit and he just wanted to go home...

"Excuse me?" A gravelly voice called as the spider turned to see an imp with an intense glare "you're... You're Angel dust right? I saw your work..." They said seriously and angel felt his hair stand on edge as he looked at the other "what's it to ya?" Angel hissed out as the imp stepped closer and angel stepped back "I really... Admire your work... You look amazing on the big screen though... It pales to the real deal" they said heatedly as Angel felt he needed to get away and fast "no you don't!" The imp hissed out as he grabbed angel dust and pinned him to the ground "I wanna see if you're like how you are on the big screen!" The imp said maniacally as he tore at angels shirt.

Angel felt tears well up in his eyes, fuck he didn't want this to go how it did...

No!

Shit!

"Show me your cute-- holy shit!" The imp was lifted as angel shook, looking at his savior and was surprised when he saw (name) throw the imp like a ragdoll before lifting angel into his arm, the spider secured snuggly in his bicep as he went back to the hotel without a word. Angel was shaking as he just let (name) take him wherever, he didn't care anymore... He just wanted this night to be over.

(Name) Put his sweater over the other, nights in hell we're ice cold and (name) seemed genuinely worried as he took the scared demon back to the hotel. (Name) Didn't speak a word as angel looked up at him fearfully as he processed what happened.

The lobby and the hotel was pretty empty as it was late as everyone was either at home or in their respective rooms, the massive demon just clicking the elevator button as he glanced down at the other before looking forward.

"Wait this isn't..." Oh god, angel panicked as they passed his room and He felt his fears confirmed as they went to (name)s room and he was plopped on the bed unceremoniously, closing his eyes and expecting the worst until a t-shirt handed to him and the white haired demon watched as (name) turned around, Angel realized he gave him one of his massive shirts that fit like a dress. He hid the smile on his face at the fact the massive demon wanted to respect his privacy even though every part of angel had been broadcasted across hell.

But it felt nice... Being respected.

Angel felt awkward as he spoke softly "I'm uh, I'm finished changing big boy" he hoped it wasn't some kink, a lot of demons loved seeing angel in their clothes and fucking like that but was more surprised when (Name) Left the room as angel processed what happened and was elated to see the massive demon gold a tiny piggy in his hand, setting him in angels lap "nuggie!" Angel smiled as (name) sat on the ground, even sitting he held perfect eye contact "thanks... Why did you help me?" Angel didn't get it, no one ever did anything in hell without wanting something in return and (name) tilted his head "why wouldn't I?"

"So do you wanna fuck as a thank you?" Angel asked bluntly and (name) just stared at him "no"

"Then why would you help me if you didn't want to fuck?!"

"You deserve to be treated with respect, i wasn't going to allow such scum to treat you with anything less" the demon grunted, angel realizing that this was the first conversation be ever had with the other, the demons voice soothing to his ears. "you aren't as intimidating as I thought" angel said genuinely as he slid down beside (name), smiling up at him "I intimidated you?" (Name) Seemed genuinely confused and angel cackled "we all were! You're a massive demon who never talks!" (Name) Looked down at his own body and seemed to be in thought "that must be why people run..."

Angel let out a genuine laugh and kissed the others cheek "you ain't intimidating at all anymore to me!" He teased and (name) seemed flustered a bit at the others actions "nuggie seems to like ya" angel said as the tiny piggy crawled into (name)s lap and promptly fell asleep, normally he stuck to angel and angel alone.

"I just admit I have been feeding him little treats, my apologies" (name) seemed embarrassed as angel felt his heart melt a bit, not only was this giant so sweet to him but his pet!

(Name) Let angel sleep in his bed, the demon trying to set up shop on the floor when angel practically forced him on the bed "it's big enough for both of us!" And angel didn't want to sleep alone, the night shaking him up as he snuggled into (name)s side.

Waking up, angel was being held like glass as (name) cuddled him close to his chest as If he were the most precious thing in the world.

Angel didn't want to move, the domestically sweet energy making him feel emotions he wasn't used to.

And god was (name)s chest the most comfortable thing ever, practically smothered by the large pectoral muscles and his massive arms keeping him secure.

Maybe he could close his eyes and enjoy this a little longer...

When (name) woke he gently tucked the spider in as he got out of bed, grabbing a sweater for the other and a pair of boxers for him to wear as he wasn't sure if Angel wanted to wear sleep clothes when he woke...

What he didn't know was angel woke and stared at him curious as the massive demon out together some clothes for him, already dressed for the day and a goody smile played on his face.

He was gonna fuck this demon.

But romantically.

Angel stuck to (name) all day, the bigger demon letting him sit on his shoulder as he went about his day, angel dust talking away as the other listened carefully.

Eventually (name) needed to attend to things as he set angel carefully at the bar and walked off to do whatever it was charlie and Alastor needed him to do.

"So like, you fucking the big guy?" Husk asked bluntly and Angel dust explained what happened, the massive demon being nothing short of a gentleman to the lustful demon "he's only touched me to give me clothes or if I initiated it!" Angel was confused, usually people touch him first and without asking but (name) always looked at him for assurance before doing anything to the white spider, it was nice.

He felt special.

"You deserve someone nice like that, he's always watchin' ya, at first I thought he was glaring but now I think he was worried for ya" it was true, (name) always kept an eye on angel dust and the spider thought (name) was suspicious of him but...

Angel returned to the security demons room that night and (name) looks like a surprised puppy as he let the other in, angel looking up at him expectantly "I wanna fuck you but romantically" angel said simply and (name) tilted his head "you know you don't need to fuck me to be with me" he said simply and angel looked suspicious at him "what? You into cucking?"

(Name) Just lifted the spider and set him in his lap, absolutely tiny comparatively as he turned on the tv and pulled the blanket over them, kissing angel dusts forehead sweetly. Though their relationship seemed a bit rushed, angel couldn't help the goofy smile on his face as he snuggled into (name)s chest, the larger demon kissing his head softly.

Yeah...

He could get used to this.

[kjupchurch-xx]

⭐️ Perfect ⭐️

                            July 26th, 2024

                       Los Angeles, California

                Deadpool & Wolverine Premiere

Tonight was the night we'd all been waiting for, the night we've worked so hard for. Tonight was the premiere party for Deadpool & Wolverine. I'd been working with the director, Shawn Levy along with making sure Hugh and Ryan had everything they needed while on set. I developed a super close friendship with Hugh and Ryan during the long filming process. I'd also gotten close with Blake, Ryan's wife. To be quite honest, everyone on our crew is probably the only people I'd consider friends since moving to Los Angeles four years ago.

I've done several films as a director's assistant over the last three years, but this film had been the greatest project I'd been apart of. Blake and I were at my home getting ready for the premiere while Hugh and Ryan were with Shawn preparing to meet us at the premiere. Our stylist came by earlier to finish up Blake and I's hair and makeup. They had us both sporting cute up-dos with a more natural makeup look with lighter neutral colors.

"I wonder what the guys are wearing tonight." Blake said while slipping into her beautiful red dress.

I shrugged, grabbing my black dress, sliding it on, "I don't know. Shawn wouldn't say."

She chuckled, "He never does. Did your ex finally stop blowing you up? Wasn't he trying to like show up on set some of the days we were filming?"

I rolled my eyes with disgust, "Yes, and yes. It's so funny how you ignore someone when you're with them and cheat on them but once they leave you on your ass, you want their attention."

We grabbed our stuff and headed towards the door as we saw our ride pulling up the driveway, "Have you met anybody you're even interested in yet? Best way to get over someone is to get under someone else."  She smirked.

I laughed, shaking my head as we climbed into the SUV that was picking us up to shuttle us to the event, "Shut up, Blake. You're stating to sound like your husband."

She laughed, smiling at me, "You say that like it's a bad thing."

I looked at her, sarcasm dripping through my facial expression and my voice, "It is."

She took a hesitant breath, "Seriously though, someone asked me about you."

I looked at her curiously, "And who would that be?"

She smirked, "Hugh. He was at our place the other night while you and Shawn stayed behind to finish up cutting scenes."

My jaw dropped, "What did he say?"

She shrugged, "He just asked us how long you'd been single and if he seemed like your type. He said he thinks you're gorgeous."

I turned to face her, completely flabbergasted, "You are so full of shit, Lively."

She burst into laughter, "Ask Ryan!"

I widened my eyes, shaking my head, "He's more full of shit than you are!" I failed to contain my laughter at this point.

She giggled, "Just watch. Pay attention to how he looks at you at the premiere. You'll see."

I playfully rolled my eyes, "Okay, Blake."

Had Hugh actually talked to Ryan and Blake about me? He was a nice guy. We'd become friends since we met on set over a year ago. We'd done some press together and make each other laugh, but for some reason, I doubt he'd be interested in me. Not that there's anything wrong with me, he's just one of the biggest A-List celebrities in the world. He's also not even one year out of separation from his wife of 27 years. Dating is probably the last thing on this man's mind.

The rest of the ride was pretty quiet. I couldn't shake my thoughts. I think he's handsome, he's absolutely ripped and his personality is out of this world. His accent is pretty sexy, too.

As we pulled up to the premiere location, Blake and I exited our vehicle, "Let's go, girls." Blake said, channeling her inner Shania Twain causing me to smile.

"Where's the boys?" I asked as we walked down the corridor.

Blake checked her phone, "They're waiting to step onto the red carpet. Which is..." she trailed off while looking down the corridor, "Right down there on the left."

I nodded, trying to hide my nerves. I've been on other movie sets, I've worked with other stars but I've never done a red carpet event. What if I fall and bust my ass? What if my dress malfunctions? So many what-ifs. As we arrived to the end of the corridor, I see Hugh, Ryan and Shawn waiting for us. Blake walks over to Ryan and they share a quick kiss.

"Anyone else feel like a 3rd wheel?" I jokingly said towards Hugh and Shawn, causing Shawn to shake his head and laugh, "Every time I work with these two." He said.

Hugh hooked his arm around mine, "You can be my date tonight." He gave me a smile.

I blushed, looking towards Blake as she gave me a silly 'I told you' look while hooking her arm around Ryan's. "Ohhhh, Big Deb's gonna be pissed!" He spat jokingly causing us all to laugh.

Hugh shrugged, "Oh well. She's the one that wanted to end things. Time to move on. Plus, I don't want to be the nerd showing up without a date." He said with a laugh and cheeky grin.

Ryan looked at me, "Fuck you, your first time on the red carpet and you're going as Hugh Jackman's date. I had to fondle his balls just to get him on this film. You lucky, lucky girl."

I shook my head, about to ruin my 2 hour makeup job from tears hitting my eyes at this point due to laughing so hard. "Guys, I'm pretty sure we need to go out there." I chuckled pointing towards the doorway that led to the red carpet.

We all nodded in agreement and made our way out. The sound of the thousands of photographers, fans screaming and journalists on the red carpet filled my ears. I felt Hugh tighten his grip on my arm, whispering in my ear, "Don't be nervous, you're gonna do great!" Causing me to smile.

We all posed for pictures as the reporters went wild. Hugh had not been seen in public with anyone since his split last year, so this was a big deal. The movie we'd all worked our asses off on was a big deal. The shouting was unreal and unbelievably loud.

Blake and Ryan went to another spot to do solo photos, leaving Hugh and I to ourselves on the carpet. A reporter took this as his perfect moment to approach us with rapid fire questions I was bracing myself for.

"Hugh. Kaitlyn. How does it feel to be on the red carpet tonight?" He asked, shoving the microphone into our faces.

We at looked at each other, "It feels great, mate. Glad to be here." Hugh said with a smile.

"Like he said, we're honored to be here." I said with a big smile.

"Kaitlyn, this is your first time on the red carpet." The journalist said matter of factly.

I nodded in agreement, noticing Hugh has not taken his eyes off of me. "It is."

The journalist continued to pry, "First red carpet and you're on Hugh Jackman's arm, how does that feel?" He asked.

I blushed, "Ryan Reynolds paid me to be his date. Someone had to take one for the team." I smirked, causing the journalist and Hugh to laugh.

As we continued our walk down the carpet, Hugh moved his hand from my arm to around my waist. We talked with many more journalists and posed for hundreds of photos before heading off the carpet to the back of the venue. There were some artists that were due to perform for the event. Some of them included Ed Sheeran, Taylor Swift, Jelly Roll, etc.

Hugh looked over at me, "Noldsy paid you, huh?" He joked.

I joked, "Only a few hundred."

He playfully gripped his chest, "Ouch."

I threw my hands up signaling defeat, "If it helps, I'm glad I took one for the team and you weren't stuck holding Shawn on the red carpet."

He grimaced playfully at the sight, "You're certainly the prettier one."

I snickered. "Am I?"

He nodded with a cheeky smile, "Loads, sweetheart."

I'm starting to think Blake may have not been as full of shit as I'd thought. We made our way back to Blake and Ryan catching up in the crowd to watch the musical entertainment of the night. Taylor Swift took the stage first, causing Ryan to fan girl. Ed Sheeran came on right after, all was great until he began performing his hit song 'Perfect'. All of the couples in the crowd had begun slow dancing. It was a romantic, sweet song but being single in a crowd of couples was depressing.

I felt a presence behind me as a hand made its way to my lower back, "Care to dance with me?" I heard in an Australian accent.

I looked over my shoulder to see Hugh smiling a bit nervously. I turned to face him and gave him a nod and small smile, allowing him to pull me into his arms for a slow dance. We both swayed to the song, singing along, never breaking eye contact. I'd be lying if I said I wasn't hoping he'd kiss me. I could tell he was thinking about it as his eyes kept trailing from my eyes to my lips as he held me close, continuing to sway to the sound of Ed Sheeran serenading the crowd.

I slowly bit my lip as I noticed his eyes glance at my lips again. His face slowly coming closer. I could feel Blake and Ryan's gaze on us wondering what was about to happen. Did I even know what was about to happen? Did I want to know? Before I could process any more thoughts of my own, I felt his lips on mine. They were soft and he smelled so damn good.

I know we're standing in a room full of hundreds of thousands of people, but in this moment, it feels as if he and I were the only two people in the room. The kiss was slow and passionate.

He slowly pulled away, still swaying me and looked at me, "I'm sorry, but I've had a crush on you ever since we began working together. I've wanted to ring you so many times and tell you, but I didn't want to complicate things on set."

I smiled pulling him for another kiss, nibbling on his bottom lip before pulling away, "Ryan actually didn't pay me to be your plus one."

He chuckled, "I know."

I looked up at him, "Can we go somewhere else? Somewhere more private?"

He nodded, grabbing my hand, leading us through the massive crowd of people. As we made our way down out of the concert venue back to the corridor, we noticed Blake and Ryan already ahead of us.

"Ah Pal, gettin' lucky, huh?" Ryan smirked.

Hugh and I laughed, "We are too. It's okay. Embrace it. Embrace the amounts of great sex you're about to have." Ryan continued while nodding his head as if he were a love guru.

"Goodnight, Ryan." We both said in unison watching Blake, who was unable to control her laughter at this point.

Hugh and I made our way to the car and of course couldn't escape the sea of paparazzi. Except this time, we didn't pose for pictures and continued to the car. There were pressing matters that needed to be attended to first. Once we got into the car, we instructed the driver to take us to my house.

Hugh rested his arm around my shoulders, "How long have you known?"

I looked at him, confused, "How long have I known what?"

He looked at me seriously, "That I have a thing for you."

I shrugged, "I actually didn't. Blake mentioned it to me earlier, but I assumed she was full of shit. Kind of like the time you told Ryan to come to your Christmas party in an ugly sweater so he shows up and everyone else is in Dior."

Hugh laughed, "Love, you're anything but an ugly sweater at a party full of people wearing Dior."

I began laughing, "You get the point."

He gave me the boyish smile that had melted my heart since the first time I saw him onscreen and pushed a fallen strand of hair behind my ear, "You are the most elegant, beautiful woman I've ever laid eyes on."

I blushed, "You're not so bad yourself. I've actually had more of a school girl crush on you since the first X-Men movie."

He smiled cockily, "Really?"

I nodded, "Really."

He pulled me in for another kiss, this time pulling me onto his lap, deepening the kiss. I could feel his erection growing beneath me, causing me to pull away so we didn’t cause our driver to have a wreck before we made it back to my place.

“So what do we do now?” I asked casually, looking at him.

He shrugged, getting close to my ear, whispering “We’re going back to your place first, then I’m going to fuck you into the middle of next week. After that, we’ll cuddle. I’ll make you pancakes in the morning and after that, you’ll never want to leave.”

I chuckled pulling him into another kiss.

[neowinestainedress]

wait for me | lee jeno

title: wait for me

pairing: lee jeno x fem!reader

genre: smut

warnings: smut, unprotected sex, oral (m and f receiving), facef*cking, praise kink, minor degradation (more like teasing), (consensual) filming for one scene, pet names (princess, baby/babe, honey, good girl, silly girl, etc), mentions of p*rn, loss of virginity (it’s a social construct but you get the point), soft dom!jeno, innocent!reader, romantic but rough at times, a bit of aftercare

summary: jeno keeps his promise of turning you into a mess under him

wc: 6.195k

a/n: I take my time with things, but if I promise something, I will do it, so here’s a gift for my precious @everloving-avenue ♡ it took almost a year but the sequel to this drabble is here! you don’t have to read the first part to understand. the style is a bit different from the drabble because I do write in a different way, so I don’t know how it will flow if you read one right after the other, but I hope you’ll enjoy it anyway. I missed writing just good old smut with no plot. Same thing as the original drabble; I don’t think I’m the best when it comes to writing first times, so I hope this doesn’t suck completely. ps: missed writing about Jeno ♡

general taglist: @froggyforyoongi, @wingsss45, @tddyhyck | send an ask if you want to be added (i hope i didn't forget anyone cause i didn't use a tag, but from now on i will so i'll have everyone in the same place)

“Can you take it all, pretty girl?” Jeno never looked more intimidating than he does now, looking down at you while you’re on your knees, trying to keep your gaze locked in his and don’t divert it, too embarrassed and distracted by his big, hard dick standing so close to your face. 

You gulp, humming lowly and moving closer to the head of his cock, your lips brushing against it, making him laugh tenderly. 

“We can wait if you’re not ready,” he says, the husky tone of his voice sends shivers down your back, and even if he has been nothing but nice and respectful to you, your brain can only focus on the sexiness of it. 

“No, I...” you hesitate, lowering your head as you suddenly feel shy, “… I don’t know what to do.” Since you called him that night, you had been more daring, but Jeno always focused on you, and the bravest thing you’ve done to him was a handjob. This feels like such a big step, and you’re terrified you’ll let him down, no matter how much he has been reassuring you. 

A smile curls his lips, but it’s more of a grin as he bends over and lifts your chin up. “I’m here to teach you, am I right?” 

You feel your throat close for a moment as you bravely meet his eyes, you can see he’s holding back, and that makes a fire ignite in you. You’d even let him be rough with you — at least that’s what you saw while lurking on… those sites — but you don’t feel like pushing your luck. So you nod, swinging your ass on your heels as your knees rub against the carpet to move closer to him again. 

“Good girl,” he coos, kissing you quickly before standing up like before. “Open up,” Jeno orders, this time holding the base of his dick as he prods the tip against your lips. 

You do as he says, tongue coming out of your mouth as you try to remember what you saw in a few videos. 

Jeno smiles, teasing his length on it, watching as you try so hard to don’t look away. He thinks you’re really cute, really fucking cute, to be honest. There’s a bit of fear and a lot of eagerness in your eyes, and after months, he can’t hold back anymore. His free hand reaches for your cheek as he slowly starts pushing in, whispering to you to be careful to don’t bite and keep your mouth wide open, until he’s halfway in. 

You flinch, eyes squeezing as you feel the flow of air already dim in your lungs, hands immediately finding his thighs to hold onto something. 

Jeno snickers, pulling out and shaking his head. “Silly girl, you have to breathe, that’s like the most important part.” 

You feel like he’s testing the ground, being bolder in the way he talks to you during these moments, and you have no idea why, but you find it hotter than you imagined you ever would. Your thighs clench as you feel your pussy throb just at the way he had called you a silly girl. 

“Through your nose, darling. You got it?” Something about the way he’s so condescending makes you dizzy and answer him right away, eyes fluttering as you nod and part your lips again, this time not set for failure. 

He pushes into your mouth again, it’s slow and he grunts as he slides in, feeling your warm, wet mouth wrap around him. 

You gag on it when the tip reaches the back of your throat, but Jeno’s ready to calm you down. 

“Breathe deeply, babe,” he says, voice dropped by an octave as his thumb caresses the portion of your skin between your jaw and neck. “You’re being such a good girl for me.” 

Your toes curl at his words, and you feel a heavy weight being lifted from your back. Jeno feels it in the way your throat relaxes and how your cheeks suck him in. 

If only he didn’t wait so long, he would stay still for a bit more, but now that he has you like this, he can’t control himself. “Can you suck?” He asks, voice shaking. 

“I guess,” you mumble before pulling away to take a deep breath. “You want me to move on it?” 

“Yeah,” he hums. “I fear I won’t be so gentle if I do all the job.” 

You quirk a brow, tilting your head as you stare at him. “What do you mean?” 

He shakes his head. “Nothing. Just remember what I said, breathe through your nose, and you’ll be fine.” 

You’re not happy with the way he dismissed your question, but you ignore it anyway, taking his cock in your mouth another time. You close your eyes to concentrate more and you start to suck, bobbing your head slowly at first, until you find a rhythm he seems to like, and it’s not too much for you. 

It feels weird, yet, every time you feel like you’re doing something wrong — like when the lewd sounds of your mouth get louder when it hits too deep, or when your nails sink in his thighs hard, or when spit drools from your chin — Jeno only moans louder and the hold of his hand in your hair tightens. 

“Good girl,” he praises, and when you open your eyes, you see his head reclined, lips parted and eyelids sitting on his beautiful cheeks. “Taking my dick so well.” 

Your body burns up at his word, a mix of feelings you can’t explain getting to your brain, but you keep trying to do your best to work on him. Until something pops in your mind. You pull away, mostly to take your breath, but your hand immediately reaches his base to pump up and down. 

Jeno doesn’t say anything, he even manages to muffle the groan of disappointment he let out when your lips left him. He knows you need breaks, but he still doesn’t quite expect what you do next. The combo mouth-hand was not on his bingo today and he can’t believe you’re doing it. It takes you a while to find a rhythm — he finds it adorable how uncoordinated you are — but when you do… fuck, when you do. 

You’re moving slower than Jeno would go crazy for, but he likes it anyway. You’re trying your best, brows knitted in concentration, mouth and hand working together, and soft moans vibrating around him. Just the view is enough to push him closer to the edge, especially when you seem to relax completely. 

“Stay focused,” he calls you out, fearing you might stop doing the most important thing again; breathe. “Don’t get too lost, princess.” 

You hum, voice muffling around his length hitting deep in your throat while you open your eyes to look at him. His jaw is tense, and he’s breathing deeply through his nose, the veins of his arms are so visible, propping on his skin as his hand is closed in a fist. He’s trying not to look down at you, you won’t know it, but you look too hot right now, and if only his eyes move down, he would start fucking your face. 

But you can’t take it. It’s your first time, and he has to be gentle. He can’t act like an animal without self-control, because he is not, right? 

Yet the more you softly moan, and gag and suck him, hollowing your cheeks while your hand shily works on the base and his balls, the harder it gets. 

When he practically growls, you pull back, terrified you did something wrong, unaware eyes looking into his. 

“Did I hurt you? I’m sorry, I — I was careful with my teeth, I’m sure I wasn’t —” 

He clicks his tongue, shaking his head as he shuts you up with his thumb on your lips, now plumper and red with spit dripping from a corner down to your chin. “You did nothing wrong,” his breath is ragged and his pupils are dilated, his chest is heaving quickly while his hair is starting to wet around the crown of his forehead. “You’re being good, baby, too good.” 

You blink, confusingly staring at him. “Too good? How can I be too good?” 

Jeno sighs, caressing your cheeks, wetting them with the spit that stuck to his thumb. “You really have no idea how fucking hot you look right now, don’t you?” 

You purse your lips, shaking your head as you keep looking up. Feeling oh so small. 

A smirk paints his face. “Should I show you?” He asks, but you don’t get it until he grabs the phone from the nightstand and shakes it in his hand. 

“Oh, that,” you gasp, feeling your throat go dry. 

“Only if you want, of course,” he reassures, sensing your hesitation. 

“I — it’s fine. If it stays on your phone, it’s fine,” you say, feeling yourself get wetter at the thought of him taking a picture of you at such a moment. It’s also curiosity. Are you really that good? Do you look as pretty as the girls in those videos? You doubt that, even if they look like a mess they’re always so pretty, but you? Maybe Jeno is just being nice because it’s you. 

“Of course, princess. Trust me, I wouldn’t let anybody else see you like this.” And also, for all the times he is going to have you in that position, he would even delete it once you are done, if you prefer it. 

You nod, shifting in your place because you don’t know what to do, should you pose? Should you take it in your mouth again? But Jeno answers your questions when he grips your chin and forces your head up, you’re not as messed up as he wishes you were, but this will do. “Smile for me,” he says and you do, feeling awkward. You’d like to disappear if only you couldn’t see his cock throb in your peripherical view, he wants you so much. 

So, as soon as the phone moves away with praises coming out of his mouth, you lean in, taking it inside again. 

“Fuck,” Jeno curses, clutching the phone in his hand, struggling to show you the picture of you. “Let me fuck your face,” he pleads, words followed by ragged moans, “you can tap my thigh if it gets too much but — fuck — let me try.” 

You pull away, trying to follow him, but even if you are doing something to him, your brain is already lost in the pleasure, and the fact you have pretty much no idea what he’s talking about doesn’t help. “Like in the videos?” 

“I won’t be that harsh, I promise,” and even if pleasure is running in his body, you can hear the honesty in his voice. 

“O — okay, but…” you drift your gaze away, “can you film us? So I can see after?” 

A deep groan reverberates in his chest, followed by a low suck of air. He can’t believe this is real, that you are real. So innocent and pure, asking for such things. But he’s more than happy you are the one proposing stuff to him. “Yeah, fuck, yes.” 

You shouldn’t feel like this just hearing his voice and moan, but you do, and the way your panties are sticking to your pussy is getting unbearable, you can’t wait to have him down there, so you part your lips, and wait for him to take the invitation. 

Jeno doesn’t waste a second more, shoving himself down your throat, stopping to give you time to adjust to the rough intrusion of his girth before he starts moving his hips against your face. 

At first, it feels weird, you have no control, and the pace is faster than yours, but you try to remember what he said before; you focus on your breathing and the sweet sounds coming from his mouth. Mostly because the ones coming from yours are too dirty for you to bear with. 

“Fuck, babe, just like this,” he praises, one hand holding up the phone and the other caressing your cheek, trying to give you something soothing while he moves with force, it’s not too strong, surely not like one video you accidentally watched — and closed right away because it was way too much. This feels like a great compromise between your slower pace from before and the facefucking.

“My pretty baby, taking me so well,” Jeno moans, smiling at you when he sees a glint of a smile in your eyes. “You still don’t believe me, do you?” 

You try to answer him non-verbally, but the way he’s thrusting into you doesn’t give your head any room for movement. He tsks, shaking his head disappointedly. “Don’t believe me when I call you beautiful when we go out on dates, don’t believe me when I whisper it to you in the morning, and not even now? Do I really have to show you?” 

You feel like choking, but not on his dick. It’s because of his voice, his words, and the tone he’s using. Your breath falters more when he turns the phone to you, the video playing what you were doing just a few moments ago. You should think it’s weird, humiliating even, but you don’t. It’s turning you on even more, and you do look pretty like he says. 

“See how beautiful you are even like this?” His voice is heavy, reaching deep into your core, making your pussy clench around nothing and drool out more excitement. “Your glossy eyes, your pretty lips stretched open just for me. Do you believe me now, princess?” 

You nod, nails digging into his thigh because the video and him are deconcentrating you and you fail to do the most important thing; breathe. You gasp when he pulls out, a thread of spit connects your lips with the tip of his cock as you sputter, trying to catch your breath. 

“Are you okay?” He asks worriedly, throwing the phone on the bed and staring at you with a concerned look on your face. “You know you should stop before reaching your limit?” 

“I know,” you cry out, cleaning your chin before lifting your gaze at him. “I was doing fine, but I… I forgot how to breathe.” 

Jeno snickers, caressing your lips with his thumb, smearing the mess on your chin another time. “You forgot how to breathe, baby? Didn’t fuck you yet, and you’re already my dumb baby?” He’s clearly testing the waters another time, you discussed these things a lot, but Jeno knows that videos and stories on the internet are a completely different thing from reality and he’s not so confident everything you think turns you on will actually turn you on. But apparently dirty talking, a mix between a lot of praises and just a hint of degradation, turns you on for real. He watches your thighs clench and your boobs rise while a choked moan leaves your lips. 

He smiles, or better, grins, tapping your face with his cock. “Will you let me fuck your mouth until I come, silly girl? Should we see just how dumb you get on me?” 

You nod eagerly, moving even closer with your knees, sure by now you were going to have marks of that night tomorrow. But not even the discomfort can stop you from letting him have his way with you. 

You moan louder when he pushes inside you this time, hands reaching his thighs for support while he starts moving quickly in and out, groans falling copiously from his tongue, balls slapping against your chin, and strong grip on the side of your face. 

You can’t take it anymore and you start rubbing your thighs together, trying to get a tiny bit of relief as his moans progressively get lower, aggressive and messier. He always tries to hold back but you’re loving this side of him. 

“Where — fuck — where do you want me to come?” He asks, slowing down a bit, only now realizing you’re wearing your favourite tank top and he doesn’t want to ruin your clothes, but were you ready for the whole thing? “Shirt?” When you shake your head he tries to think of something else, but the only option is not much better. “Floor?” But you shake your head again, and there’s only one thing left, “mouth?” You nod, eyes beaming, and he loses it. “Fuck,” he groans, hips stilling against your face as the orgasm hits him, making him empty inside of you. He drags out to don’t make you choke on his cum and then pulls away, still shuddering and moaning, expecting you to spit, having decided to play with fire and surely regretting it, but you don’t. Your face is contorted in an expression he can’t read, but you swallow everything, and then look up at him with innocent eyes. 

“Was I good?” 

“Fuck, honey, yes,” he says, lifting you up by wrapping an arm around your waist, making you lay on the bed. “So good,” he praises. 

You smile but feel shy once again when he doesn’t start anything more. You’re aching, and you want him. Everything. His mouth and fingers are not enough anymore, you need him now. 

“Jeno,” you moan. “Please.” 

“Yeah?” he asks nonchalantly. 

You huff, rolling your eyes. “Don’t make me say it.”

“Oh, no, princess, I want to hear you. Use your big girl words,” he orders.

“I want you to fuck me,” you breathe out, barely holding eye contact with him. 

He smiles victoriously, feeling his dick harden again just from hearing your voice say those filthy words. “Are you sure?” He checks in, quirking a brow.  

You hum. “I’m dripping,” you whisper, feeling too conscious about the mess between your legs. “I’m ready.” 

Jeno tried to postpone this as much as he could, not because he didn’t want you, but because he wanted to wait for you and respect your time. He knows you tend to jump into things head first, but after a brief look at you, he knows this time isn’t the case. Since the daring call, you two experimented a lot, so this was the right moment to give you everything. 

“Stop me if anything makes you uncomfortable, alright?” 

You nod, silently watching as he adjusts between your legs, pulling down your stained panties before throwing them to the side. You don’t expect his lips to leave kisses on your thighs, quite frankly you feel more eager than usual to get what you wanted right away, but it’s clear he has other plans. 

You still shy away every time he’s between your legs, feeling too conscious about how intimate you two are being. And it makes you even more dizzy when Jeno breathes in deeply before sucking on your clit. 

“Jeno,” you cry out, covering your face with your hands. 

“What, baby? How many times do I have to tell you not to cover yourself?” He scolds, eyes staring at you from between your legs. “Move your hands away or I’ll leave.” 

You barely give him time to finish that your hands are sitting at the sides of your body, and your hips are bucking up, inviting him to take care of you. 

“Eager baby,” he whispers before spreading your thighs wider, sinking down to lick your wetness. “Taste so good, princess.” 

“It’s weird,” you mumble, you truly can’t get what he finds so hot about it, and how good you taste. 

Jeno clicks his tongue, groaning in disappointment. “You don’t have to taste it,” he says, giving another harsh suck to your clit that makes your thighs shudder, “it’s all for me, and I love it.” 

Your head rolls back when he starts moving his tongue on you as soon as he’s done with his words. He’s neat, like his usual, sucking and licking until he has you shaking underneath him. But usually — the four times you’ve done this before — you just lay there. This time your fingers find their way in his hair, tangling in it as you push him closer. 

“Fuck, babe,” he moans, voice muffled against your body. “I’m not going anywhere,” he giggles and the vibrations push your brain in a spiral while your head rolls back. 

You bite down a high-pitched moan when he pushes two fingers inside you after collecting your arousal and his spit. If you want to take him — and you do — he has to get you ready for the big thing —literally. So he sucks on your clit and pumps in and out of you faster, scissoring his two digits every now and then to stretch you out more. 

“So welcoming, angel,” he hums, pulling away from your clit with a loud pop, “do you want me that much?” You must be particularly turned on because his fingers slide into you with ease, more than the other times when it took him a while to get you accommodated to the intrusion. 

“Yeah, I…” your words die in your mouth as you stare at the ceiling, feeling so, so close to the high. It’s a feeling you know quite well now, but it still catches you by surprise every time. And you fear you will never get used to any of this, not anytime soon, at least. 

“You?” He coos. “You want my cock in you? Want to finally know what it feels like to be fucked nice and deep?” 

You want the mattress to eat you as he speaks those words, but your body reacts in a completely different way, burning up as your orgasm washes over you, leaving you breathless against the bed. 

Jeno pulls his fingers out of you, sucking them clean when he’s sure your watching. “Tastes so good, no matter what you say, baby.” 

You let out a shaky breath, feeling your body buzz in ecstasy. 

“Come here,” he says, leaning in, lips to lips, “taste yourself on me.” You kiss him with no hesitation, not because you’re eager to taste your cum, but because you want to feel him as close as you can. 

“Jeno, please,” you beg, cupping his face before pulling him into another kiss. “I need you.” 

“I know you do,” he says, softly caressing your side. “Can you take it, though?” 

You nod swiftly, hips desperately grinding against him, feeling his cock against your skin. “I’ll be good, I promise.” 

Jeno smiles softly, finding it so cute how you still worry about him when you should focus on yourself. He kisses you while his right hand is busy rummaging in the stand next to the bed to find lube. 

“But I’m wet,” you complain when you realize what he’s doing, feeling a bit guilty because maybe it’s still not enough. 

“Yes, you are,” he agrees, kissing your body as he slowly stands on his knees and positions you better on the bed. “But I’m big, and I don’t want to hurt you.” 

You purse your lips in a thin line, trying to don’t overthink this, but Jeno gets something is wrong. 

“Hey, there’s nothing wrong with a bit of help. Also, lube can make things funnier, so why are you sulking?” 

“I’m not, I just — I want to be good like the girls you had be—” 

“No comparing, you are you, and I love you,” he stops you before you can finish, opening the bottle of lubricant but still waiting for your full consent. “Just trust me on this, alright?” 

“Yeah, I trust you,” you breathe out, voice shaking, and as you stare as he pours the cold liquid on his hard dick you realize this might be the smartest choice. Also, you have to remind yourself that porn is fake, and probably not even as funny as they make it out to be, so why would you want to ruin the fun with your boyfriend just to copy it?

“For anything, even if it’s just discomfort, stop me, alright?” 

You nod, feeling your nerves out of your skin, but Jeno wants you down on earth with him, and he needs to hear your voice. “Honey? What do you do if something’s wrong?” 

It takes you a while to realize he’s talking to you and even a bit more to answer. “I tell you,” you stutter, searching for his eyes because this is getting real and all your confidence is falling apart. 

“Good girl,” he praises, kissing you on the lips. 

When the tip of his cock presses against your entrance you know for sure using lube was the best idea he ever had in his entire life. Your jaw slacks, hands immediately reaching his back to sink in the skin of his shoulders as your chest rises heavily. 

“Honey, you’re too tense,” he says, pulling away. 

“No, I’m not,” you cry out, trying to push him in by locking your legs around his waist but he’s stronger than you and doesn’t let you do the dumbest thing you could ever do. 

“We don’t have to do it, you know right?” 

“But I want to,” you whine. “It’s just… big.” 

“Then we can wait.” 

“No, just… ease the tip in and then sink slowly,” you breathe out. 

“But you need to relax,” he says. “Let me do something.” It’s not what you expect him to do, but when his lips start leaving soft pecks on your skin, you can only relax under his attention. “That’s it, princess, loosen up,” he whispers against your neck, trailing down to kiss your chest, noting you’re still dressed in your camisole and he has to move it to have access to your skin. “Can I lift this off? Want to feel you close to me.” 

You hum, nodding your head in small movements as you try to relax your muscles. He quickly takes it off of you before going back to your skin, kissing and sucking, until goosebumps pervade you, distracting you while the fat head of his cock presses against your slit and you barely even notice.  

Jeno hums when he quickly glances up and you’re too lost in pleasure to tighten up around him, but he doesn’t push further in. “Good girl. Here,” he says, searching for your hand on the mattress, “hold my hand.” 

You do as he says, parting your legs when you realize he’s back where he was before, barely inside. “More, please,” you implore, meeting his eyes that turn into half-moons for a brief moment as he smiles back at you. 

He doesn’t ask more questions, afraid of tensing you up again, and pushes past your entrance. 

“Mhh,” you bite back, forcefully trapping your lower lips between your teeth to don’t let out weird sounds. 

Jeno stares at you, trying to study your body as he keeps moving, soothing circles on your waist. He’s barely halfway in and he’s not sure about what to do. 

“It’s… it’s weird,” you mumble, feeling shy when you two make eye contact. 

“Bad weird or good weird?” 

You shrug. “I don’t know, it’s not bad, it doesn’t hurt,” you reassure him. “You can push in, I’m relaxed.” 

You are, your shoulders are not tensed and your legs are parted on your own, your breath is also much more regular than before. So he does, he slowly buttons in, taking your breath away. 

You gasp, head rolling back as you feel full like never before. 

Jeno wants to back away when you start�� laughing. “Are you okay?” 

You nod swiftly, “Yeah,” you smile. “It’s… I… I don’t know how to explain this,” you try to reason but truly there’s nothing rational about this. It’s the surprise because you can’t believe it happened and it’s the way it feels as your pussy automatically clenches around him. “I think you can fuck me,” you say, feeling the shame disappear. 

“I can take more time for you to adj—”

“I’m dripping and I’m ready for you, it doesn’t hurt,” you say, cupping his chin. “I’ve panicked about this moment enough, I know what I’m letting you doing.” You truly did, reading around way too much about what the first time felt like, knowing it wasn’t supposed to hurt or bleed like society said, and trusting him enough to do this. 

Jeno fights a chuckle to don’t ruin this completely and starts moving in and out of you. Studying your face with every move, his thrusts are slow at first, not only because he doesn’t want to push you too far, but also because he wants to see your reaction and feel you. Your eyes are closed while your lips are parted to let out the softest whimpers and moans, one hand is still holding his tight while the other is on his shoulder to hold onto him. 

“You’re so pretty,” he whispers, kissing you passionately, starting to pick up a rhythm when you don’t squirm away but your hips roll against his instead. “How does it feel?” 

“Good,” you cry out, “so good.” 

“Yeah? Told you it would feel good,” he groans, hips dragging in and out of you at a steady rhythm. He’d love to go faster, but he doesn’t want to hurt you or turn this into a bad experience. He wants to take it slow, and make you feel loved. “Better than those stupid videos you watch. You don’t need them to learn, they’re bullshit anyway, you have me.”

You groan, trying to hide away as you remember how he had caught you more than once as you tried to learn how to get better at this, no matter how many times he had told you he was there to guide you. “I will — I will disappoint you,” you cry out. 

“Yeah, are you sure?” He hums, kissing you briefly, hitting harder inside you, making you whimper a broken moan. “Then if you’re so afraid you’ll — fuck — disappoint me, it means I’ll have to fuck you more, ugh, how’s that sound?” 

You try to come up with words that make sense, but you hardly can breathe. It feels too much, lost in what’s happening now, and what is yet to happen. The idea he won’t hold back anymore, that at any chance he will try to make you feel good, and you will do too, sending your brain in a spiral. 

“Oh, imagining it already, nasty baby? One taste and you’re already addicted to this?” Jeno mocks playfully, cooing in your ear, sending waves of electricity down your spine. “Next time I won’t fuck you nice and slow on the bed, no,” he chuckles, brushing away the hair that is sticking to your sweating forehead. “I’ll get a bit rougher with you, do you want that?” 

You barely wait for him to finish the sentence and you’re already nodding, gripping harder on his shoulders, nails sinking in his skin, as you already savour the moment. “On the desk,” you utter shyly, slowly parting your eyes to meet his, dark and intense, piercing into your soul. 

He snickers, dick throbbing inside of you because he can’t wait to slowly discover all the little things you secretly fantasize about, he wants to watch your innocence fall apart right in front of his eyes, and he wants to be the one tearing it apart. He wants you to trust him enough to let him inside all your darkest and deepest secrets. 

“You want to be fucked on the desk?” He taunts, lightly slapping your ass, drawing a louder moan from you. “Yeah? Want to be bent over my desk?” 

You nod swiftly, trapping your tongue between your teeth as the intense feeling starts growing more and more in your stomach. “Wa-want you to pull my hair.” You’re not even sure you will like it, but you feel like everything is worth a shot with Jeno, you trust him, and you know he will respect you if you won’t like something. Even harsher things that scare you a bit, they don’t look so scary with him. 

“Fuck, baby,” he groans, rolling his head back, beads of sweat pearling his forehead. “You’ll kill me,” he whispers, teeth gritted as he tries to don’t sound too raw with his moans, but it’s hard when your pussy is gripping him so tight, your face is rolled back in bliss, your boobs are bouncing with his every move, and dirty words are coming out of your mouth. He’s not used to this and your curses, it’s used to your avoiding gazes and your small imprecations that are not curse words. 

You’re not used to this either. It’s like you opened the door to a new world and you don’t quite know how to move in it. There are endless possibilities, and you’d love to grasp them all now, but you can’t. You fear you can barely face what’s coming right now. 

“Weird,” you breathe out, chest heaving quicker as Jeno’s thrusts get faster and the hold of your legs around his waist tightens. “Too much.” 

“It’s not too much, princess. You can take it,” he says, kissing your cheeks. 

“No, it’s — it’s,” you choke on your words ‘cause you can’t quite explain how you’re feeling right now. 

Jeno kisses your lips again, it’s messier than before, and in the tangle of it, he asks if you want him to stop, but you don’t, and you almost scream a negative answer. “Please, no, don’t stop. I just — I feel like — I…” 

“It’s stronger than the other times?” He finishes for you, at least that’s what he can get from the way your body is squirming under him and how much cum is coating his dick. 

You nod, squeezing your eyes hard and opening your mouth to let as much air possible inside of your lungs. “It’s good, it’s so good, but I… I can’t take it.”

“You can, honey, you can,” he whispers, soothing you with circles on your hip. “Breathe deeply, like before.” 

You’d love to curse at him because how can you focus on your breathing during this specific moment? It’s impossible, and you don’t even want to. You like the way you feel upside down, it’s chaotic but good, and you don’t want it to stop. 

You pull him closer, kissing him harder, running your fingers through his hair to stop torturing his poor shoulders. “Want you, please.” 

“I’m here,” he hums. “Come with me?” 

You nod in a non-verbal reply, trying to don’t get overwhelmed by the feeling but it’s difficult, especially when his hand reaches for your clit and starts playing with it, and his moans get louder and messier. He sounds so hot, and that’s the last thing you need to let your pleasure invade you. 

“Jeno,” you scream his name, arching your back off the bed as pleasure runs through your body and soon after the same happens to him, filling you with his cum as he lazily pumps in and out to ride your orgasms. 

“Fuck,” he curses, letting his forehead fall on yours, pushing your legs closer to your chest before his movements come to a stop, and he feels like collapsing on top of you. He doesn’t, he keeps his body up with his elbows as he leaves pecks on your face. 

“Are you alright, love?” Jeno asks after a few seconds and you can only nod, still short of breath. He leaves one more kiss on your lips before pulling out of you, making you sigh at the loss of contact when he rolls to the side and jumps out of bed. “Stay right there,” he says before walking out of the room. 

“As if I can walk,” you giggle in a whisper, feeling your legs wobbly and your heart exploding out of your ribcage. You’re still lost in that daydream when Jeno comes up and starts to clean you up, doing his best to don’t overstimulate you — he’s got time for that.

You don’t say anything, only stare at him while his black hair falls on his forehead and you can’t believe you got so lucky. Once he’s done, he comes by your side, pulling close to his body and leaving kisses on your face. The one that breaks the silence again it’s him. 

“So, how was that? Good as you expected or did it let you down?” 

You giggle, moving your head so you can meet his eyes. “You really think this could’ve let me down?” 

“Well, I don’t know, I thought you were pretty vanilla and there you were, begging me to bend you over and pull your hair,” he chuckles, caressing your cheek. “Maybe your fantasies were different than this.” 

“It was amazing,” you smile, fighting the embarrassment caused by his words as you look at him. “Thank you for waiting for me.” 

Jeno smiles, eyes lighting up before his lips fall on your forehead again. “I would wait for you forever.” 

© neowinestaindress; all rights reserved. do NOT repost, modify, or translate any work from this blog on any other platform and claim it as yours. you can find my works on ao3 (neowinestaindress) and wattpad (winestaintedress_; currently inactive).

[pinkie-quinns]

rocker eddie/actor steve | exes to ?? | fame au p2 | p1 p3 p4 p5 interlude p6

The picture itself is not incriminating.

In the five years since Eddie’s wet dog apology they have been cordial to each other. Eddie seemed to have finally grown up. Finally got the hint. He doesn’t bug Steve after that night. He stays in his lane.

After a few years it’s a nod at a charity event. A half-smile at the town’s trendy new restaurant. A card when Steve gets an Emmy nod for his HBO series. Steve tries to not mind it. Tries to not let it get under his skin. He doesn’t send Eddie anything when he gets his Grammy.

LA is a small town. Eddie moved back once he finished his first tour. Steve does his best to keep his circle separate but LA is a small town. He nearly ends up at Eddie’s 30th after his coworker tries to drag him to some “rager in Loz Feliz.”

Sometimes, after another break up leaves him feeling shit-all, Steve drives past their dingy old place in West Hollywood. Tries to picture the version of the story where Eddie wasn’t eaten by his monster ego. Lets himself imagine them happy. Lets himself cry over it again. Like it happened yesterday instead of a decade ago.

But then he blinks and it’s been twelve years and yeah, maybe he hasn’t felt home like he did with Eddie, maybe no one else has fit him quite so right. But maybe he was just young and everything felt bigger then.

He feels weirdly at peace about it all. It’s not forgiveness, he doesn’t know if he’ll ever be able to stomach that, but it is acceptance. It took a long time to scar but it's finally just a faded pink line. He’s happy.

And then the photo starts to circulate.

The picture itself is not incriminating.

It’s their old WeHo apartment. Eddie’s hopped on the grimy kitchen counter, acoustic guitar in hand. He’s smiling at Steve and Steve is leaned against the wall and he’s smiling back. And it’s Them. And Steve thinks they’ve never looked so young.

He doesn’t know who took the photo. Maybe Robin or Nancy or Jon. They visited a lot in that first year.

He doesn’t know how it ended up digitized, posted to a random pop culture subreddit.

What he does know is that he and Eddie have never publicly acknowledged each other.

The internet treats the picture like a cute little chachki in the first few days. A buzzpop factoid #67. It’s “Did you know Tommy Lee Jones and Al Gore were college roommates?”

But then news outlets were picking it up. And Eddie was halfway through promoting his third album.

They’re dead lucky the picture is not incriminating.

Steve’s still not technically out– he’s had quiet relationships with men but his team preferred a starlet on his arm at the carpets.

Eddie’s out the way a rockstar is. He’d fuck anything as long as it made him a pervert.

Their teams move fast.

The official story is that they’d both moved to LA to pursue their careers. They roomed together because they knew each other from their small town. Then Steve booked his show and Eddie moved to London and they lost touch.

Eddie repeats it on talk show after talk show. He lies and says they’re still friendly now, but their schedules keep them both so busy. They haven’t caught up in a while. He goes wistful when he says it. Steve tries not to feel downright bitter. It does quiet the chatter down.

In November, his manager tells him he’s presenting at the Golden Globes. The studio had asked him specifically, still under contract to promote their animated movie. He agrees cause he needs eyes on the tiny indie he'd finally gotten made.

In December, he finds out who he’s presenting with.

Steve throws a fit. It’s uncharacteristic. It’s not at all in line with the nice-guy persona he’s spent years cultivating. But they’ve managed to get this far without him actually having to talk to the guy. He doesn’t ever want to have to talk to Eddie Munson again.

His manager lures him off the ledge. It’s too late to change the line-up. He's put in years of work to get his movie made. She reminds him that it’s Hollywood. Everyone has to deal with this shit. Not worth blowing it all up because he can’t handle 30 minutes with his ex.

So Steve plays nice but Eddie skips out on rehearsal. Of fucking course. Twelve years and he’s still so predictable.

Steve reads the teleprompter next to a random PA and decides then and there to say Fuck Healing. He did that. And now he’s being punished. Again. He’s fucking pissed.

He’s pissed that the photo got out. He’s pissed at whoever leaked it. He’s pissed enough to convince himself it was Eddie. He’s pissed Eddie’s shouldering his way back into his life even if it wasn’t him.

And yeah, he’s still fucking pissed that Eddie left in the first place.

Steve first sees him on the carpet. It’s from a distance, and he’s determined to keep it that way for as long as possible. He wishes Eddie dashed for the real thing too, but he knows his ego couldn’t take the blow. Eddie Munson loves attention too much.

Eddie looks great, cause he’s a celebrity & it’s a 10-person job to make him look great.

Eddie looks great cause he’s always looked great. Even when his hair was all frizz and his hygiene habits were questionable at best. And Steve hates him but his dick has never gotten the memo.

Steve deals with it by drinking a lot. It’s the Globes! He sits at his table and smiles and they give him alcohol and he drinks it. It’s stupid and it’s reckless and it’s the only thing that’s gonna get him through this torture. So he picks at his ugly velvet suit and he drinks.

The wranglers grab them 20 minutes before they’re set to present. It’s earlier than usual but Munson’s been known to dash.

They’re sitting on opposite couches in the green room. Eddie’s vibrating. Leg jittering nonstop. Steve’s starting to feel woozy. They’re not talking.

After five minutes, Eddie clicks his tongue and gets up. “Gonna take a leak.” His wrangler starts after him. “Follow me and I cut off your dick.”

Steve looks at the kid, weighing tearily whether his job was more important than his penis, “I’ll- I'll make sure he’s back on time.”

Steve stumbles riled down the hall, opens the door with a slam, “You leak the photo, Munson?”

Eddie’s already washing his hands. Steve catches his reflection in the mirror. He looks weirdly hurt.

“Steve,” Eddie says his name so... sad, “C’mon, man. I- I wouldn’t do that.”

Steve laughs cold, puts his hands in his suit pockets. “Sure, yeah, man. You’d just disappear for seven years. Come back with some horseshit apology because you finally got what you wanted. Cause your ego could finally handle being around me. But sure. You wouldn’t do that.”

Eddie steps back into the wall, looks at Steve with those watery brown eyes. They’re framed by crows feet now. “Steve, I–”

Steve boxes him in, makes it so he can’t slip away this time, “You know there was a week there where I thought you'd fucking died.”

He feels like a live wire. He feels every awful thing he’s felt for a dozen years bubble to the surface.

“Mike Wheeler told me where you went. Mike. Wheeler. I thought you were dead in a ditch, you asshole. Thought I’d lost you forever. But no. You just skipped town– Skipped town because I loved you and you fucking hated me.”

He doesn’t know when grabbed a fist into Eddie’s shirt. He wants to tear it. It’s probably insured.

“Stevie,” Eddie’s blubbering. Their faces are close enough that Steve can see his lip quivering. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, baby.”

Now Steve really wants to laugh. Baby. It’s such garbage. Total bullshit.

“I wish you’d died. It would’ve hurt less.” He says it dry, with his big wide movie-star smile. Then he spits, bullseye on Eddie’s cheek, “I fucking hate you.”

It’s so strange to see Eddie up close after all this time. He’s blurry in the memories but so vivid here, so harsh. Makeup cracking into nicotine wrinkles. Different. A mask of the person Steve knew.

He breathes, “I know.”

----

Eddie's tongue still tastes the same.

[claraswritings]

Reader opens a bookshop opposite the Bear. Her and Carmy meet and she holds back cook books for him and he cooks her food 😭

Omg cute 🥰 I put a bit of a twist on this one I hope you don’t mind but blurb btc

No TW just fluff

You’d been in the city for a little over two months when had met him. Carmen Berzatto.

He’d stumbled in, slightly pink in the cheeks looking for a book about a ‘magical pony’.

You’d given him a smile, small and tweaking at the corner of your mouth and pointed off to the colourful section down around a corner

“First display in the kids section. If you get lost it’s directly under the inflatable unicorn”

“Thanks” he ran a hand through a mess of curly hair and took off.

“It’s not for me” he told you when he’d returned with it in hand, some of the glitter from the cover now stuck to his patchwork jacket.

“I’m not one to judge.” You stated matter of factly. Even if it was for him, a grown man buying a unicorn book would not be the weirdest thing you’d seen.

“I promise it’s for…my cousins kid. I mean he’s not actually my cousin…but he’s…”

You looked amused.

“Okay, I believe you. Thousands wouldn’t” you teased as you slipped the pink sparkly book into a bag and handed it over.

“Is this place new?” He asked as if it had just dawned on him this was no longer the carpet shop it used to be and you raised your eyebrows.

“About two months.”

He let out a low whistle and nodded “I’m…Carmen, Carmy…I own erm…” he stopped and gestured out of the window hoping he sounded better out loud than he did in his head.

“The Bear?” You asked and when he tilted his head in confusion “I know. I’ve seen you come and go. It’s a big window.”

He winced even though it didn’t sound like a dig.

“Sorry, I would have said hi sooner, I’ve not…I’ve not been with it. Busy getting ready to re open.”

He winced again. You’d obviously not long since opened too.

“It’s okay” you said in the same way you’d said ‘I’m not one to judge’ and Carmy weirdly liked that. “I had a sandwich there a while back…when I was viewing this place. Maybe I’ll come in sometime.”

The way you said it was genuine. Not in the placid, token sentiment way people said it. You sounded like you mean it

“I’ll, uh, lemme know and I’ll sort you a table.”

****

It went on like this for a little while.

He’d started coming in every few days, mostly following Eva and Richie in.

“Ah, the cousin and his daughter are real.” You’d quipped the first time. “See I held back the new unicorn book thinking this guy was a secret fan…” you winked at Carmy before pausing “Guess I’ll have to give it to this little lady!” You passed Eva over a book which she ran off excitedly with

Richie had given you a nod and a “Thanks sweetheart” before slapping Carmy on the back and following his daughter off to the kids table.

The look he gave Carmy did not go unnoticed by you. Almost as soon as they were out Richie had turned to him with this shit eating grin

“Wonder why you wanted to go in. Real obvious cousin.”

“What? Was I?? Do you think she noticed?” Suddenly Carmy felt about sixteen and awkward again, as he glanced over through the window at you.

Richie clipped him around the head with the book “Just ask the nice lady out, fucko”

***

“Carmy!” You’d grinned when he’d come in a few days later. “I kept you a present”

He raised an eyebrow “Uh, yeah, you mentioned something about…” you paused not wanting to butcher the French pronunciation. “A French evening? At your place?”

You ducked behind the counter and picked up the hardback book, placing it on the counter with a dramatic drop.

“Here.” You pushed it towards him

It was a famous chefs latest book. Full of recipes and inspiration from his upbringing in Marseille and about his three star restaurant in Nice. “This is signed.” Carmy’s eyes widened

“Yes. I know” you tilted your head to the side and watched him flip through it. “Is that like…against some kinda chef code or something.”

“Chef code?” Carmy raised an eyebrow “Like scouts honor?”

You shrugged “I dunno. Just you look confused by the prospect of a signed book.”

“No…it’s just…I can pay for it” Carmy started looking around in his wallet and you raised your eyebrows

“Don’t worry about it”

“Are you sure? It’s signed. This is like having a…book signed by…”

“By him?” You tapped the cover.

“By like…Tolkien or something” Carmy continued “Shit analogy I know.”

“No I get it. He’s like some type of chef Tolkien”

“Yeah.” Carmy nodded

“So he’s good?”

“He’s one of the best. This is the nicest thing anyone’s ever done for me. You know he never signs right? I think he’s uh… like a recluse?” Carmy held up a hand“Hold on okay? I’ll be right back”

Right back was twenty minutes later. He entered holding out a plastic carton

“It’s the… I brought you some?” He ran his hand through his hair wondering if it was weird. “It’s not how I’d usually plate it.”

“I know. Thank you” you said and he noticed your slow reassuring tone and in his mind he heard Richie again, berating him for not asking you out

“Uh next time…How about I don’t bring you food. How about I take you out. Properly.”

“I think I’d like that”

[tinylilacbun]

Deadpool with a baby regressor that he met in Deadpool two after he was brought to the mansion. Regressor was saved by colossus and warhead from the people that experimented in Wade so originally colossus took care of her while little but never fully trusted him like she does with Deadpool.

l i t t l e s h a d o w ‎𓈒 ˖ ࣪ 𝜗𝜚

Wade has been at the mansion for a few days now, being a trainee for the X-Men has its perks but also means following those idiotic rules. It is what it is.

What he notices is that since his arrival he feels someone following around and watching him, getting a few glances at you before you disappear again.

One day his curiosity gets the best of him and he decides to ask Colossus about you, finding him eating cereal in the kitchen. "You know, either I'm starting to go insane or someone is following me." Wade starts instantly in a whisper, looking over his shoulder paranoid.

"Wade, it's too early for this-"

"No, I'm telling you- there!" Wade points at the doorway, a quiet giggle being heard before you bolt again.

"Oh. That's Y/n. We rescued her a few years ago from the lab you were at too. I'm warning you this once, watch yourself around her, she's a regressor." Colossus warns him, pointing a finger at him.

"Sorry, a what?"

"A regressor, it means she reverts to that mind of a child to deal with her trauma. She's one of the younger ones and regresses mostly to an toddler or baby headspace." He explains. "I promise you, if I hear one word from her that you made fun of her I'll personally-"

"Chill out, who am I to judge someone for the way they cope." Wade puts his hands up to calm him down. "What uh- what's the reason she does that? Hey, don't look at me like that I did listen this time but- y'know what I mean."

"She went exactly what you went through, but she was only 18 years old at that time."

Wade only nods, staying quiet for the first time in his life as he glances towards the doorway again.

Later that day he found himself walking around the mansion, accidentally breaking two or three things during his snooping when he passes a door that has colorful bold letters on it that spells your name.

He slowly pushes it open a bit, taking a peek inside and his eyes almost pop out of his head while taking in your room.

It is big, and looks like a daycare, with the walls painted a pastel pink and some cloud designs, a big rainbow carpet in the center, the canopy bed that could at least fit 5 people standing off to the side, and not to mention all different toys or activity possibilities.

You're currently laying on your stomach on the carpet as you color little doodles on a blank sheet with your crayons sprawled around you.

"Damn, it looks like a toy store threw up in here." He blurts out before he could stop himself.

You squeak in surprise, scrambling off the floor to climb onto your bed, hiding under the bedsheets.

Wade chuckles as he takes a few more steps into the room, his legs automatically taking him towards where you're hiding, the little giggles you let out not going unnoticed by him.

As he stands at the side of your bed he reaches out to pinch one of your toes that's peeking out from under the blanket, smiling when you quickly pull it into safety.

"Heard you're the baby of the X-Men." He says, refraining himself from laughing when you instantly push the blanket of you with an offended expression.

"You baby!" You stick your tongue out at him, crossing your arms.

"Oh, I can scream like one for sure." He huffs, smiling at the way you cover your mouth to stifle a laugh. "How old are you? I mean- like, right now in there." He asks, tapping your forehead.

You think for a moment, holding up one finger, shaking your head and changing it to two instead.

"Then you are a baby, a pretty cute one and with powers, that's kinda cool. Sweet yet deadly." He says and your face lights up at that.

Ever since that, Wade came to your room more often, finding the way you go through the world with such innocence despite what happened to you intriguing, and oddly comforting.

He likes the fact that he can rant whatever he wants while you just stare at him with big eyes, sucking up everything he says like a sponge, giggling sweetly every now and then or adding your adorable gibberish to which he absolutely agrees.

The others in the Mansion are shocked, to say the least, because usually you're in your room or don't have the courage to talk with anyone other besides Colossus, so the fact you're spending so much time with Wade of all people is something no one saw coming.

Colossus was wary at first, for obvious reasons, but he can see how much Wade changed you in the few weeks he's been here now, coming a little out of your shell and not hiding away as much as you used to, both of you quickly bonding over the fact you went to the same hellhole in the past.

Needless to say, you're not the X-Men's baby anymore, you're Deadpool's little peanut, and you're the happiest you've ever been since your rescue.

[nesepte]

Hundred Steps | Jaehyun — Preview | Read full fic here

Pairing: Jaehyun x fem! reader

Genre: soft jaehyun, mild angst, fluff (sort of – he is cute in this), cozy, unsaid words, music(al), enemies (one-sided) to lovers, rich jaehyun, but very humble jaehyun, acts of service love language jaehyun, small town, summer, small shop owner reader - vinyl record store, coming of age (?) Word Count (Preview): 1.1k words

A/n: It’s Jaehyun's birthday month so I thought of posting this on tumblr! The whole fic will be published on his birthday. Consider it my gift to you all here xD

If anyone wants to be added to the taglist for this – leave a comment, or a message, or anything you want.

The air was warm against your cheek. The summer had ended but the heat lingered like a stubborn heart refusing to see reason. In front of you beyond the wrought iron gates, stretched the steps to your new life but you stood frozen in place.

Mind can be so fickle, and this restless heart even more so. You had waited your entire life to leave your hometown and move to the city. You had dreamed of this college every night and here it was, ready to welcome you.

But you turned your gaze behind— the city quiet from this height. Beyond the mountains in the distance, amidst the swirling roads that led to nowhere, your eyes searched for him.

Jaehyun…

It was two weeks after your high school graduation. You were working late in your father’s store for vinyl records. Just a few minutes before closing time you heard the ding of the tiny bell fixed atop the door. He stumbled in, trying to frantically shut his umbrella which was dripping onto the carpeted floor. His brown pants were soaked at the bottom and his white shirt was wrinkled at the joints.

‘That’s alright,’ you said and he looked up. Despite the umbrella, his hair was slightly damp and the tip of his nose was red. ‘We are closing soon,’ you told him. ‘If you want to browse, I suggest you come back tomorrow morning.’

His curious eyes darted from you to the aisle behind him. ‘Where is...?’

‘Are you looking for my dad?’ you asked, trying to keep your tone professional. ‘He fractured his leg. I’ll be taking care of the shop in his absence.’

He finally managed to close his umbrella and left it by the window.

‘Right,’ he said, walking into the glow of the dim lamp hanging from the ceiling above the counter. This close, you noticed that his cheeks were red too but it wasn’t particularly cold out that night.

‘I am sorry to hear that,’ he said, ‘but by any chance did he mention any Beatles record on hold?’

‘The Beatles…’ you mumbled to yourself and ducked behind the counter to check the cabinets. At the very top, wrapped neatly in a clear film was the record and stuck to it was a post-it that had the word paid written in block letters and a name beside it.

‘Jung…’ you whispered, rising back to your feet to find the light, ‘…Jaehyun.’

It took you a moment to place the name in your head, and when you did, you blurted out, ‘It’s you!’ You looked up at him. ‘You are Jung Jaehyun?!’

Your raised voice had startled him but he replied as even as before, pressing his lips together. ‘That’s correct,’ he said.

‘Get out,’ you gritted out.

‘W-What?’

His blank, ignorant eyes angered you even more.

‘Do you have any idea what you put my father through?’ you yelled, your voice echoing through the empty shop. ‘You have been making these insane demands for those godforsaken rare records ever since you stepped foot into our store!’

You could feel your face heating up, your heart pulsating inside your throat. It was a bad look— shouting at a customer, but you could not stop the words from flowing out.

‘Do you know how difficult it is for my father to find them?! It’s because of you that he had an accident and fractured his leg. He was out in the rain to get your stupid record!’

‘I…’ He stared at you, mouth agape and his face drained of colour. He had shrunk under your gaze somehow. ‘I… I had no idea.’

‘Of course, you didn’t!’ you spat back, the thin record shaking between your trembling fingers. ‘All you rich kids care about is your own convenience!’

‘That’s a harsh judgement to make,’ he returned, though not unkindly.

‘Harsh?’ You let out a mirthless laugh. You could not believe your own anger. The bulb over the counter flickered like a dull firework as the record player in the corner switched to the next song.

‘I’ll tell you what’s harsh. All his life, my father has worked tirelessly in this shop to raise me alone and I have done nothing but kept my nose buried in books so I could get into the best university in Seoul.’

You sighed, pressing your palm to your forehead to control the wretched tears that were pricking the corner of your eyes.

‘This was my last summer before college. My last chance to taste freedom and it’s ruined because of you! I am stuck in this shop, working all day. The boxes are heavy, the shelves are high. I don’t know any of the customers and all they really do is ask about my dad. I haven’t even eaten all day but I can’t complain to anyone without looking like an ungrateful brat!’

There was more you wanted to say but you had no breath left in you. Besides, you had embarrassed yourself enough and you couldn’t risk crying in front of him.

‘Just take this and leave.’ You held out the record to him.

His hand reached out immediately but stopped just centimetres from the edge.

‘Take it,’ you repeated, hiding the hitch in your voice. You did not rush his hesitation— there was no other customer in the shop waiting anyway. At last, when he closed his fingers over the record, you let the rest of your anger flow out of you with it.

‘What?’ you asked. He was still standing at the counter, staring at you. Maybe you had been too harsh but your anger didn’t allow any sympathy.

‘I can pay the hospital bill,’ he mumbled, clutching the record tightly in his hands.

‘There is no need,’ you replied. You could not let your pride take another hit after making a complete fool out of yourself in front of a complete stranger. ‘Just… don’t come back here again.’

You regretted saying it the moment the words left your lips.

When you had first learned of Jaehyun through your father, you had imagined a stoic, old man in his 50s, dressed in an unnecessarily expensive suit with a cigar in his hand and a flashy gold chain around his neck. He definitely seemed the kind with his incessant demands for particularly hard-to-find, expensive records. He liked nothing in the shop.

Pretentious bastard, you had called him.

But standing in front of you was a boy, who didn’t look much older than you. He was careful with the record while stowing it away in his bag, holding it delicately by the edges. Despite your outburst, there was a twinkle in his eyes, one that you recognized all too well— your father had it too whenever he got his hands on a new record.

In the wake of your receding anger, you saw clearly how frightened you had made him but he did not protest again. Without another word, he left, stopping only for a moment at the door but he did not speak whatever it was he wanted to say.

However, that was not the end. He came back— sooner than you had expected.

[lokissceptres]

Collared | Xavier x Neutral!Reader | 18+

inspired by that one art ref people keep using teehee, the new v-day banner inspired me to actually finish this

warnings: 18+, collar, leash, choking, dom reader? soft dom, possessive xavi, POSSESIVE reader, mating press (idk how we ended up here.)

----

"Since you want everyone to know that I'm spoken for... I have a gift for you" you say softly, reaching behind you to pick up the dark giftbox behind you. Xavier, who stood a few feet away from you tilted his head and hummed, confused, but intruiged.

“How about this collar to show everyone you’re mine hmm?” you say, holding out a dark blue Xavier sized collar. You had it custom made for him, embezzled with moon and star shaped yellow stones, a star name-tag that had ‘Xavier’ engraved into it.

Xavier stilled, slightly flushed at the idea that you would collar him, but another side of him was almost elated that you’d claim him so publicly. “A collar?” he breathed, still hesitant to take it.

Wordlessly, you retracted your outstretched arm, holding it firmly in two hands, admiring how the details glistened under the lights. Xavier’s eyebrows furrowed, reminded of your nosy neighbour who was so insistent on befriending you. If he saw you two together, with the collar on, maybe he’d understand that you were his. You didn’t need any new friends. You had him.

He stepped forward on the carpeted floor of your room and took the collar from your hands. “Help me put it on?” He said, leaning his head towards you. After some fiddling you fit it round his neck, being careful not to choke him. You pull away, delighted in your work, hands on your hips, smirking slightly. It really did suit him.

“Proud of yourself?” he whispered closing the gap between you two again. There was something exciting about being so obviously claimed by you, and made even better by your excitement about it.

“Hmm... Almost” you replied. Xavier stood confused. Almost? he thought, not noticing you reach beside you and grab something. He only noticed when you had one side of it hooked to the silver hoop at the front of his collar. A leash. A silver chain with a navy handle just like the collar, adorned with more of those cute yellow star gems. You tugged on the leash, jerking him forward, using your other hand to hold his chin up directly infront of your face.

"Now I'm proud of myself" you say happily, admiring how natural he looks leashed. Xavier's brows furrowed again, a complicated emotion washing over his features. Before he had the chance to say anything you pulled on his leash again, forcing your lips to touch. Xavier moaned this time, pushing himself further into you. The feeling of the collar constricting his neck felt better than he would've ever thought. He'd be lying if he said the thought of you doing something like this to claim him had never crossed his mind. Kissing you feverently, he pushed his already rock hard erection into you, forcing your knees to buckle and landing you on the counter where the giftbox had been. Pulling his leash even tigher, which earned you a whine from him, you used your free hand to outline the bulge now grinding against you.

His movements faultered with the contact and you quickly used this to turn yourself around, leash still tightly in hand, so Xavier was now pushing up against your ass, leash so tight that his head was by yours. You pushed yourself against him, almost commanding him to hurry up. He whimpered again, quickly removing your lower clothing, too impatient and flustered to bother with the rest. Freeing himself from his sweats he ground his bare cock against you before pushing himself in swiftly, hissing into your ear. He didn't move at first, letting you become adjusted to him, and also because he was so turned on that he was already so so sensitive. However, before he was ready you yanked on his collar again, forcing him to push himself even deeper into you. He let out a string of curses cushioned with a whine but didn't hesitate to start pistoning himself deeply and slowly. It was almost a painful pace. His hands fixating on your hips to pull you onto his cock as he pushed into your deepest points.

Seeing you, head lulled, leash in hand and still occassionally tugging on it to command him, unlocked something in him and he began moving with alarming pace. His strokes not getting any shallower, relentlessly pounding into you. You both slowly devolved into whimpering, moaning messes, neither ready to give into another. Somewhere along the lines, he'd flipped you onto your back again. Hands still gripped firmly onto your hips, pushing himself deeper and deeper into you.

"I dont need this collar to show everyone I'm yours" he growled into your ear, still continuing with unwavering pace.

"Maybe so.. but you still like it though" you managed to get out between gasps. He hummed in response, there was no denying it. Leash still in hand you wrapped yourself around him, hands around his neck, legs around his hips, locking him in place. "If you do that, I can't-" he whined. His thrusts began to faulter, losing their rythm, his moans turning more into frenzied whimpers. Your legs tightened around him as you came, the action sending him over the edge simulatenously with a loud gasp. He kept slowly bucking into you, helping you both ride out your orgasms. Your grip had competely softened on the leash by now. With his remaining strength, he scooped you up and pulled you onto the sofa with him.

"I don't know if I can get away with wearing this with my uniform..." he said softly.

"You don't seriously have to wear it out" you started, "We can just keep it for fun"

Xavier pouted at this. "Maybe I want to wear it."

"What happened to not needing the collar to show you're mine huh?" You couldn't help but chuckle at his pouty expression as you pulled him in for soft kiss.

[slut4sugu]

Dear diary, my boyfriend is such a hot meanie!

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡ I swear it's like teasing me is just second nature! Everything he does is like a planned out attack just to get me to fold. I hate to say I'm so weak for him..

including: non!mc reader, bimbo!black reader, Sylus being a tease, fingering through clothes, didn’t rlly proof read srry lol ( I’m tired from watching Hamilton for the 10th time)

MDNI!!

"Babyyy cmon, you've been reading that book for hours!" You whined, dramatically letting your head fall on sylus's shoulder, purposefully tucking yourself into his side. Pink frenchies scratching his bicep slightly as you wrapped an arm around his, your boobs pressing up against it deliciously. The pink frills & sexy lace of your bra becoming visible from your low tank top. The same bra you had made the mistake of teasing sylus with on a Sunday night, leaving you 30 minutes late in the morning for work.

Taking note of your bratty efforts, sylus merely lets out an airy chuckle, "oh now you want my attention? didn't seem that way when you were too occupied with shopping 3 hours ago." Your bottom gloss coated lip jutted out as you looked up at him with your pleading chestnut eyes. "Cmonnn sy, please you know I wanted those heels for months! I’m sorryy. I miss you." Your voice saccharinely sweet as sylus's gaze finally tore away from his book and captured yours.

Suddenly your whines and complaints fell short on your tongue, his gaze piercingly devilish as the air between you two grew laced with desire. Your heartbeat quickened as he leaned down, his breath a warm whisper against your ear, tracing a path down your neck that sent shivers dancing across your brown skin.

"Then sit and wait," he murmured, his voice low and husky, the words brushing against your ear like a caress. A thrill, sharp and sweet, shot through you. He paused, his gaze meeting yours, a hint of playful challenge in his eyes. "Unless," he continued, his voice dropping even lower, "my love needs to be reminded on what happens to whiny girls who can’t wait their turn.”

Your thighs instinctively pressed together, he knew what he was doing to you! Okay, yes you had neglected Sylus briefly for some cute pink platform heels but they were limited edition! Though now, under his heavy gaze you were surely paying the price. In doing the one thing he know you can't stand. Waiting.

Your panties grew more soaked with your slick as minutes ticked by, the occasional rub of his hand on your thigh trailing too high up would leave you biting your lip trying to busy yourself on your phone. It seemingly worked for ten minutes, until his fingers pushed your loose shorts to the side and began to rub up and down your slit. Causing your phone to nearly fall on the fuzzy carpet below as you quietly whimpered.

Meanie

The sudden slow rubbing sensation on your clothed cunt was more than unfair. especially since Sylus knew what a slut you were for his hands on you. Making out with his fingers stuffed in your cunny, eating you out and scissoring them into your hole..it was so hot.

It was even hotter knowing that he was not even sparring you a glance as his fingers slowly began to work you up. His hand sliding up to your clit sneakily whilst you mindlessly whimpered and moaned. Sylus’s hungry gaze fixated on your lewd state, eyes squeezed shut, mouth open as spews of pleases and baby’s fell past your lips. The strap of your tank top falling off your shoulder..you looked divine.

“Still have some complaints sweetie?” You shook your head, dropping your phone somewhere on the leather couch as you bucked and shivered into his hand. “That’s what I thought.”

[bratdotcom]

Oh, Pretty Boy

( Vendetta!Leon Kennedy x GN!reader || sitting on a staircase your husband ♡ angst with comfort )

Oh, if Leon could, he would keep you close to his heart, always. He already keeps you in his wallet. How close could he get?

That's where you should be, with him, he thought. You made him feel young again, like he had some sort of control in his life.

A security blanket, open and loving. Always waiting for him to come home, excitedly embracing him like you haven't seen him in years. Even if it's only been hours- can't help but worry for an old man like him, huh? Poor baby.

And there he finds himself, draped over your shoulder by the arm. You sit together with him on the carpeted stairs of your shared home.

“Pretty boy…” his blues focus on you as you speak, his eyes droopy. Tired. A bit unhappy with how lonely he's left you since he came back.

All Leon wanted now was you.

To be the object of your affection, to have his company wanted, needed because he was himself. For him. Was he selfish for wanting to be loved by you? All he wanted was to be the object of your love.

All Leon needed was you to keep him grounded. To be loved by you meant that he at least did something right in his life, even if it wasn't what he wanted it to be.

In your hands was a small locket. An intricate, silver locket.

You smile as you present it to Leon, “I uh..got this for you, hon.” The way you hesitate to present the locket to him was cute, Leon thought. A sweet thing like you shy around him? What an honor. You gently shove it towards Leon. He looks down at the locket, no words leaving his lips for a solid moment.

“You…you got this for me?” He asks if it wasn't already obvious enough. That you did, in fact, get it for him. It was right in front of him. You eagerly nod your head, your smile widening.

He blinks as he stares down. You cared enough to get him a locket? Just for him?

He blinks more, his blues wash over with tears. He was crying? Over some locket? Leon sniffles, corners of his eyes folding into creased lines as he narrows them to hide his tears.

“Aww sweetie..” his gruff voice softens, his bleary eyes drop down to look at the locket again.

And, his blues fill with tears again. The more he thought about it, the more he realized you cared for him.

It was a bit foreign to him, this feeling. Made him feel fuzzy. Like TV static. He couldn't really explain it.

He gently holds the locket, thumbing it open with his hand.

The locket clicks open, and inside was a photo of you. All smiley and sweet, just how Leon liked seeing you. If you were happy, Leon was, too. If you were mad, he'd be mad with you.

Although you couldn't see it, his heart was beating in his chest like a metronome back and forth. His heart in his ribcage was he too old to say he could feel it in his bones? Oh, Leon didn't want to dwell on that now. He was already beginning to feel nostalgic about what was happening right now, and it wasn't even over. Leon was in the moment.

In the moment with you.

This wasn't like the movies. He had to remind himself. There wasn't an end credit scene.

Well, at least not yet.

“Oh..” He mouths, blinking. His lash line fills with tears again. The harsh lines in the corners of his eyes soften as he looks at the picture of you inside the locket. “What are you, a mind reader?” He chuckles softly, running his thumb along the surface of the photo you somehow stuffed into such a small thing. Leon could never.

You don't answer his quip. Instead, you brush away the hair framing his face. “Are you…are you crying?” You ask softly. He looks toward you before quickly looking away. “N-no, no, I'm not crying. Shit…” He murmurs the last part under his breath. You caught him. You did it. You caught Leon crying. It was obvious. You've seen him cry before. You could tell by his slight stammer, his avoidant gaze, that he was going to cry.

And yet Leon acted like his heart was going to explode into pieces if he did cry. Like it was wrong to cry. It wasn't wrong. But to Leon, it felt wrong to cry in front of a sweet thing like you. He didn't like crying at all. He absolutely despised the stammer he had whenever he teared up. Lower lip shaking, his blues clouding up in warm tears.

“I'm not crying.” He denies, though it was obvious that he was. “But you are crying,” you murmur softly, pushing his hair behind his ear. You just had to see his face.

He tries to push down your worries by chuckling, though it came out more shaky than he wanted it to be. “You're crying, hon.” You repeat, wrapping your arms around him. “It's okay.”

Leon sighs shakily, leaning into your embrace. His posture softens, drooping down against yours. “What did I do to deserve you, sweet thing?” He murmurs onto the crown of your head, his eyes wander from your face, down to the locket again.

“You did the right thing, hon. C'mon..don't be like that.” You reply, drawing out your words like soft lines in the air. Like nostalgic cords of a song Leon couldn't remember the verses to.

Hearing you say that, hearing it come from your lips makes the tears clouding his vision finally fall. “Don't…don't be like that..” Leon replies in a low whisper.

He embraces you, taking in your warmth. Soaking it in as best as he could through his leather jacket.

[pinkberrytea]

Kinky NSFW Alphabet: Mavka & Astarion

Eeee ty ty for the tag @nyx-knox! 🙌❣️✨ This made me realize I rarely ever talk about Mav and Astarion as a couple, I should do that more often 😭

Kinky NSFW Alphabet

Keeping it under the cut since this is a spicy one, so tagging folks first ✨ @zekeen, @bananasfosterparent, @honeybee-bard, @kalmiaphlox, @inkymoonbunny, @judasiskariot and @preciouslittle-bhaalbabe!

A = Aftercare (What they’re like after sex)

Mav is cuddly. She will immediately snuggle up to his chest and wrap her tail around his leg, almost as if seeking reassurance that she’s been good, that he won’t leave her. Astarion typically isn’t, but with her, it’s different—while he finds it strange, having someone else crave affection from him so badly (beyond just sex, no less), indulging her makes him feel almost powerful, like he is needed, wanted, so he will press his lips to her forehead and run his fingers through her hair until she falls asleep, and in the morning, clean her up if they’ve made too bad of a mess.

B = Body part (Their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

I’m an Astarion is an ass man truther, so he definitely has a thing for hers. Also her tail—he thinks it’s adorable how she will unconsciously perk it up whenever he's around, like a good little pup. As for Mav, she loves his hair, how soft and fluffy it is, but it’s his lips and fangs that always get her weak in the knees, especially when he flashes her that wicked smile of his.

C = Cum (Where does your muse prefer to cum/have someone cum?)

Inside, for both. Astarion loves marking her as his, stuffing her full and letting her fluttering walls milk him to the last drop. Mav, too, yearns to be filled with him and his seed, as only then can she truly feel whole, safe, so he will usually only pull out come morning.

D = Dirty secret (Pretty self explanatory: a dirty secret of theirs)

Astarion will sometimes steal Mav’s clothing items—often her underwear, but anything with her blood on it will do—so he can jerk off to them later. She’s aware of this, and doesn’t mind at all, though he’s still under the impression she doesn’t know.

E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)

Both are very similar in that they do have experience, only this is their first time with a partner they love and who loves them back. For Mav specifically, she had never been with another fully consensually before Astarion. Laying with someone who is desperate to pleasure them back is a new and scary thing for both, and it can be in equal measure healing and even more damaging, at times. But they're working through it, together.

F = Favorite position (This goes without saying)

Missionary, for both. Feeling him pin her down under his body weight and shield her from the world around them is comforting for Mav. She craves the intimacy of it, and Astarion is more than happy to be entrusted with that control, to look into her eyes as they kiss and take in her image as she comes for him, cheeks flushed and his name on her lips.

G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment? Are they humorous? etc.)

They aren't exactly goofy, but Astarion does tease Mav a lot. He loves watching her writhe and squirm, whine, moan, make all the cute noises, so edging and overstimulation are very typical for them.

H = Hair (How well groomed are they? Does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Neither have body hair, Astarion in virtue of being an elf, and in Mav’s case, likely due to her origins—or maybe she's just like that.

I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment? The romantic aspect)

Mav tends to get emotional, and it's not uncommon for her to cry during sex. Astarion teases her about a lot of things, but not about this, since any sexual act is usually just as emotionally charged for him. Drying her tears is, in a way, like drying his own. How intense it gets varies a lot though, but even during a lighthearted quickie they both become enraptured in their own little world, where there's just the two of them, and nothing can hurt neither him nor her ever again.

J = Jack off (Masturbation headcanon)

During the events of the game, starting in Act 2 while they're still abstaining, Astarion makes a habit of jerking off every night while feeding on Mav. Sometimes she's awake for it, sometimes she isn't, but either way she doesn't mind. Mav rarely ever touches herself if he's not present, since Astarion is very adamant about wanting to participate, and he gets pouty whenever she comes without him being there to witness, which he's able to tell by her scent.

K = Kink (One or more of their kinks)

Oh, Astarion 100% has a choking kink—he takes great pleasure in squeezing Mav's neck and watching her gag, even better if she is tied up or blindfolded. Similarly, she loves surrendering control over her body to him. Needless to say, both also have a bloodplay kink, so him biting her is almost a given whenever they do anything sexual.

L = Location (Favorite places to do the do)

Neither have much of a preference, but Mav does enjoy curling up anywhere with his scent, especially if she knows he won't be there when she wakes up—so basically, their own bed, or during the events of the game, his tent.

M = Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going?)

For Astarion, there is no greater turn-on than seeing Mav act all shy and bashful, ears and cheeks glowing a bright red and sweet little whines falling from her lips. He will immediately pounce and ravage her whenever he works her up to that point—which he can very easily do by either teasing or praising her, or maybe a mix of both. Also, again, drinking from her will inevitably cause him to pop a boner.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

They aren’t necessarily averse to it, but neither are very keen on her topping. Sometimes if feeling a little more adventurous they may decide to switch things up a bit, and Astarion does enjoy seeing Mav struggle to take the lead (especially if she’s riding him, with the added bonus that he gets to watch her tits bounce and her body get all sweaty and flushed), but even then, nothing that involves him getting restrained (much less humiliated) in any way. Also, bringing other people into their intimacy is something they're similarly not very enthusiastic about, Astarion in particular since he’s very possessive of her.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

They both have a preference for giving—Astarion because he thinks it’s adorable how she will squirm and moan with each flick of his tongue, and also because he loves tasting her, whereas Mav finds nothing more pleasurable than making him feel good. Skill-level wise, Astarion’s is higher due to him having hundreds of years of experience, although Mav’s clumsiness is both endearing and arousing for him, especially since she’s always so eager.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Astarion tends to like it rough, Mav prefers a more sensual pace, so they try to meet each other halfway, starting slow and intentional and then becoming more animalistic towards the end. Although this of course varies according to context—a quickie will usually be rough all the way, and more emotional sex, gentler and softer.

Q = Quickie (Their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

They have quickies fairly often just because Astarion has such a high sex drive and there’s only so many hours in a day, but both prefer taking their time with it if possible, so they may enjoy exploring each other’s body to the fullest.

R = Risk (Are they game to experiment? Do they take risks? etc.)

Both are fairly adventurous, especially Astarion. While Mav won’t typically make suggestions, she is always willing to try whenever he proposes something new. He is having fun exploring his newfound sexual freedom, focusing on his own pleasure instead of his partner’s, and she has no qualms whatsoever about not always being his priority in bed.

S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go for? How long do they last?)

Astarion’s is much, much higher, but Mav does her best to keep up with him (especially since after a particularly rough session she knows that once they’re finished he will cradle her in his arms, stroke her hair and call her a good girl—no better motivation than that!). Mav also doesn’t last very long, at all, which he always teases her about.

T = Toys (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)

Other than restraints and blindfolds, not really.

U = Unfair (How much they like to tease)

Astarion is a relentless tease, and Mav, his helpless victim. Squeezing her bum or stroking her cunt in public, whispering obscenities in her ears, pushing his hips against her own to let her feel his hardness, pointing out how wet she already is for him; all highly effective methods he will shamelessly use to make her putty in his hands.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Astarion isn’t very loud, especially once he stops performing during sex. That’s not to say he doesn’t moan, but it’s typically low grunts that will slip from his pretty lips with every thrust, only really audible when he has his mouth close to her ears. Mav, on the other hand, does make quite a bit of noise, which he will enthusiastically coax out of her by suddenly pinching a nipple or playing with her clit while she’s still recovering from an orgasm.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

Pulling Mav to him by the tail is endlessly amusing to Astarion because the base of it is highly sensitive and vascularized, so nine times out of ten, she will let out the cutest yelp and become wet for him on the spot. He does this way too often, and it always works like a charm.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

We're all aware our boy is well endowed and has pecs for days, so honestly, good for Mav—although she herself was created specifically to be sexually enticing, if her round bum and perky tits are anything to go by, so good for Astarion, too!

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Astarion's is again much higher than Mav's—he is the one who tends to initiate most sexual interactions, but she is always receptive to him, especially since he knows exactly what gets her going (usually a balanced mix of praise and teasing, as mentioned above).

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Mav will fall asleep almost instantly once they’re done—she’s not typically a fast sleeper, insomnia being usually preferable to the nightmares that plague her every night, but when in his arms, cock drunk and safe, she will allow herself the rest. Astarion also struggles to trance for similar reasons, but unlike her, he doesn’t need to, so instead he’ll just watch her, memorize every detail of her face, from the cute little freckles on her nose to the way her long lashes cast a shadow over her cheeks.