#and sorry that boy chews Way louder than I do

[wicchyy]

—0.5 flipped ; james potter

sum: you’ve been obsessed with James since you met him, but he doesn’t feel nearly the same. then, he’s flipped.

warnings: James throwing his breakfast in the trash

notes: this was inspired by the movie ‘flipped’. delulu girls win!!! sorry for being a bit too long, this is different from my usual works !

These are all the things people know about James Potter; he’s a skilled quidditch player, one of the smartest students in your grade, a lightweight, and he can manage his time well between practice, classes, and parties.

But those things, they’re just surface stuff. These are what you know about James Potter; he has the most beautiful brown curls, hazel eyes that change between brown and green depending on the sunlight, a delirious laughter, and the most flirty drunk you’ve ever known.

Sirius introduced you to James during your second year. And since the moment you saw him, robes askew, chocolate smeared all over his cheeks, and glasses slanted on his face— you’ve been in love with him since.

Maybe it was love at first sight, the plausible explanation. Or perhaps it was obsession. Either way, you haven’t paid attention to anyone other than James Potter himself.

“Hey, Siri. Hi, Remus. Have either of you seen James? I thought you lot finished practice minutes ago.”

Sirius nodded, chewing down the rest of his waffles before replying. “Mhm. Doing extra rounds, Prongs looks a bit stressed on the field today.”

“Perfect!” You clapped your hands together, “I’ll just bring some breakfast down for him.”

“Actually, Y/n! I don’t think you should—“ Remus interferes.

“Don’t worry, Remus. I’ll be sure to get two waffles. I know he gets hungry after practice.”

Remus tried to protest again, but Sirius waved him off with a look that said ‘what can we even do to prevent it?’

…

In the middle of December, snow covers the Hogwarts ground. You’re careful as you hold onto the napkin that holds James’ breakfast. The quidditch field isn’t far off the castle grounds, so you make haste of your movements and quickly head to the entrance of the Gryffindor locker rooms.

“James?” You shout, stepping inside until you see the one and only locker door open and the curly headed boy lying on the wooden bench in the middle of the room.

He immediately stands up, the voice all too familiar for him to not flinch. “Y/n?”

You appear in front of him with a wide smile, grinning happily as you set the breakfast in front of him on the bench. “Hi! You didn’t come for breakfast so I asked Siri where you where and he mentioned you’re practicing extra by yourself. So I figure you’d be—“

“Y/n!” James shouts louder.

“.. So I figured you’d be hungry.” You finished, your voice lower this time like you’d been caught red handed at something.

“Thanks. But no thanks.” He smiles forcefully. He grabs at the napkins holding the waffles and two pieces of strawberry, crumpling it in his hands and aiming it for the big black bin at the corner of the room.

Of course it lands perfectly inside, and he huffs an angry breath as he takes in your flushed, ashamed look.

“Look, just like you noticed, I wasn’t at breakfast. Because I don’t want breakfast. I’m not in the mood, yeah, Y/l/n? And I don’t need you trailing after me like a lost fucking puppy you want to feed breakfast. I’m not your anything, understand?”

Harsh. His words struck you in the gut. Maybe you should’ve listened to Remus earlier. James had never been practicing late unless he was ordered to. And you should’ve remembered it was winter as well. No one would willingly practice more quidditch than required in the harsh December winds.

“I— I’m sorry.” Your face flushed. You had to admit, you’d never been so embarrassed quite like this moment before. “I thought it’d be a nice thing.”

James stood up, picking up his towel, a spare shirt, and his knit beanie and stuck it in his locker before banging it roughly.

“If I haven’t made myself clear all these years, Y/n, let me make it clearer. I’m not interested.” He scoffed. “And I won’t be fucking interested because you bought me breakfast.”

You were left standing in embarrassment. Your eye making contact just a second with James, then to the bin where the breakfast you had bought for him was thrown in.

“Just back off, Y/n. I mean in.”

…

James had been feeling pretty guilty for the whole week. Yes, he was annoyed by you at the moment and yes, he’s always been annoyed by you. But all the times he’s ever been annoyed with you, none of those times has he said something like that. And after careful realisation, he’s understood that his words may have hurt you a tad bit.

He wants to apologize, but he doesn’t know how. Especially not to you. So he doesn’t. James doesn’t apologize for weeks, and then a month, and then he finally comes to terms with the fact that his brain somehow misses your annoying face, your annoying voice, and your annoying personality always annoying him.

“I have a question.” James interrupted his friends who were mountain deep in their homework.

“Hm.” Sirius shot lowly while he closed his subject book, “Go on. Think I’m done for the day.”

Remus shot his eyes at the interaction between his friends, leaning back on his seat to pay attention to James.

“So, you lot know about the incident a month ago, yeah?”

Sirius scoffed, “Mate, the bin waffle? Course we know!”

“Not really something to brag about, Prongs.” Remus chimed in.

“Look, I know. I’ve done some thinking and—“

“You wanna apologize to her?”

James stayed silent, “Well, I—“

Remus shot his friend a look of pity, “Honestly, you should’ve done it months ago. We know you may not like her, but she’s still mine and Pads’ close friend. And yes, she’s done so many things to annoy you but ..”

Sirius continued, “But it was a really shit thing to say. And you were fucking rude! I mean honestly, Prongs! Throwing out the waffles? Not necessary!”

“I know, I know. I’ve been feeling pretty bad about it recently and I want to apologize, really. But I dunno— things are just confusing.”

“How is it confusing? You just need to walk over to her and apologize.” Remus shrugs.

“That’s not it, Moony. It’s more confusing, like— I don’t even know how to explain it, y’know. Like, I used to be so fucking annoyed and pissed when she’s around. But now, it’s like somethings missing. Something like .. her.”

Sirius scoffs, “Shut the fuck up!”

James looks confused, “What—?”

“Shut up!”

“Literally not saying a word.”

Sirius stands up, “James Potter!” his hands banging on the table until the librarian is ordering him to calm down.

Remus looks up at him and pulls Sirius’ hand to sit back down at his chair. “Maybe you should tell him quietly.”

“I love how much you don’t notice, mate. You’ve got a crush on her, Prongs!”

James scoffed, his arms immediately crossing. “No I don’t.”

“Yes, you very much do.” Remus replied.

Sirius smiles, “You may not have liked her when she was bothering you, but you sure are thinking of her when she’s gone.”

“That’s nothing. It’s just cause I feel bad.”

“No you don’t!”

“I actually do, Pads. That’s why I’m bringing this up.”

Sirius scoffs with a wide smile, “No you’re bringing this up because you need to talk about it.”

“Well— yes. Because I need advice on how to apologize.”

“No, mate. Prongs, you’ve totally got a crush on her!”

“I don’t!”

“You’re so stubborn, mate. You know that saying ‘you lose them and then you know’? Thats you!”

Remus interjects, “Actually, the saying is ‘you don’t realize what you’ve got till it’s gone’. But yes, I do think it resembles this situation.”

“It doesn’t resemble anything. Besides, if she is here right now I’m positive I’d be annoyed just the same. I just feel bad for the .. waffle incident.”

“Wrong. Don’t believe it.”

Sirius looks across the table where James is and gives him a dumbfounded look. “Alright, fine. If you really think that, then what d’you say to a bet, huh? We prove that you’ve got feelings for her and if we succeed you pay for all your drinks whenever we go out for a whole month.”

James rolls his eyes, “And how would you prove that? She’s not even talking to me.”

Remus shoots Sirius a coy smile, the gears in his head turning as he makes up a plan in his head. “Well we’d just apologize to her for you and ask her to hang out with us. Then we’ll see your reactions and … other things.”

“Perfect plan!” Sirius chimes excitedly.

“I don’t agree to all of this.”

“That’s cause you’re scared to show us you actually do have a crush on Y/n.”

“One, I don’t. And second, fine. I’ll agree. But if this doesn’t prove anything and I’m right all along that I do not have a crush on her, you both will be doing my Arithmancy for a month.”

“Really? Why’d you even take that elective?” Sirius scoffs.

James smirks and extends his hand for a shake, “Deal?”

Remus shakes James’ hand quickly as his boyfriend beside him makes a sound of protest. “Moony! It’s Arithmancy, I thought we’d just have a counter agreement.”

“Come on, Pads, I’ll be doing all the work anyways.”

…

You clutched your books tightly, the familiar weight providing little comfort as you walked the corridors of the castle. Resentment and annoyance simmered within you since the incident with James.

As Sirius and Remus approached you after class, your expression soured. "What do you two want now?"

Sirius cleared his throat, putting on a cheery facade. "Hey, Y/n! Prongs wanted us to extend his apologies again for the breakfast thing. He's really sorry, you know?"

Your eyes narrowed at Sirius. "Sorry? James is sorry for tossing away the breakfast I brought for him without a second thought?"

"Yeah, he's been beating himself up about it. Really wants to make it right," Remus chimed in, attempting to sound convincing.

Your frustration reached its peak. "Is he? It's easy to be sorry now, isn't it? But where was his remorse when he threw the waffles in the bin like it was nothing? Tell James I don't need his apologies.”

Sirius and Remus exchanged a quick glance. Remus spoke softly, "Y/n, we understand how you feel, but Prongs is really trying to make amends. It might help if you could give him a chance to apologize properly."

"Yeah," Sirius added, his tone earnest, "We all miss hanging out together, and Prongs, he genuinely wants to make things right. Look, we’re all hanging in the commons just after classes are done.”

You hesitated, torn between your anger and their earnest plea. After a moment of contemplation, you sighed. "Fine, I'll be there. But not because of James. I'm doing this because both of you are my friends. And I’ve missed hanging."

As you walked away, Sirius and Remus exchanged relieved smiles, hoping that this hangout might just make them win the bet.

…

i - reconciliation

You sat in one corner of the Gryffindor common room, a book in hand, although your mind was elsewhere. Sirius and Remus hovered nearby, trying to create a relaxed atmosphere, but the tension lingered like a thick fog in the room.

When James entered, your heart skipped a beat. His eyes fleetingly met yours before darting away, a visible unease surrounding him.

"Hey, Y/n!" Sirius exclaimed cheerfully, attempting to break the heavy atmosphere. "We’ve been thinking of names for Moony’s new owl!"

"Yeah .. definitely that," Remus added, striving to mask the tension in his voice.

James cautiously approached, his gaze finally meeting yours. "Y/n, can we talk?" His voice was quiet, carrying an earnest plea.

You hesitated momentarily, then nodded, reluctantly setting aside your book and following James to a quieter corner of the room.

"I'm sorry, Y/n," James began, his voice laced with genuine regret. "I was thoughtless and I hurt you. I don't expect forgiveness, but I want you to know I'm really sorry."

As James spoke, his eyes held a raw sincerity that tugged at your heartstrings. The hurt remained, but you found yourself softening, unable to resist the depth of emotion in his gaze. Your own feelings for him, buried deep within, began to stir, making forgiveness a more feasible option.

"You did hurt me, James," you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. "But..." You hesitated, your resolve faltering as emotions swirled within you. His eyes, filled with remorse, seemed to tug your emotions. "I appreciate the apology. And I... I forgive you."

Meanwhile, Sirius and Remus tried to lighten the mood by engaging everyone in different activities. Yet, in the corner where you and James stood, the emotions were palpable, the unspoken tension slowly dissolving with your admission.

Conversations flowed more easily throughout the evening, punctuated by shared smiles and lingering gazes between you and James.

Beneath the surface, an unspoken understanding seemed to grow between you and James, sparking a flicker of hope for reconciliation.

Remus and Sirius settled into a quiet couple, minding their own business. You took the moment to excuse yourself to avoid anymore awkwardness. You’ve never been in the situation without being so all up in James’ business. James watched you leave, a mix of relief and gratitude evident in his eyes.

…

ii - jealousy

“What do you guys think of Cassius Flintwood?” James broke the silence at his table. His friends looked up from their work, giving James a puzzled expression.

“Nothing. Other than he’s probably the saving grace of Ravenclaw’s abomination quidditch team.” Sirius shrugged.

“Yeah, that. And he tutors Marlene, oh and Y/n— wait, are you asking cause you’re seeing him tutoring Y/n?”

Sirius gasps, immediately turning around to see where James’ eyes are making intense eye contact to. “Prongs, you’re jealous. Christ, this is perfect! Might as well just go get drinks right now, cause we’ve won!”

James rolls his eyes, head making contact with the wooden table as he lays his head down. “Shut up, Pads. I’m not jealous, jus’ asking.”

“Mhm. Definitely.” Remus chuckles.

“I’m so confused with everything. I apologized to her, we’re good. Why’s she .. I dunno, distancing herself still?”

“You dimwit.” Sirius says with a hint of shock, his hand slapping the top of James’ head. “You have a big ego James Potter. D’you honestly think she’d just go back to obsessing over you?”

James lifts his head up and rolls his eyes “No, that’s not what I meant. Just—“

“Look, mate,” Remus interferes, “If you’re that bothered by her and Cassius just go over there and study with them. Sure he won’t mind.”

“What? I can’t do that.”

Sirius narrows his eyes, “So you’re admitting that it does bother you?”

“No! She’s just having a tutoring session.” A tutoring session that involves Cassius touching her arm and making her laugh. She’s probably not learning anything right now. James’ annoying head thinks.

“Then stop looking at them.” Sirius warns.

“Y’know what, I’m tired. Might just fit a nap in before my late classes.” He begins to stand and collect his things. Just before putting everything inside his satchel, an idea pops into mind.

James glances at the thick Potions book beside him along with other books stacked below it. He lays his hand flat on the wooden surface and gives it a small shove, making the stack of books clattering on the floor and making a loud echo throughout the library.

Sirius just scoffs at his friends’ action, meanwhile a smile plays at Remus’ lips, clearly understanding the dumb little trick that James has just performed.

In a second, your eyes landed on James for almost the tenth time. When you see him finally collecting all the books from the floor, you make eye contact. His face is red, a hint of embarrassment showing on his cheeks. A small smile twitches on your lips, trying not to let it show to James.

James kept a steady hand in the table and lifted himself up, quickly putting his books inside his satchel and making haste of his exit from the library.

“Think we’ve got this bet in the bag, Pads.” Remus says.

…

iii - realisation

The Quidditch pitch resonated with the energy of practice, but James's mind was elsewhere as he maneuvered through the air on his broom. Sirius watched from the sidelines, unable to ignore James's distracted flying.

"Oi, Prongs, you’re flying like you’ve got a Bludger lodged in your head. What’s going on?” Sirius remarked, concern etched into his tone.

James landed his broom, "Just not in the zone today, I guess," he muttered, trying to downplay his disarray.

Sirius crossed his arms, gaze unwavering. "It's about Y/n, isn't it?"

James faltered, caught off guard by Sirius' directness. "Maybe," he admitted, a tinge of regret lacing his words.

Sirius arched an eyebrow, probing gently. "You miss her, don't you?"

James sighed, the weight of his unresolved feelings palpable. "It's more than that, Sirius. I've been a complete prat to her all these years," he confessed, his voice tinged with remorse.

Sirius's expression softened, understanding dawning in his eyes. "You mean treating her like a pest?"

James nodded, guilt weighing heavily on him. "Exactly. I never gave her a chance and, Christ, I feel awful for it. She's been nothing but a good friend, maybe a tad obsessive but .. I've been too blind to see it."

“It’s fine, mate. Least you’ve figured it out now. Who knew the waffle incident would’ve caused this, huh?”

"I dunno though,” James admitted, a mix of regret and uncertainty clouding his thoughts. "It's like realizing something you should have known all along."

Sirius gave his friend a coy smile, "Give yourself time, mate. Just remember, she's not going anywhere. Maybe it's a good thing to figure it out now, yeah?"

James nodded, a mix of emotions swirling within him. With Sirius's encouragement, James readied himself to get back on his broom.

…

iv - confession

The first thing James saw when he entered the common room was you. Sat there in your too big sweater and a book huddled in your lap. His heart beats nervously as he walks closer to try and calm himself down.

“Y/n!" James greeted, trying to hide the hint of nerves in his voice.

You glanced up from your book, smiling warmly at his approach. "Hey.”

Taking a seat beside you, James fiddled with the sleeve of his robe, trying to find the right words. "I've been doing a lot of thinking lately. Reflecting, you know?" he started, eyes darting to meet yours.

You raised an eyebrow, curious about where this was going. "Reflecting about what?"

James let out a small chuckle, trying to lighten the mood. "Well, you see, I've had this knack for making a right mess of things. Especially when it comes to... certain people."

Your lips curved into a small smile, sensing the playful tone in his words. "Certain people?”

"Right, so I've been a bit dim, maybe blind even. Overlooked something that's been there all along."

"James Potter, are you about to confess your undying love for someone?"

James laughed, a touch of color rising to his cheeks. That laugh that you could get high on no matter the situation. Well, it's not quite as dramatic as that, but..." James took a breath, looking straight into your eyes. "Maybe I've been a bit of a fool. Y/n, you uh … , are more than just a friend to me. You're, uh, rather important."

Your smile widened, realizing the sincerity behind his playful demeanor. "Oh really? Important, am I?" You teased lightly.

He nodded, his smile widening. "Yeah, you are. I guess what I'm trying to say is... I rather like having you around, you know?"

Your smile softened, this was the moment you’ve dreamt for probably millions of times. Truthfully it wasn’t as dramatic as you’d expect. But having to see James in his awkwardness, words falling clumsily from his mouth and making eye contact with you, it was a moment you’d dream of. That was how much you were in love with the boy.

"As long as you mean it, Potter."

💌 thanks for reading lovie! support me by reblogging <3

[monimccoythings]

Cursed Cat! Alastor x Child!Reader (Platonic)

This fucker has consumed my entire mind. Everywhere I go, I see him. I need posters, keychains and a plushie of this entity of evil. Since the Sacabambapsis, I never laughed at anything as hard as I did with this little freak of nature (affectionate). Going to be a short one because I'm still laughing as I'm writing this.

This is not proof read, so sorry for any grammar and/or vocabulary mistakes.

All credit goes to @coma_0423 on twitter for simultaneously ruining and saving my life.

Tw: mentions of death

tags: @anonymousewrites, @nonetheartist, @littledolly2345, @sunnyx07, @ouroborostheunholy, @mo-0-o, @sydneyyyya @lbcreations-blog

Nobody really knows how he ended up as a cat. One day he just woke up like that.

The first time you see him your mind goes entirely blank. And then you laugh. Like, really loud. You don't remember the last time you laughed as hard as you were laughing now. You were rolling on the floor, tears running down your face and holding your tummy in pain.

You can see smoke coming out of his ears and static getting louder. But oh boy was it funny, he looks like he hasn't had a single thought in his entire life. He doesn't find it the slightest bit amusing, but you are truly laughing for the first time in years so he will let it slide.

He follows you around, being the protective cat-father he is. At some point your strides are too much for him to follow up with, so you have to carry him. And given your short stature he is just dangling in your arms with that stupid looking face, which, no matter how much you try to resist, makes you burst into laughing fits.

Won't allow any doors between you two. If you have to leave him out, he will serenade you with the song of his people until you let him in.

Can't stand seeing you spending time with anybody else, specially Lucifer. If he catches you two together in some bonding activity, he will dart across the room and jump him. You had to practically beg Vaggie to not use her spear as a baseball bat whenever he tried to pull that one on the King of Hell.

When you are sitting, he likes to loaf on your lap. Just keeping you pinned to your seat so you'll be forced to pay attention to him and only him. He won't admit it ever, but he absolutely adores being scratched behind the ears.

Satan fobid if you get a hold of a laser pointer. You can see him literally vibrate, eye twitching, trying to resist the siren call of the light. (He eventually gives in)

Any pests? He will take care of them, you can find him casually munching on the carcass of some dead animal in the middle of the hall, talk about being classy. And then he'll have the nerve to call you out for chewing too loud.

Get ready to wake up to him staring at you unblinkingly, with his snout mere centimeters from your nose. The first time he did it, you screamed and fell out of bed. He checked to make sure you were okay, but still found the situation very amusing, given the way his smile widened.

It is impossible to take a pic of Alastor in that form. He is always hypervigilant since he knows the damage it could cause to his reputation as a feared overlord. All pics of him are either blurry or distorted. You don't have the heart to tell him that it just makes them more hilarious.

You don't know how to turn him back, Lucifer seems to not know how to do it (or maybe he does and is having way too much fun with this), but maybe you'll keep him like that for a little while; as a cat, you dad is practically harmless, or at least less dangerous than he was as a demon. Also, it feels nice going to sleep with him curled into a fluffy ball by your head, his static filled purrs lulling you to sleep.

[beenbaanbuun]

paranormal / opposites attract

san yawns as he walks into the dining room, shirt still untucked and tie hanging loosely over his shoulders. in his right hand is a mug of coffee and in his left a pile of mail. he takes a sip, passing the envelopes to an already immaculately dressed hongjoong. you hear seonghwa sigh as he pushes his chair back, standing gracefully before making his way over to the butler. the tired man doesn’t even question it when seonghwa spins him around to finish dressing him, although you do catch him send an irritated looking glance to the werewolf who can’t help but snicker at the scene before him. in yeosang’s eyes its fair game; he too had been dressed by seonghwa before breakfast, as had you.

you reach over to steal a strawberry from hongjoong’s plate whilst his attention is focused on the letters in hand. he barely spares you a passing glance as you pop the fruit into your mouth and bite down, simply rolling his eyes as he rips into an envelope.

“anything for me?” you say mid-chew, only to be cut off by a dramatic sigh from seonghwa.

“finish eating before you talk, lamb,” he scolds as his fingers work on finishing off san’s tie, “no one wants to see what’s inside your mouth.”

yeosang’s giggles grow a little louder before promptly shifting to silence when your foot comes into contact with his shin. you ignore the glare he shoots at you, giving him a kind smile in return, showing yourself as the picture of innocence. no doubt the second you’re excused from the table he’ll have you pinned to your favourite rug, growling at you from where his body hovers above yours. you can only hope your ghoul is preoccupied this time; the poor thing had grown rather worried the last time he witnessed yeosang scolding you.

you swallow the fruit before turning to face hongjoong once more. “well?” you press, “you never answered my question; is there anything for me?”

“is there ever?” hongjoong counters, tossing one letter onto the table before moving onto the next. you cant deny that he has a point, but you can still hope, can’t you? pretend that there are more than just a handful of people that would care for you enough to write. you sink back into your chair and tug your lip miserably between your teeth. the disappointment is small enough to be unreadable to anyone else, but not to your family. he sighs and presses the second letter down against the stained mahogany. “i’m sorry, dove; i didn’t mean it to offend.”

you nod to him, although he doesn’t look fully convinced. with a sigh, he pushes a letter towards you and smiles. “it’s addressed to the ‘kim family’ which you are a part of, are you not?” well, by law, no, but you’d never let either of them hear you say that. you can feel seonghwa’s eyes burning into you as you stare into hongjoong’s so you nod. seonghwa hums as hongjoong shoots you a toothy grin; they’re pleased with your compliance, and you can’t help but let out an exasperated sigh at that fact. “so technically speaking there is something for you, dove. go ahead, open it.”

you do as instructed, picking it up and letting your fingers rip open the wax seal that holds it shut. if you cared to look at it for more than a second, perhaps you would’ve noticed the familiar letters that made up the emblem on it, although perhaps not; JWY haven’t meant a thing to you in such a long time. the last time you saw them was when you were at school with a boy with the same initials. he was certainly something, always teasing you and poking fun. half the time you acted kim you hated him for it, but you have to admit that he left a pretty big hole in your heart when it came time for him to leave. besides the butler, the werewolf and the ghost, you guess he was the closest think you ever had to a friend.

you pull the letter from its sleeve, hearing a scoff to your left as you reveal the ruled paper with the torn edges that had clearly been pulled from a notebook of some kind. in your eyes it has charm, in your lovers it is undignified. still, you unfurl it and let your eyes scan over the page.

dear mr and mr kim,

a bad start already, you find yourself thinking, it isn’t addressed to you at all. you send a scornful look to hongjoong to which he responds with a frown. with a sigh, you go back to reading.

i have no doubt that with a property like yours you must receive an unyielding amount of enquiries from paranormal investigators such as myself. i won’t sugarcoat it and claim to be better than the rest—

blah blah blah……

the author of the letter is right; a never ending stream of similar letters show up on your doorstep, all of which end up shrivelled and burnt on the fire come evening. hongjoong and seonghwa like their privacy a little too much to let a complete stranger poke around in search of a ghost or two. you like your shy little ghost friend a little too much to force him to reveal himself to a stranger who’s bound to lack respect for the dead. you fold the top third of the letter back over, preparing to slide it back into its envelope.

but then you see it, a name scrawled in the same messy handwriting as the rest of the letter. it hits you like a ton of bricks, the pain of missing someone, and although you haven’t seen him in years, it’s just as strong as it was back then. you bite your bottom lip as you study the name, trying desperately to keep the tide of sadness at bay. the others could see it anyway.

finished with dressing san, seonghwa walks over to stand behind you. a warm hand finds your shoulder and rubs at you comfortingly over the thick wool of the cardigan you wear. he reads the last few lines of the letter aloud, “yours sincerely, jung wooyoung, paranormal investigator,” before humming contemplatively, “who is he?”

of course seonghwa knows it’s the name that has you feeling this way. what else could it be? it’s not like the words ‘paranormal investigator’ would set you on edge; your best friends are a werewolf and a ghost, for devils sake.

“someone i once knew,” you reply simply.

“an ex?” hongjoong joins in as his hand fumbles around his plate. his fingers soon wrap around another berry, and he holds it out for you. it makes you smile; how could it not? it’s small things like this that remind you why you love them so dearly.

“a friend,” you take the berry and pop it in your mouth. you chew and then swallow, exaggerating your actions for seonghwa’s sake who simply rolls his eyes and presses a kiss to your forehead. “he left a long time ago. makes sense he became a paranormal investigator; he always did have a lack of respect for privacy.”

there’s a chuckle from hongjoong and seonghwa as you recount the memory of the man from your past. it’s very rare that they hear positive things about those people so it’s nice to finally find someone you shared a connection with. a shared look between them confirmed what they both already knew; they wouldn’t be letting this ‘wooyoung’ person get away from you so easily this time.

“a friend?” the silent conversation is interrupted by a scoff from the seat beside hongjoong and all eyes find their way to yeosang. the ever present nonchalance on his expression had melted into a pout that looked a lot less fierce than he probably intended it to. “how good of a friend could he have been if he abandoned you?”

ah… jealousy; yeosang’s favourite emotion. it was present when he met san for the first time before realising that san worked too hard to be around you 24/7 like yeosang is. even if the butler wanted to steal you away, he couldn’t possibly spare enough hours in his day to do so. yeosang quite clearly has the upper hand in that situation. then there was the issue of your ghost, which of course had struck yeosang with a bad bout of jealousy once more. the ghost was rather pathetic though, with the constant stream of tears falling down his cheeks and the sound of fragility ever present in his voice. jealousy soon melted into pity; he was reluctant but yeosang soon accepted the bear into his heart.

“we were 14, yeosang,” you smile, “i don’t think he had a say in whether he moved away or not.”

the wolf rolls his eyes rather dramatically and you can’t help but scoff out a fond laugh.

“well, he’s back in town now,” seonghwa purrs as he leans his body over yours. chest to spine, cheek to cheek, he huddles in close. his skin is warm against yours as he cuddles you, and when he pulls his face away just enough to give him room to kiss the corner of your eye, you can’t help but grin. “how about we invite him over some time next week? i’m sure sannie wouldn’t mind putting on food for one more person.” the butler hums in tired agreement, his brain still too sleep riddled to figure out what he’s agreeing to.

you smile, happy in the knowledge that one happy little piece of your past has found its way back to you…

[puck-luck]

this was born out of a text exchange between me and cappy where i rewatched the "coming home" youtube video and quinn had the audacity to bend over the edge of the table like a SLUT. my message about that moment was "I HATE him for putting his leg up on the edge like this (and you know what? Bea would fuck him on the pool table fs)". Cappy replied: "also - circling back to the fucking on the pool table. yes i do think that should be included in bea’s book. love that both girls fuck their men on the pool table". then I discussed how Bea is going to ask how it was for Honey because position-wise, she wasn't super comfy "And then honey’s going to be like “bruh” and then bea will be like “aw that’s so cute of us, we fucked our guys in the same place 😊 we’re basically semen sisters” and honey is going to be so affronted". So that's what inspired this. I started having visions when I was supposed to work on my grad school essay, so I needed to write it down to get it out of my mind.

HERE! is the beaquinn pool table sex. if you want to know what's happening with honeytrev at the same time as this, you can reread days 30-33 in Chapter 5 of stg. LOVE YOU! say it back. ENJOY!

[5.1K WORDS]

Bea almost doesn’t want to leave Quinn’s bed when she hears the front door creak open, signaling the brothers’s return from Las Vegas. It’s warm in here and the pillow smells like Quinn. Her t-shirt will have to do. It’s Quinn’s old yellow Michigan t-shirt, which falls big on her but not big enough to cover her behind. The hardwood floor is cold as she makes her way out of bed and throws the sheets back into place, tiptoeing down the hall and the stairs without making the floor creak too much. Bea undoes the messy braid on the back of her head, knowing how Quinn likes it when her hair is loose for him to play with. She shakes out her hair as she creeps down the stairs, the whispers of the brothers getting louder with each step.

“Jack, the door–” Luke hisses just before the front door bangs shut.

Bea stifles a giggle by pressing her fingers over her lips, still hiding in the shadows of the staircase. 

The boys stand in almost identical poses, shoulders tense and heads ducked. They’re waiting for one of their housemates to wake up and get mad at them for making so much noise. They’re lucky– Cole’s been dead to the world since about 10:30 and Trevor went to bed around 11 after he talked with Honey. Bea doesn’t know exactly what happened, since Honey is still so unsure about this Trevor thing, with good reason, but she knows that Honey had to remind him to think before he speaks. Bea is so glad she doesn’t have that problem– Quinn loves to think before he speaks. The other boys are less thoughtful, but she’s never had to chew them out for saying something stupid.

“Close one, eh?” Jack whispers, although he’s bad at whispering, so his voice just seems softer than normal.

Bea steps out of the shadows, staying close to the wall like it’ll camouflage her bright yellow shirt. 

“Bea,” Quinn breathes out, noticing her immediately. He sets his suitcase down next to him, a smile growing on his face when he recognizes her outfit.

“You’re late,” Bea whispers, matching his grin. “You said 1:30.”

“Sorry,” Quinn says, but he doesn’t seem all that sorry.

“There was a crash on 77,” Luke adds. “Pretty bad. Probably better that it happened in the middle of the night, since there weren’t as many cars on the road.”

Bea hums. “That’s sad.”

“Have you been up this whole time?” Jack asks. “It’s late.”

Bea shakes her head. “Slept a little bit.”

“Oh, yeah?” Jack grins. “Whose bed?”

Stupid. Bea snorts, taking a few more steps until she’s in front of him. She lifts her hand and squishes his cheeks between her fingers. “Not yours,” she says. “G’night, Jacky.”

He makes a kissing noise at her, then steps back and bumps into the table in the hall. “Oops,” he mumbles. “Night, Bea.”

Luke echoes a goodnight and pats Bea on the back, holding both his and Quinn’s suitcases in his hands. The brothers squeeze past her, leaving Quinn and Bea in the dark alone.

She grins at him, bouncing a little bit on her tiptoes out of excitement. She’s missed him. Quinn smiles back, his eyes glinting in the darkness. He’s the first to step forward, sweeping her up into his arms in a tight hug. He buries his face in her neck, letting his arms push her shirt up so that he can touch the smooth expanse of her back. Bea wraps her arms over his shoulders and plays with his hair, breathing him in. He smells a little bit like airport, but the scent of his sandalwood shampoo is stronger than ever. 

“You shower this morning?” Bea asks, pinching the close-cut strands on the back of his head between her fingers. 

“God, I knew you were going to comment on that,” Quinn groans, pulling away from her. His hands rest on Bea’s waist, pinkies brushing the band of her cheeky underwear. “I was on a plane for like five hours, babe.”

Bea’s stomach twists at the pet name, her cheeks turning a little red and her mouth widening somehow further. She admires Quinn for a moment, eyes cataloging how his face looks sharper with his stubble only just growing back. Her eyes pass over the scar on his cheek. Honey only just noticed it the other night. It’s one of Bea’s favorite things about his face– tied for first with, well, everything else. 

She realizes that she’s gone too long without replying, mostly because the edges of Quinn’s lips are tilting upward in an amused way.

“Hey, winner,” Bea greets, tilting her head to kiss him hello. “Missed you.”

Quinn breathes out a tiny laugh, kissing her again like a reply. “I missed you, too. Was thinking about you the whole time.”

Bea faux-gasps. “You were thinking about me, but you didn’t even thank me in your speech?”

Quinn chuckles, a little louder this time. His thumb runs along her hip, petting the skin there. It makes Bea’s sides feel warm, like the friction is sending shocks through her body. “Oh, come on. How would that have sounded?”

“‘And thank you to Bea McLean, the best person I’ve ever met’...?” Bea teases, blinking at Quinn. “Obviously. Sounds pretty good to me.”

Quinn shakes his head, still smiling fondly. He rolls his eyes a little bit, but he concedes. “I’ll work it in next time.”

“I’m expecting it. First back-to-back Norris winner since Nicklas Lindstrom, yeah?”

“Lidstrom, baby,” Quinn corrects. He pulls Bea close again, hugging her for the second time. His hands rub up and down her back again and Bea swears that she can feel his fingerprints as he moves. “You tired?”

“I slept a little. Are you tired?”

“Had a coffee at the airport ‘cause I’m stupid,” Quinn replies. His voice turns sarcastic, overly dramatic and trying to get her sympathy. “And the boys were draining me, they’re so annoying.”

Bea pats his chest. “You love them,” she reminds him.

Quinn’s easy to break. “Yeah,” he agrees. “They’re pretty great.” He pauses, eyes flickering over her face akin to how she surveyed him earlier. “Wanna go watch a movie?”

“Movie will put me to sleep. We can play a round of pool, if you want. Keep your winning streak going,” Bea teases. 

“You just want to bend over in front of me,” Quinn bites back, laughing. His hands go to her behind, covering Bea’s cheeks with his palms. “Distract me with your panties.”

“It would be more distracting if I wasn’t wearing them,” Bea points out, wiggling back into Quinn’s touch. 

“I think you’re already distracting enough in my Michigan shirt,” Quinn says. “C’mon. Let’s go downstairs. You can fill me in on the past couple days while you lose.”

He’s got that playful tone in his voice again, the one that Bea loves. It’s so domestic, the way that she and Quinn talk to each other. They’ve got a vibe about them, something that fits like a puzzle piece, but Bea is getting too far ahead of herself. It’s not even July. They’re just having fun, by her own design. So what if he calls her ‘baby’ and it makes her stomach flip-flop every time?

They’re still trying to be quiet as they head down to the basement, making sure to close the door behind them. Quinn racks the balls and Bea chooses her usual stick– she only knows which one it is because it’s got a chip about ⅓ of the way down the shaft– and starts to tell him what he missed. 

“Honey tried to ban Trevor from the store because he’s bad at being a person,” Bea starts. “I don’t know the drama, but apparently he doesn’t think.”

“Have they fucked yet?” Quinn asks, rounding the table and stationing himself to break the rack. Bea never breaks when they play. She’s not very good at hitting one ball, much less strategically breaking up a group of fifteen. “Or are they still stuck on him fingering her in the back room?”

“They’re still stuck. She likes him so much, though, she just won’t admit it,” Bea continues. She looks at the table. Quinn made one of the stripes in off of his break– 14 maybe– so he’s trying to pick his second ball now.

“She’ll get there. It’s kind of like a tree falling, isn’t it,” Quinn says. He lines up the 11-ball with the pocket and knocks it in, then purposefully bumps off the wall in a meaningless shot so that Bea has a chance. “Takes a while, but once she’s down, she’s down.”

Hmm. “I’ve never thought of it like that,” Bea tells him. “That’s smart, Q. You’re right.” She eyes the 5-ball, since it’s kind of in the way of all of the ones she wants to get to. Might as well move it. Bea crosses the table and shoots it off to the other side of the table. A problem for later.

“You can’t try to lose on purpose,” Quinn chides.

“I’m not trying to lose on purpose, I just wanted to get that one out of the way,” Bea argues back. 

Quinn rolls his eyes and sighs. “You should’ve shot at the 7.”

Bea side eyes him. “Don’t tell me what I should’ve done. Mansplainer.”

Quinn shrugs. “Just trying to help.” He focuses on his next shot. “What’d you do after we left?”

“Worked. I dragged Honey here to watch the Awards, we played Uno– I won, by the way, and I’ll school you next time we play–” Quinn interrupts her with a laugh, narrowly missing a pocket when the ball bounces off the corner edge. “I called you after you won, and then we broke out the hot tub earlier today.”

That catches Quinn’s interest. “Oh, yeah?” He asks. “You took a dip? Did Cole try anything stupid?”

Bea hears the insinuation immediately. “No, Cole and I didn’t hook up while you were gone,” she says with a tinge of fake exasperation in her voice. “I told you over the phone on Thursday, I only have sex with men who have won the James Norris trophy.”

Quinn laughs aloud, throwing his head back. “How long is that going to last?” He teases. “Just so I can know when I’m back to graciously sharing you with the other boys.”

Bea groans. When they’re alone, Quinn always flaunts how he was the first and how he’s her favorite. He gets a kick out of acting like he’s special and Bea pretends to hate it. He is special, but he doesn’t need to know that. “I can still go up to Jack’s bed now, you know.”

“You wouldn’t dare.”

Bea leans over to shoot at one of her solids. It bounces off a wall and changes directions. “That’s all that happened this weekend, really. Tell me about Vegas. Lose any money?”

“Tons,” Quinn confirms, but the cheeky grin on his face tells her that he’s stretching the truth. He starts to talk about how he and his brothers snuck Luke into the casino with a well-placed bribe to the doorman and autographs for his kids. The stories from the weekend pile up as Quinn and Bea mill around the table, taking shots and sinking them in Quinn’s case, missing them in Bea’s. He tells her about the people he saw, the things he did, the interviews he had, that he got an offer to be on the cover of NHL 25 but he’s going to hold out until they let him bring Jack and Luke with him, and that he’s happy he got to see his mom and dad. He officially tells Bea that they’re coming for Fourth of July, although that surprise had already been spoiled by Trevor on Thursday. 

Quinn wins– of course. Bea wasn’t going to win this game unless he intentionally threw it, like her first time playing him. They’re past the intentional throws now. Bea goes to update the board– honor code is highly valued in this house– and Quinn pockets the rest of the balls so that everything is nice and clean for tomorrow. There’s no sense in leaving them out. She can hear Quinn sneaking up behind her.

“You look good in my shirt, sweetheart,” Quinn murmurs, wrapping his arms around her waist from behind and kissing Bea’s shoulder. “I gotta get you in Michigan gear more often.”

“You know, if they ever play Carolina again, you’ll have to pry my UNC gear from my cold, dead body,” Bea says, reaching a hand around and threading her fingers through Quinn’s hair again.

“Wouldn’t be the first time I pried the clothes off this body,” Quinn says, self-satisfied smirk evident in his voice. He turns Bea in his grip so that she’s facing him. He kisses her, more than a greeting peck this time. “You tired yet?”

Once again, Bea can see right through his question. “Not a chance. I’ve been waiting for my winner to get home.”

“That’s what I like to hear,” Quinn praises, voice low. He captures Bea’s lips again, moving against her in the comfortable way that they’ve adopted in the weeks since they’ve been seeing each other. 

Bea lets Quinn lead this time, his hands guiding her closer. He’s got a palm under her shirt, resting on the small of her back, and the other cradles her face gently, like something precious. Bea knows that it’s a casual thing, but she likes to lose herself in moments like this. Quinn is just so… all-consuming. He’s like a really loud and unexpected clap of thunder, one that rumbles on for longer than you expect. His touch makes Bea jump, sometimes.

Her hands explore him a bit, like she doesn’t get to touch him all the time. The difference is that Bea finds something new every time and she never tires of getting her hands on Quinn. She knows that he tends to be insecure when it comes to his build, which comes from years of being an awkward teen with a nose that seemed too big for his face and acne that riddled his forehead, but Bea can’t imagine Quinn as anything other than perfect.

He’d be slightly more perfect if he had a bedroom to himself. 

“I feel bad kicking Luke out,” Bea whispers to Quinn when they break for air. “You guys got in so late. He’s probably asleep.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Quinn replies. He brings his hands to the backs of Bea’s thighs and lifts her up, guiding her legs around his waist. “We don’t need a bed.”

Bea makes a face. “We stay fuckin’ in the bed, Q.” Lord knows she’s not against having sex in an odd place– the back of Griffin’s patrol car, for one– but she and Quinn haven’t really branched out yet. “I didn’t know you were so adventurous.”

“What can I say,” Quinn teases. “You bring something out in me. Let’s try something new.” He nips at her bottom lip, then drags his tongue against the area he bit. “It’ll be fun.”

Bea giggles. He gets so flirty and touchy, sometimes. “What are you thinking, Crazy?” She teases him right back with the nickname, bringing her index finger to the curve of his nose. It really is the perfect size and shape– so appealing. 

She’s distracted by a memory, from the second time they hooked up. Quinn had told her that he didn’t get to do everything he wanted the first time, and when she asked what he meant, he’d licked his first two fingers and slid the wet digits against the fabric of her underwear. She’d gotten much more wet when he made his way between her legs with his mouth, kissing and licking over her folds and entrance as the fabric molded to her anatomy. It was only then that he’d removed the panties and gotten his mouth on her properly– the vision often comes to her when she’s trying to sleep at home, alone. His nose had been so nice then, bumping against her clit as he’d ravished her.

Bea’s stomach grows a little warmer at the reminder. 

“I want you right here,” Quinn says, breaking her from the spell. He sits Bea down on the edge of the pool table, the cool wood of the edges pressing against her thighs while the felt of the table scrapes against the hem of her shirt. He stands between her legs and places a hand behind her head, kissing her and leaning forward so that she’ll lay back. Once Bea is laying down, flat underneath Quinn, he pushes her shirt up and takes it off. 

The felt of the table feels weird under her bare skin, but it’s not bad. The bite of the ridge of the table is worse against her thighs, but Bea doesn’t speak up about it because Quinn’s removing his shirt.

The moonlight from outside makes him seem paler than he is, but it creates a beautiful series of shadows across his body that emphasize his muscles. His arms seem like they’re bulging more, his chest has more definition, and his jawline– oh, his jawline. Bea didn’t realize just how much his long hair hid that from her.

“I like your haircut,” Bea says, not realizing how silly and belated it sounds when she’s almost entirely naked on the pool table below him. 

Quinn chuckles, smiling at her. One side of his lips lifts higher than the other, which is how she knows that he’s blushing, even when the moonlight hides it. “Thanks, baby,” he says softly, leaning down again to find her lips. His cock, still trapped by his pants, fits perfectly against the place where she wants him most. 

She grinds up against him, drawing a low moan from the back of Quinn’s throat. He placates her with kiss after kiss down her neck and between her tits, as far down as he can go while he keeps his pelvis in line with her own. He’s fiddling with his zipper with one hand, kneading Bea’s right breast with his left hand. The skin of his fingertips is a little dry, but his thumb catches her nipple just right and Bea keens, her vision getting a little darker.

“Missed me that much, hm?” Quinn teases in his low voice. “Two days I’m gone, baby, and you’re this needy? What am I going to do with you when I’m gone for a week, or two?”

Bea reaches to his hair and brings his lips to hers, to silence him. She’s beyond talking and beyond teasing. She wants him inside, like, yesterday. 

“Relax, I’m coming,” Quinn assures Bea, mumbling his words against her lips. He finally takes his hand from her breast to shove his pants and underwear down, stepping out of them so he can move better. He drags his tip through her folds, her wetness gathering along his skin. “Did you mean it?” He asks. “What you said on the phone?”

Bea pauses, wracking her brain. She said a lot of things on the phone to Quinn. She meant them all. She’s about to say yes, just so he can get on with it, but then she spots the way he’s biting his lower lip and his eyes have turned hungry. They’re trained on the place where he’s nudging his tip against her clit, slit bubbling out precum and dripping on the sensitive bundle of nerves. 

“What part?” Bea asks, captivated by the look on Quinn’s face. 

His eyes rise to hers and he looks positively intoxicated by whatever he’s thinking. Bea’s skin crawls a little, but not in a bad way. In an excited way– whatever Quinn’s referring to, he wants badly. Bea wants to see him give into that.

“That you’d reward me for winning,” he prompts, eyes darting from her gaze to her lips, which have parted in recognition. “By letting me fuck you bare.” His jaw clenches a bit once he says it, but Bea reads him. He’s not sure what she’ll say and he seems cautious to show his deeper thoughts on that, but his caution is betraying him anyway. Bea knows Quinn. She speaks his language, reads his tics, and understands him. He wants this.

“Norris winners get to come inside me,” Bea says, repeating the exact words that she whispered into the speaker while he stroked himself in the Las Vegas hotel bathroom. It was his tipping point, and now she understands why. “Since you won, you get to feel all of me.” Her throat seems drier than before when she swallows. Bea’s never had that before– she’s thought about it, hence why she brought it up to Quinn in the first place. It’s why she gets the shot every three months instead of relying on condoms– in case, one day, there was a man that she wanted in the most intimate way. That day is today. “Fuck me, Quinn.”

His mouth is insistent when it joins hers, tongue dragging over her own and filling the space between her lips. “Baby,” Quinn groans. “You’re going to be the death of me.”

“Preferably not right now,” Bea jokes, lifting her hips to remind him of the task at hand. 

Quinn laughs at the joke, smiling into his next kiss. “You’re so perfect,” he says. “Can’t believe I met you.”

Bea feels his words on her heart like a prick of a rose’s thorn. A little bit of herself seeps out, flooding her chest and making her eyebrows furrow with the sudden rush of emotion. “Quinn,” Bea says, feeling like she’s whining a little bit.

“Okay, okay, I won’t say it anymore,” he says, returning his focus to the space between her legs. He wastes another few seconds, entranced by his tip going through her folds, before he lines himself up and starts to shift forward. He moans quietly at the feeling, just expelling the breath from his lungs.

Bea’s surprised by the feeling too– at least, she thinks Quinn’s feeling some sort of surprise. He’s certainly relishing in the experience, trying to catalog how she feels around him with the way his eyes have drifted shut and his mouth has fallen open. She closes her eyes to do the same– and finds that it’s not that different, all in all. She just feels closer to him.

“Please, move,” Bea whispers, resting her hand on Quinn’s bicep, giving it a squeeze to prompt him. Well, that, and she wanted to feel the muscle beneath it. The moonlight had her wondering if it was really that much more defined. 

“Gimme a sec,” Quinn grits out, taking a breath. “You just feel so–” He exhales a sharp breath. “Fuck, you feel good.”

Another thorn to the chest– Bea has to breathe in deep to steel herself. This doesn’t feel like just fucking anymore.

She’s able to put that aside when Quinn starts to drag himself out of her heat, then push back in. His hair is tickling her nose with the way that his head has fallen forward in pleasure, so Bea pushes it out of the way with her palm. Quinn’s forehead has started to bead with sweat, but only barely. His eyes catch hers.

His eye contact has always made the hair on her arms stand up, increasing her pleasure tenfold. He’s so attentive to her needs, crowding into her space and touching her tits and sides in the way that makes her feel like a lighting rod gearing up for a strike. 

Quinn breaks first. “Bea,” he murmurs, dipping his head to mouth against her neck. He leaves a wet spot there, which dries in the cool, early morning air. His hand moves from her side to her thigh, spreading her legs further so that he can inch closer. He seems determined to be as close to her as he can, touching her in every way. 

“I know,” Bea replies. “Harder, Quinn. Take it. Make me come. Need you to feel my pussy when it comes on your bare cock.”

His moan is choked but loud when she says that. Quinn’s hips start to move the way she’s used to– harder, faster, determined. He’s louder like this, or maybe it’s the silence of the basement and the night that surrounds them playing tricks on Bea’s mind. It’s just– his breath is warmer and she feels like she can feel him moving in her bones. This is more.

Quinn brings his thumb to her mouth, which Bea takes greedily. She knows his moves– he wants her to get him all wet so that he can touch her somewhere she needs. She swirls her tongue around the digit, leaving as much saliva as she can on his thumb before he pulls it from her mouth with a pop. 

His hand drifts to her boobs again, finding one of her nipples and pinching it with his slick finger. He tugs a little, which prompts Bea’s spine to arch like her body is begging him to do it again. Quinn does, but he switches nipples, wiggling his hand between their bodies and taking hold of her. He kisses her again, distracting her from the mixture of pain and pleasure. All the while, he’s bucking into her desperately, displacing her on the pool table. 

Her thigh starts to spasm under his hand, twitching because she’s close. Bea wraps her arms around Quinn’s shoulders, a mirror image of the hug she gave him at the beginning of their night. He’s not the only one who wants to be close.

“Fuck, Quinn, keep going,” Bea pleads, shifting as best she can to remove the pressure of the edge of the pool table from her body. It’s a dull ache, distracting her from Quinn’s cock and the way it moves in her cunt. His tip meets the cartilage of her cervix relentlessly, turning her vision spotty with the sensation. It feels so wet with him unprotected inside of her, leaking and mixing with her own slick. 

He shifts so that he’s hovering just a few inches above her body, hands going from her thigh and her breast to both of her hips. He grips her skin, biting his lower lip to stifle his grunts. His eyes have grown focused, narrowing the way they do when he evaluates a shot on this very table or when he tries to dance between the boys on the hockey rink outside to score. He pulls her back into him, all while thrusting his hips forward, and Bea’s falling into an unfamiliar space where only Quinn has ever placed her. 

“Fuck,” Bea whines, reaching for Quinn and coming up with nothing, so she clutches at the pocket of the pool table instead. She holds the wood between her fingers, sure that she’ll either warp the table or break her fingers from the force of her grip. “‘M coming, Q.”

“Good girl,” Quinn says through his teeth, his voice gravelly. “Let me feel it.”

Bea lets out a short cry, legs still shaking beneath Quinn. The bruising pain of the edge of the table is nothing now, not when there’s a chill making its way from the depths of her stomach to the tight coil in her stomach. 

“So perfect,” Quinn says again, praising Bea as she starts to come undone on his cock.

“You,” Bea corrects, breathless and reaching for Quinn again. She finds his forearm this time, circling her fingers around his wrist. She squeezes, trying to get her point across. He can say it all he wants, but she’s going to make sure she says it back, because he is. 

Her touch sends Quinn over the edge, which only intensifies the aftershocks of her own orgasm. Bea keens lowly in the back of her throat as Quinn’s jaw drops once again, eyes falling shut as his seed flows from his cock and paints her walls. The sensation surprises Bea, much like her original reaction to his raw form, and she constricts against him by accident. That spurs Quinn on, making him choke and plaster himself against her body as his cock releases the last of his cum.

His hips twitch inside of her after he’s done and Quinn has to clear his throat and shake his head to come back to himself. Bea pets his hair through it, focused on the feeling of his freshly cut ends between her fingers. 

“You should know that I really liked that,” Quinn says first.

Bea giggles, tugging his hair. “Really? I couldn’t tell.”

Quinn bites the side of Bea’s neck to chastise her for teasing him. “You think you’re so funny.”

“I think I’m about to leak all over the pool table in your rented house if you don’t get me to a bathroom soon,” Bea replies. “Chop chop, babydoll.”

Quinn groans with the effort, but he lifts Bea from the pool table and awkwardly walks toward the basement’s bathroom, settling her on the already-lifted toilet seat– perks of living with a bunch of fucking boys, Bea thinks– and then he starts to wash his hands.

“Tired yet?” Quinn asks for a third time, looking over at Bea and grinning as he continues to rub the suds all over his hands and wrists. “Wanna watch a movie?”

Bea makes a face. “Are you trying to wash me off or something? Damn, Q, it’s been twenty seconds,” she replies instead, pretending to be offended and hurt. She doesn’t actually want to start watching a movie at 3 a.m. and Quinn should feel similarly. She wants to go to bed with him.

Quinn looks down at her vagina, very obviously, and quirks an eyebrow. “I mean, I just came in you, so I feel like that’s hard to wash away.” He rinses his hands and towels them off. “So no movie?”

“Oh my God, get out of the bathroom so I can pee,” Bea exclaims, starting to laugh a bit. “You’re so weird. No movie.”

“Episode of Love Island?” Quinn asks. “Any drama I missed between Leah and Rob?”

Bea points an accusing finger at him. “I knew you enjoyed my trashy shows,” she says. “And all this time you’ve been grumbling about them.”

Quinn shrugs. “No one will believe you,” he whispers conspiratorially. 

Bea purses her lips at him. “Well, good, because that’s my thing with Cole.” Quinn acts like he’s wounded, so Bea sticks her tongue out at him. “Not everything can be about you, Q.”

“I’ll get over it,” Quinn says. “You still like me best.”

Bea matches his previous whisper. “And no one will ever believe you.”

Quinn leaves the bathroom laughing. Bea hopes he goes upstairs to get one of the good blankets for them to share when they inevitably fall asleep on the couch after Quinn turns on a movie that Bea does not see the point in watching.

The background noise does help her sleep, though, and she thinks Quinn knows that.

sigh i love beaquinn they're so dreamy best couple ever can't believe they break up at the end of the summer OOPS SORRY SPOILERS (y'all already know that, i haven't been keeping that under wraps)

[bellysoupset]

Part 2 of Leo's birthday - Jonah's turn.

This was a request from🧋anon!

---------------

Leo was cute when he slept and Jonah was sure this was an objective opinion and not just because he was head over heels in love with the guy. 

He was sprawled on the bed, occupying most of it and snoring softly, shirtless and having already kicked away most of the blankets. Despite the terrible ending of their night, Jon was still counting that as a good birthday. Sure, Leo had puked on Wendy’s shoes and then again on the kitchen sink as soon as they got home, but afterwards he had climbed into bed with Jonah, complaining about a bellyache, and had melted like a golden retriever pup on his lap, dozing off within minutes of getting the belly rub.

That should still count as a good birthday, right?

“Baby,” Jonah crawled on the bed, freshly showered and ready to head in for work, “Leo. Wake up, you’re going to be late for work,” he shook his fiance’s shoulder, “Leo.”

He’d probably end up being late himself at this rate. Leo groaned and swatted his hand away, making Jonah scoff.

“I’m heading to work,” he whispered, brushing Leo’s hair away from his face, “and I’m gonna set your phone’s alarm. Thirty more minutes, then you have to get up.”

“Uhhrgh,” was Leo’s response and Jonah rolled his eyes, doing as he had promised and leaving the bedroom. He had spent too much time in the shower and there wouldn’t be any time to make himself food, but the cupcakes Leo had brought over from work were still in the fridge.

Figuring his boyfriend certainly wouldn’t want them after puking due to too much food last night, Jonah quickly polished off the two cupcakes on his way down to the garage.

As his day progressed, Jonah’s good humor started to tank. Everything felt like too much, his clothes clinging to him, the hospital noise that normally he could drown out without thinking, sounding much louder than usual. 

Around 10 AM, he got a kid wailing down the ER and a distraught mom absolutely chewing the hell out of the paramedic who had just brought him in. Jonah cringed as he realized he’d have to be the one handling this. There were many reasons why he wanted to be a surgeon and one of them was no angry moms hovering about while he tried to do his job. 

He’d take a heart attack any day over a broken leg. 

Mom’s name was Louise and she was not impressed by Jonah’s bedside manner. Her son was named Charlie and he was struggling to keep up, the poor kid’s chin wobbling as he tried valiantly not to cry. 

“Charlie, we’re going to-”

The dam broke and more tears came up. Jonah sighed, resisting the urge to fan himself. It was so warm. He planted a sympathetic hand on the kid’s shoulder, wiping away the tears. It was painful to watch, knowing the boy was only hurting himself more by sobbing like that. 

“You’re okay,” Jonah cooed softly, as the nurse started up an IV, communicating silently with him. There was no way they could wait for oral painkillers to take effect before wheeling the kid to x-ray and that was considering he didn’t make himself sick with all the crying, “it’s just a little poke.”

“Hu-hurttssss,” the little boy continued to cry and Jonah rubbed his back, checking his watch. Five minutes for the morphine to kick in. Louise was patting her foot nervously on the ground, whole body shaking with anxiety. 

“Ma’am, he’s in good hands,” Jonah explained, just to say something. His stomach was starting to slosh uncomfortably, “we’re waiting for the painkillers to kick in and then we’ll go to x-ray, you’re welcome to accompany-”

“Of course I’m going with him, are you crazy?” She scoffed at him, stepping closer and cooing over her son. Jonah resisted the urge to move away, as the kid wiped at his nose grossly on the back of his sleeve and slightly cuddled up to his side. He was getting heavy. 

“There we go,” Jon lowered him against the pillow, “hurting less?”

The boy nodded, his face still all pink and wet with tears, “still hurts.”

“I know, I’m sorry,” he grimaced, signing the kid’s record and jolting down his next instructions, “we can’t give you too much medicine, in case we need to do another procedure. As soon as the X-rays are done we’ll give you better meds,” Jonah smoothed the boy’s hair back gently, “we’re going to move your bed now, okay Charlie? Are you feeling alright?”

The kid sucked in a sob, but nodded and Jonah smiled at him, “nurse Marjorie is going to stay with you the whole time,” he gestured to the much older nurse, who was one of his favorite people in the hospital. She had more than 30 years of experience, was trained for surgeries and tough as nails. “Then as soon as you’re released from X-Ray I’m going to see you again, okay?”

“O-Okay…” The kid’s voice broke and Jonah squeezed his hand in a sympathetic manner, before allowing the technicians to wheel him away, his mother not sparing the doctor a second glance. 

As soon as they were out of sight, Jonah allowed his smile to fade. 

While the interaction had been brief — and Louise hadn’t actually shaped up to be a momzilla, just a regular worried mother — it had been long enough for his stomach to go from “a little off” to “full blown nausea”. 

He felt a weird pressure travel up and Jonah quickly excused himself, power walking to the bathrooms, stripping his white coat as he rushed there so he wouldn’t be so recognizable as a doctor. 

The bathroom, given it was near the ER, wasn’t empty. There were five stalls on each side, the middle of the room had a large slab of stone with a mirror and five sinks on each side of the mirror. No urinals, for which Jonah was very glad.

He rushed inside of a stall and brought his coat to his mouth, muffling a loud, thick burp. Even with the fabric in the way, it was still pretty loud and he was sure others had heard it. Whatever, this was a hospital, he tried to reassure himself, as yet another sickening burp rolled up.

Jonah let out a little moan and lowered the coat, head hanging in shame and nausea. He folded the coat over one arm, slightly palming his stomach under his button up shirt. It was warm to the touch and bloated and the small pressure of his hand on it caused another belch to rush up, this one too expected for him to muffle it. 

It hurt his throat, the acidic sludge of his tummy rushing up with the burp, but he swallowed it down last second. Jonah pressed his forehead to the hard white plastic of the stall’s wall and breathed out slowly, he had to get his body in check. At least finish his ER hours. 

Defeated and knowing he wouldn’t puke right at this moment, Jonah walked out of the stall to wash his face.

The next two hours went like a blur. He tried his best to focus on his patients, but was forcefully reminded by his stomach that it was still very upset every other minute. He had grabbed a plastic cup of water and was sipping on it in between patients, pushing down the thick sweet saliva that kept flooding his mouth. 

Finally Claire came to relieve him, so he could go for lunch, and Jonah could’ve cried. Instead of heading down to the cafeteria or to the many restaurants that were around the hospital’s complex, he went to the doctor’s staff to lie down.

There was coming and going in the place, it was a change of shifts after all, and Jonah reached for his phone inside his locker. He grabbed it, then went to the back room where there were two bunker beds in case they needed to sleep.

One of the top ones was already occupied and Jonah put his phone on silent mode, then crawled on a bottom bed, curling up on his side and muffling another sick burp against the thin pillow. 

He wrapped an arm around his stomach, bringing up his knees and squeezing his eyes as the pressure made his belly feel like it was full with boiling liquid. 

There were texts from Leo and Jonah squinted at the screen, lowering the brightness and struggling to understand what his boyfriend was saying. 

Leo: Gonna call in sick at work, still feeling pretty shitty. Don’t think I overdid it yesterday, just ate something off. 

Leo: Good news! You’ll be happy to know the restaurant we went to didn't make me sick. I got food poisoning at the office :) When I get my hands on Sandy she’s done for.

Leo: Apparently they canceled everyone’s schedule, because everyone called in sick. Isn't that lovely? You bet your ass we’re gonna have a lecture on food handling and what not, can’t wait.

Leo: When are you coming home, my tummy hurts and I want cuddles 🥺🥺 JD is sick of me 

Leo: Jon, did you eat the cupcakes in the fridge? Baby, pls text me back.

The string of texts started at 8 AM and ended just around 10 AM, with one missed call accompanying it. Jonah gagged as he realized he had eaten the poisoned stuff as well and he dropped his phone on the mattress, half sitting up on the bed and trying to figure if he was about to spew or not.

He was sweating. Jon undid his tie and opened the top buttons of his shirt, sitting fully up and cradling his stomach. The whole organ was snarling like crazy and he gulped down when the flipping of its contents made him gag, almost bringing up liquid. 

“Fuck,” Jonah whispered, grabbing his phone, coat and tie and slipping out of the bedroom. He needed a bathroom, not a bedroom- His intestines cramped and Jon froze, shuddering at the sensation. He really needed a bathroom.

At least the doctor’s one was much more private. It still had stalls, but only two and the place was empty. Jonah dropped all his items to the ground, suddenly too restless and panicked to mind how gross that was. He wasn’t sure if he was going to shit his pants or puke. 

His stomach let out an upset whine and then a rush of bubbles went south, making up his mind for him. His hands were shaking as they fumbled with his belt and fly and he could feel his tummy rumbling ominously against his touch. 

He sat on the toilet, then wrapped his arms around his middle, gulping down nervously. The lights over his head felt like too much and he was sweating like hell. 

The runs left him so dizzy he was forced to plant a hand on the stall’s wall in order not to fall off the toilet. Jonah didn’t even bother muffling the sick burping fit that followed, his head swimming. 

Once he finally managed to get out of the bathroom, Jonah stared at his reflection angrily. He looked like hell. Sweat had glued down his tight curls to his temples and was beading over his forehead and mustache area, he looked gray, his lips pale… 

He washed his face and hands vigorously, then took a gulp of tap water and breathed through the sensation of it settling in his stomach like a brick. Jonah checked his watch, then groaned out loud, there was no way he’d be able to last the remaining five hours he still had to go. 

Wendy picked up on the third ring, sounding sleepy. She had the night shift today and Jonah felt bad about waking her up, but not so bad he considered not calling. He wanted to go home, his whole body was shaking. 

“Yeah?” she yawned, “Jon?”

“Dee, can you cover for me? I don’t feel well,” he said, straight to the point. Another yawn. 

“Please tell me Leo didn’t have a stomach bug. I can't get the flu again, I’m gonna cry,” Wendy groaned and he heard her moving around.

“No, food poisoning and I-” he turned his head, muffling a sick burp and gagging over the sink when it brought up some thick, extra sweet spit. Jonah took a steady breath, “I think I got it as well.”

“Fantastic,” Wendy deadpanned, “I can go in one hour, can you handle that long?”

He knew she only lived 10 minutes away from the hospital and that the 50 other minutes were probably to tell Vince goodbye, since he’d be driving back to Doverport. Jonah felt mildly annoyed at the fact she’d be making out with her boyfriend while he was dying, but he also knew she was already doing a gigantic favor by coming in five hours before she needed to. 

“Yeah, I can handle one hour,” he sighed, clutching his stomach. 

“Alright, I’ll be there,” she hung up without further ado and Jonah let out a sigh.

The thing was, he could clock out and then stay in the bathroom until Wendy arrived, but then it would mean his chart would show he had left five hours earlier and Jonah needed all the hours he could get. Whenever Wendy covered for him or he covered for her, they never clocked out. 

So instead of being smart and staying in the bathroom, he forced himself to go sit in his office. 

Normally he liked clinic office hours, but not today. Today he didn’t like anything. 

Jonah was sitting there, with his head in his hands and considering the stupidity of his actions given how badly his stomach was churning and how he kept burping — thank god his door was shut —, when there was a knock.

He glanced at his watch. 30 more minutes, couldn’t be Wendy. 

“Come-” just speaking increased his nausea tenfold and Jonah interrupted himself as he gagged, sliding the trashcan that was under his desk closer and–

The door opened, the person on the other side clearly not realizing he hadn’t finished his words. The little boy from before, now in crutches and with his leg on a cast, still looking like he was in pain and ready to cry, his mother right behind him…

“Fuck,” Jonah groaned, when his stomach gave up on him and he had no choice but to dive for the trashcan as a thick wave of vomit came up. He brought it up to his mouth, to shield his face from view, but still he heard over the rushing in his ears as the woman let out a shriek.

Humiliation only heightened his stomach ache and he coughed, bringing up another wave of overly sweet vomit. It tasted just like the chocolate cupcakes, except rotten. Jonah burped mid retch, feeling more than a little woozy and he fell from his chair, grabbing on the desk to keep from going down entirely.

A lot more noise now and then a hand was in the middle of his back, a female voice ushering his distraught patients out. He prayed the next wave of puke would drown him.

No such luck, his tummy squeezed again and Jonah let out a whimper as he was forced to burp and it brought up some more chunks of his poisoned breakfast. Finally, after what felt like a lifetime but was probably just a couple minutes, he stopped feeling like he was about to hurl and was left panting over the trashcan. 

He was shaking like hell and his stomach was cramping, intestines as well. Everything felt sort of fuzzy around the edges.

“Jon?” Wendy’s voice was like a balm to his nerves and he nearly cried. Instead he let out a groan and pulled back from the trashcan, falling vaguely against her. He heard her let out a little huff as he weight rested on her, but her hand was cold and gentle as it came to cup his forehead.

“Killme, Wen,” he groaned, his words sticking together and she let out a sigh, rubbing his arm.

“Are you done?”

“For now,” Jonah nodded. He knew he was far from done, not only because of the food, but because he felt a new type of nausea mix into his belly. Anxiety, panic, “my patients-”

“It’s okay,” Wendy squeezed his arm, “don’t think about that. Claire took them out.”

“Fuck,” he turned his head and blinked, finally getting a hold of his bearings. They were sitting on the ground, practically under his desk. Wendy had her white coat on and she looked incredibly concerned, “you’re not gonna call me an idiot for not sitting in the doctor’s lounge until you arrived?”

Wendy shook her head, “you’re feeling too bad for me to tease you,” she stroked his cheek lightly and Jonah felt a knot in his throat. He nodded in agreement and leaned forward, planting his forehead to her shoulder, a weird position given Wendy was much shorter than he was.

“I wanna die,” he groaned and she rubbed his back.

“You’re okay, sweetheart,” she ushered him up, “I’ll get their details and you can send the mom an apology card and some fancy wine. It’s not the end of the world, I promise you.”

“Stewarts-” Jonah started to say, meaning his supervisor, who’d absolutely chew him out for this and Wendy glared at him, pushing him along the hallway.

“You couldn’t have known, it came out of nowhere,” she lied through her teeth, “right? You were feeling fine before.”

Jonah cringed, but nodded, buying in the lie, “yeah, I certainly didn’t feel gross for hours beforehand.”

“Exactly,” Wendy pushed him down the hallway, “I’m gonna drive you home, okay? And you’re gonna be a decent patient and drink loads of water and get your boy to do the same, because I don’t want to see any of you in my hospital later.”

“Don’t call Leo my boy, that’s weird,” Jonah groaned, but he was feeling overwhelmingly fond of his best friend. He loved this woman so much.

[yandere-kokeshi]

would you be cool with thigh riding for Ghost? with a male or gn reader :) i was thinking like a short oneshot- something quick to get my mind some satisfaction of this man 😭 thanks man, you’re work’s neat!

Warnings: smut; dom ghost x sub reader; sir kink; public sex(?); nickname (kitten, bubba, baby boy, etc); orgasm denial; MINORS DNI!!!!

A/N: ya'll are horny but I respect that! This isn't my best work but I tried :]! This also wants Grammer checked. Sorry!

I also did male reader! The ghost icon belongs to @/yumethefrostypanda

“I want you to ride my thigh.”

You blinked. Twice. Thrice. You felt your face heat up. Your heart beats faster than ever.

What did he just say? No, no. You must’ve misheard him, right?

“Do I have to repeat myself, kitten?” His smooth yet scarred voice stated.

No no, you don’t have to. Heard you clearly.

He nudged your legs apart with his knee, pushing his chest against yours. His hands pinning your wrists against the wooden wall behind you.

You could feel his breath quicken — fanning against your lips in irritation and slight desperation.

“Y’know better than to tease me while I work.” His knee moved carefully, moving upwards; pushing pressure against your tight uniform. Forcing you to let out a slight groan.

You chewed the inside of your cheek, seeing and feeling his face get closer. Meeting his devil-like eyes that were penetrated with lust. Copying the way of the devil.

His lips finally pressed against yours, his hands moving up against your chest, before diving down and unbuckling your belt. Before removing it, he waited — almost waiting for you to hesitate; call off it or simply remove him from you.

But you did the opposite. You wanted to. No, needed this. You treasured it.

Simon pulled from the kiss, growling in the process; throwing the belt into the dark room. He grabbed your ass, squeezing it with his dented nails. Although, he let go and dropped your pants and underwear, kicking them away as he did with your belt.

“Couch, now.” His attractive voice ordered. He grabbed your hips, practically throwing you onto the soft cushion before making you sit on his lap. His hands massaged your legs, before repositioning you onto his now-naked thick thigh.

Lowering himself down to your jaw and neck, he started planting rough kisses across the thick muscles. Licking, pulling, and sucking. Biting and growling like a wild dog in heat.

Your hips started dragging against his leg. Forcing him to watch your hips, and whine — ordering for more attention.

What a baby you were.

“S-imon..” You mewled out, though your speed didn’t slow down nor stop. You were extremely desperate for this release. But you wanted his help.

“Hm. Think again, bubba.”

You whined yet again. Fuck, he knows how to get into your head.

“S-sir, please..” You groaned out. Already exhausted from his slight teasing and rough remarks against your body.

“Hm? What’s wrong, please what?–” He cooed right in your ear, blowing on your earlobe. “–Use your words. You’re a big boy.”

You shakily mumble out your request, feeling your stomach coil in tightness. “Help me cum, sir! I-i won’t act out again, I promise.” You plead out, feeling your cheeks warm up.

He hummed in consideration. Simon wrapped his thick fingers around your cock — watching you gasp when he touched your tip. Though, he also raised his leg higher, making you moan louder than ever.

Now feeling his hands make its way to grip your hips, he roughly pulled you forward, earning a high-pitched gasp.

“Does my thigh satisfy you? Or making people hear you cry out for me?” He teased.

He let out a chuckle when you replied with a groan; a deep laugh that shook you to your very deep core.

“Convince me that you’ll be a good boy and maybe I’ll make you cum, yeah?”

He knew how to get in your head. The way to smash your brain into liquefied filth.

All you could do was nod and listen as you steadily picked up speed. Eventually, finding a good rhythm as your hips rolled effortlessly against his muscled thigh.

While you were whining out, Simon kept massaging your hips, whispering dirty words that kept you going.

Your grip on his shoulders tightened, forcing a hum out of the man.

“Need help, baby boy?”

He took note of your let out frustrated whine, which, he immediately grasped your hips before controlling your speed.

Simon moved down to your jaw, kissing down to your neck, using his hands to guide you. “Such a dirty boy for me. Makin' all types of sounds jus' for me.”

You could only moan out his name before feeling your legs shake with anticipation, which, he took note of. Immediately, graphing your thigh harder to work you closer to the edge.

“Fuck! M' close!” You whimpered out.

He hummed and suddenly slowed his actions, forcing your hips to a stop. He heard you whine — a smirk plastered over his face as his hands traveled against your waist.

You whined out in frustration. “Please! I- need this. Let me cum, sir. Please!”

“Your so pretty when you beg. Let me finish you off, yeah? Bein' a good boy–” He lightly held your jaw, smirking as lust showed in his black eyes. “–Want your reward? Hm?”

You could only nod in pleasure. Before you could react, his hands were back on your hips and started grinding.

Whimpering out, your stomach started heating; you felt woozy, almost like you smelled something extremely strong.

“Look at your pretty cock, so needy.”

You whimpered out. Gripping your hands against his shoulders, you moaned out again. Before resting your forehead against him for more support.

The coil in your stomach snapped.

“Gonna!–”

Your back arched — cock buzzing. Cum spurts all over his thigh, stomach, and hands. Simon arches his thigh, making you shriek.

Huffing in overstimulation, you looked at him and saw a smile. He let out a dry chuckle before gripping your chin, forcing you to look at him as he brought you into a heated kiss.

But, removing himself from you. He grabbed your thigh, leaning into your ear, licking the outside of your shell before whispering.

“Somethin' else down there deserves a reward, right?”

—

My Masterlist || Reblogs, comments, and likes are very much appreciated!! Stay well!!

Do not plagiarize, repost, modify, translate or copy my work.

[bluejaysandblackbats]

Five Little Ducks

Fandom: DC Comics, Batman

Summary: Bruce finds a magically de-aged Jason.

Chapters: 10/13

Characters: Jason Todd, Bruce Wayne, Dick Grayson, Stephanie Brown, Duke Thomas, Zatanna Zatara

Additional Tags: De-Aged Jason Todd, Magic, Babysitting, Father-Son Relationship, Fluff and Angst, POV Third Person, Bruce Wayne is Not Okay, Bruce Wayne Tries, Jason Todd Has Issues, Childhood Trauma, TW: Self Harm

Chapter Ten: Tucked In

Jason wandered into Bruce's ballroom, where he found a box of records. Jason dug through them until he found something he liked and climbed the steps to meet the record player at the top of the stage. The table was too high to reach, so Jason stood on his tiptoes to play the record. It was a soft jazz record, something his mother would've liked. He stepped down from the stage and pretended to dance with someone while he sang to himself in the gentlest of undertones. He nearly forgot where he was, and in his moment of comfort, he sang a bit louder. Bruce crept in as far as the doorway, listening to the sweet boyish sound of Jason's voice. Jason glanced up, noticing Bruce in the doorway, and staggered back.

"No, I'm sorry. Please don't stop on my account... You've got a lovely voice," Bruce whispered. Jason rubbed his arm as he glanced at his feet. "I can leave-."

"It's-. People say I sound like a girl... And I got beat up for joining the choir at the church... My dad says that I've gotta start toughening up. The neighborhood we live in is too rough for me to be so soft," Jason mumbled. Bruce frowned.

"Jason, I-. You can't change who you are because of where you live. You're so unique, and no one should take that from you," Bruce stated thoughtfully. "Jason... You are a beautiful soul. I feel a baffling amount of joy being around you. You're fantastic." Jason chewed his lip as tears forced their way down his cheeks. "You can hug me."

Jason wrung his hands and shook his head. Bruce sighed and crouched near Jason, wiping the boy's tears away. "You're holding it all in, and I don't like that... It's alright. I've got nothing but time for your feelings," Bruce reassured. Jason met his eyes with Bruce's, and he took a breath, almost holding it in. Bruce took Jason's hands. He embraced Jason, and Jason let out a sob. "Good... Let it out."

Bruce held Jason until the crying stopped, and when he tried to pull away, he felt Jason's weight. "Oh, you're all tuckered out," Bruce whispered. He carried the young boy upstairs and tucked him in. He swept Jason's bangs out of his face and smiled. "I'm so proud of you."

"Is this your Jason?" Dick questioned.

Bruce turned to him. "When did you get here?" Bruce asked. "And no, he's not my Jason, but we're almost there. He's ten."

"He's exhausted. What'd your ten-year-old do today?" Dick asked.

"We went on a nice drive, had a rewarding talk, and came home. He likes Minecraft. A lot. We ordered a pizza and played checkers... Then I fell asleep and woke up to him singing and dancing in the ballroom," Bruce whispered.

"I got you something," Dick whispered. He walked over and clipped a tracking device onto Jason's collar. "Don't thank me, though. That was Barbara."

"Dick, don't let this go to your head... Please give me a hug," Bruce whispered. Dick smiled and embraced Bruce. "I wish I was a better father to all of you... You kids deserved so much more than what you got from me."

"Let's go talk downstairs. He'll be okay," Dick whispered. Bruce nodded. Bruce and Dick shared the rest of the leftover pizza. "What are you gonna do when he's back to normal? Are you gonna talk to him about this?"

"What if he can't remember?" Bruce whispered. "What if it all resets, and he doesn't know how hard I've tried to fix things?"

"Did you learn anything?" Dick asked.

Jason flipped off the stair rail, and Bruce hopped over the couch to get to him. "Jason!" Bruce hollered. Dick ran up the stairs and pulled the boy up. Jason started laughing.

"Jesus Christ!" Dick chastised him. "He had a harness attached to him, Bruce."

Bruce's shoulders dropped, and he ran upstairs. He took Jason in his arms and held him close. "Why would you do that?" Bruce asked. Jason shrugged, and his face changed. "I'm not mad at you... I'm not... You scared me." Bruce set Jason down and messed up his hair. "It's okay... It's-. You're thirteen years old... Why are you thirteen? What's wrong?"

Jason furrowed his brows. "I was thirteen yesterday, too," Jason whispered. "Am I not supposed to be thirteen?" Bruce crouched and held Jason's face in his palms.

"Are you feeling alright?" Bruce asked.

Jason nodded. "Who is he?" Jason whispered as he glanced at Dick.

"That's my older son, Dick. He was Robin before you... He's your big brother," Bruce introduced gently. He nudged Jason. "Dick, this is my son, Jason. He's thirteen years old."

Jason looked up at Dick and smiled. "Do you-? Is it okay-?"

"It's nice to meet you," Dick replied, "How do you like being Robin?"

Jason smiled. "I love it," Jason replied, "You don't mind me being Robin?" Dick shook his head. "Do you wanna go on patrol with us tonight? Bruce, can he?"

Bruce thought about Jason in costume, and he froze up. "Jason, I-."

"Please," Jason whispered. Bruce wanted to say no, but he couldn't. He nodded. "Cool! I'm gonna go get dressed!"

Jason darted off, leaving Dick and Bruce alone. "Don't worry, nothing's gonna happen to him," Dick whispered, "Besides, I think I know what happened to him at this age. This one's on me, Bruce."

"What?" Bruce questioned.

"Trust me... I'll be nice," Dick whispered.

"Are you admitting that you know how to be nice?" Bruce teased.

"Ha. Ha. Try to keep up, old man," Dick replied as he joined Jason in the cave. Jason jumped into Bruce's arms.

Bruce wrapped his arms around Jason. "Are you coming with us?" Jason asked.

"Not tonight, but I'll make you some cocoa when you get home," Bruce whispered, "I'll be on comms if you need me... Or if you feel like talking." He set Jason down and crouched in front of him. "I love you."

Jason's smile faded. "What'd you say?" Jason asked.

"I love you... And I mean it," Bruce whispered.

"I love you too, Bruce," Jason replied, hugging Bruce and hopping into the Batmobile before they could exchange any more words.

"Drive safe," Bruce warned Dick. Dick nodded.

"I'll bring him home before three," Dick replied, "And I'll keep a close eye on him."

"Don't let him fall asleep," Bruce added, "And don't snap at him... He only wants to impress you. Try to remember that tonight."

"Alright... I gotta go-."

"I meant what I said, Dick. You deserved better," Bruce interrupted.

"I wouldn't change a thing," Dick replied, "But if I knew there were magic spells you could use to get the model-dad Bruce experience, I probably would've done it by now."

[aestheticsmore]

lucemond fanfic in progress (sorta)

TW: Gorey details, Major Character Death

"Are you tormented by the memories?" Lucerys whispers from the end of the bed, "Do you remember all the ways I've harmed you but still realize it was not worth it?"

"Stop talking! I hate you!" Aemond yells out. 'He's not real, he's not there, he deserved it, you wanted to do it.' He tries to tell himself. To put himself in control.

"Hated. You hated me. You despised me really. I was the object of your ire. I was everything that you hated. But it's all gone now. I'm gone, I'm dead. You killed me." Lucerys states, moving closer to Aemond.

Aemond finally looks at him, looks at what he has done. Lucerys doesn't look like a ghost, he looks real. And dead. Aemond can hear the water drip onto the floor where Lucerys is standing. Or is that blood?

There is no way of knowing, nothing is hitting the ground even though Aemond is following the drops and hearing them hit, it disappears right before his eyes.

"I am dead, Uncle. You should happier than ever. You got my eye, the eye you've always wanted, the eye you were owed." Lucerys says as he gets right in front of Aemond, standing directly next to where he is sitting in bed.

Aemond can see him more clearly now, see his face. He is missing an eye but he also seems to be missing almost half of his face. Where the right side of his face should be is shredded up flesh and a gaping whole where his eye and brow bone should be. Blood is pouring down his face onto his clothes and the floor. Aemond just stares at the hole and listens to the dripping of blood on the floor.

The dripping gets louder and louder by the second.

"I am sorry that I wasn't able to give it you. I wasn't in the position to give it you. I'm sure you can check to see if Vhagar has it, maybe it got stuck between her teeth." Lucerys says, smiling at the end. Aemond would be upset if he wasn't distracted with the dead boy standing in front of him.

"What do you want Lucerys?" Aemond says, turning his gaze to the rest of Lucerys' body, hoping to forget about the gaping hole staring at him. He does not find that comfort. He is faced with Lucerys' bloody stump of an arm. His forearm is gone, ripped to shreds and the blood pouring onto the ground.

Aemond stares at the blood as it hits the ground and disappears.

"I just wanted to see how you were doing Uncle. Did you miss me? I've seem to be the only thing on your mind as of late, so I thought why not and surprise you. Give your mind a little break on how I might be doing." Lucerys states, smirking down at Aemond.

"I look a lot worse than you could've imagined right? What were you thinking? That I was ripped to shreds, like Arrax?" Lucerys asks. Aemond looks at him, staring at the harm he has caused him.

Suddenly becoming enraged, Lucerys spits out "Or were you hoping that I didn't suffer? That I fell to my death, unscathed, after your war dragon chewed me up and spit me out? Is that what you were hoping for uncle? Is that what you were praying to your false gods for?"

[poorly-drawn-akira]

"I'm very sorry about the chain, Eijiwo," Lorelei's perfect, plump lips pursed into a frown, "but I can't have you hurting yourself. You're such a teeny little thing, and you're very sick, and you're very fragile, even for a human." Eijiro didn't answer, he carefully watched Lorelei from the pile of cushions and blankets. It wasn't uncomfortable, aside from the shackle at his leg. That was the worst part. She'd swaddled him up in comfortable blankets, honestly the softest, silkiest blankets he'd ever touched it was like clouds, and she'd padded it with several plush cushions and pillows. It was nicer than any bed he'd ever slept in. The demoness reclined on the floor and carefully scooped him into her lap, not like Eijiro could really get away from her. She had a whole plate loaded with cookies and tea and little sandwiches and all sorts of things. She smiled warmly down at the boy. Eijiro was aware that he was salivating just a little. "Come on~. Just a little bite. You haven't eaten yet. You're a hungry baby, aren't you~?" She gently placed a cookie on his head. Eijiro took it off. He considered it. It was still warm. Oatmeal... Just oatmeal.... She must have gone through the house. She wouldn't know any other way. One bite and it would be over. He'd lose his free will like he had before. He'd never want to leave. "Mommy" would take care of him. He'd never want for anything again. He'd never think about any of his problems at school, with making friends, his arm, Darius, Sasori, or... or... Eijiro put the sweet on the floor and pushed it away. "... i-i want to guh-go home..." "Oooooh, please eat something, sweet boy," Lorelei pouted, "It's been a few days... That's not good for someone like you!" Eijiro curled up in the blankets and tried to fall asleep. "Eijiwo..." The boy let out a surprised squeak as the demoness shook him gently. She hadn't been so insistent before, but she looked down at him with concern, "If I go buy you something from the human world, in the package, so you know I didn't do anything to it, will you eat for Mommy?" The proposal caught Eijiro off guard, part of him screamed to not do it, but the part that was starving after ignoring the succubus's offerings for the past few days was screaming louder. Plus he'd need energy to escape. Yeah, yeah, yeah this would benefit him in the long run, "yuh-yes. yes, i-i'll eat." "Ooohoohoo~!" Lorelei clapped her hands, "There's my sweet boy! I'll go get you something right away!" She planted a kiss on Eijiro's cheek before leaving him alone in his room. ... Eijiro considered his situation, the chain around his leg... Chew it off.      Boy should chew it off.   Don’t need another leg.      Don't like her. "... whuh-where were you whuh-when she was snuggling with muh-me? whuh-we could have taken her out." No good.   No good.   Just make her mad.     Still chained up even if it would. Eijiro heaved a sigh as he sank down into his little pile. He'd at least get some food in him before he made another escape attempt.

[chrisevansredbelt]

Lamb to the Slaughter

pairing: dark!steve rogers x naive!agent!reader

warnings: DUBCON! SMUT! reader is very naive, booksmart but sexually naive. oral (m receiving), fingering, p in v sex. kinda grooming i guess. very dubious consent.

read at your own discretion please. 18+ only.

summary: steve takes a liking to you and your naivety. he also takes advantage of it.

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*･ﾟ☆

That was probably the best physical part about you. Your ass. Your tits were nice too, but the way your ass sat so nicely in your suit and in any pants really. Well, your tits also sat nicely. But your ass was just phenomenal.

Oh, how Steve wished he could just lay his head down on them like pillows after a long, hard day or bury his face between your legs and grip your ass so hard-

“Captain?” You yell a little louder now, and that’s when he kind of blinks himself out of whatever trance he was in. It was strange, he was looking down at you- but he wasn’t hearing a word you said.

“Sorry-“ He mumbles, “Sorry, uh-“He turns to the toolbox propped on the metal table, “What did you need?”

“The screw?” You point to the screw on the floor which had fallen out of his grip. You would’ve grabbed it yourself had you not been cramped inside of a small hole in the wall to fix the electrical circuit.

“Oh, right.” Steve bends to pick it up, practically at eye level with your ass now as you’re on all fours in the small space. You reach your hand behind you to retrieve the tool as he places it in your hand, “Sorry.”

He quickly regains his composure, standing upright and cursing himself for getting caught. The moment he saw the outline of your little g string through the fabric of your suit, he had dropped the tool. The loud clang of it against the metal floor not enough to pull him back out of that trance. Little innocent you, wearing a g-string. Maybe you weren’t as innocent as he thought. And then he thought of all the things you had probably let some fuck boy do to you… and all the things he could do better.

“It’s okay.” You forgive him, offering him a sympathetic look from the small glimpse of his tired face that you got through the small crowded space you were situated in, “Long day?” You ask, before going back to the board.

“You could say that.” You hear him say after a heavy sigh.

“I can imagine.” You reply, “Must be so hard being Captain.”

“Sometimes.” He shrugs, a smile playing at his lips as he tilts his head to get a better view of your panties through your suit, “But it’s rewarding.” He adds, eyes never leaving your ass that’s on full display for him right now.

“Not worth losing sleep over though.” You quirk, shining your torch on one of the chewed up wires. Rats? Tony Stark can afford all the gadgets in the world, yet he can’t control rats?

“Definitely not.” Steve sighs, “But it’s my job.”

Deciding that this electrical job needs much more than a simple repair, you start shuffling backwards out of the little tunnel, “Well, if you ever need help with any paperwork or anything-“ You say, bracing yourself as you’re greeted with much fresher air. When your feet reach the ground, you kind of sit back on your heels, on your knees in front of Steve as you catch your breath. Steve just about had a heart attack as you so innocently kneel before him. You smile up at him before tucking a few stray hairs behind your ear and continuing your sentence, “If it’s appropriate, I’m happy to help out?”

He gives you a tight lipped smile, looking down- almost blushing as he nods, “That’s very kind of you. I’ll let you know.”

You nod in response, before getting back to the task at hand, “Rats have chewed through the cables- I don’t think we should put any in until we get rid of them.”

Steve just nods, your words going in one ear and out the other however as he clasps his hands in front of him over his raging hard on.

-

“Uh, so if you just um- get on your knees,” You oblige so willingly, dropping to your knees in front of Steve and peaking under the dashboard of the quinjet, “You’ll be able to see it.”

You crane your neck a little to examine the fuse box and electrical circuit all hidden behind a dark plastic panel, “Oh yeah,” You hum, “So many buttons.”

“It’s big, huh?” Steve adds, smiling to himself.

“Yeah,” You scoff. Big was hardly the word for it. You look over it for a few more seconds, then at the sheet of your test paper. Fuses, alternator, corrosion. Those were the three tasks you were given to find and fix all on your own. Even through the plastic shield that showcased the electrical units of the jet, you were confident in completing all three, “Okay, I know what to do.” You nod up at Steve and get comfortable on your knees, “Ready to be my tool bearer?”

Steve snorts, “As I’ll ever be.” He jokes, handing you the screwdriver you almost always need at the beginning of these engineering exams. You get to work immediately, wasting no time so as to hit that criteria. Steve eyes the cockpit jet seat behind him, pulling the tool box of the dash board before asking, “Mind if I sit?”

You look up at him, then back to the chair before laughing a little, “Go for your life.” You tell him sarcastically. He smiles down at you and takes a seat and you look at him over your shoulder, “You have to treat yourself every once in a while, Captain.”

He just huffs softly, watching as you turn back around and work on the engine in front of you- yet again giving Steve the most perfect view of your ass, “Yeah, I do.”

-

It should be illegal for you to wear such an outfit to the gym. It’s no different from any other gym outfit that he’s seen worn by his female team and other female agents. But it’s the fact that you’re the one wearing it, so oblivious to its effect on your Captain.

Scheduled supervised gym times is probably Steve’s favourite place to be. Well, the rare evaluations every once in a while where he has one-on-one time definitely tops it in a heartbeat. But those are hardly often.

Besides, during those times you always opted for much more comfortable gym attire- which basically meant Steve had to use his imagination a little bit more than usual.

“Who’s got you wrapped around their finger?” Bucky breaks Steve out of his thoughts, sitting next to him on one of the benches in the gym as he joins Steve in supervising the training agents, “You’re all spacey.”

Steve just scoffs, shaking his head, “You’re too observant.”

Bucky smirks, “But I’m right?”

Steve just nods subtly, squinting his eyes at you a little- internally deciding if he really wants to tell Bucky. A small part of him just wants to keep you all to himself, because Steve knows damn well that if he tells Bucky- he’ll probably want in. Not that Steve isn’t down to share with his best friend- you were just different.

Steve wanted you all to himself.

But nonetheless, Bucky was his best friend. And Steve would do everything in his power to keep him away from you if Bucky were to show interest.

“See that agent?” Steve mumbles lowly, just enough so that if someone were to walk by, they wouldn’t hear.

Bucky follows Steve’s gaze over to a lone agent. She’s by her duffel, drinking from her water bottle. Some of it misses her mouth- or overflows- and spills down her chin and eventually down her cleavage. Huh, she’s cute.

Both Steve and Bucky catch the moment. And while Steve is more dumbstruck, Bucky just laughs a little, typical Steve’s type- naive.

“A recruit, hey?” He first teases- the age difference a literal slap in the face. Steve just sighs, subtly readjusting his pants so as not to display his hard on, “Okay, I see it.” Bucky nods understandingly as he watches you some more. Bucky knew you, of course, having trained you in a lot of your combat and weaponry courses. You really are a breath of fresh air- that’s the best way he could describe you. Sweet smile, sweeter laugh, best ass.

“She’s so naive.” Steve marvels, “Had her on her knees for about an hour while she worked on the engine, saying all kinds of things that went over her head.”

Bucky smiles at the thought. He decided to keep to himself how he was able to spar with you himself once, let you win and had you on top of him straddling his waist. Or how close he gets to you when handling your weapons. Hey, you’ve gotta learn one way or another.

Instead, Bucky tells him something else. Something not as incriminating for him, but rather… for everyone else.

“All the boys hit on her.”

Steve almost gets whiplash from how fast he turns around to look at Bucky, “Who?” He asks with deeply furrowed brows.

“All of them.” Bucky shrugs, nodding to where they all stand and where you have rejoined them. Steve takes particular note on how all the boys stare down at your chest as you talk and laugh with them, “During their combat training, they call her sweet cheeks. Said it’s because of her smile.”

Steve watches with daggers in his eyes as Bucky’s point is proven. As you walk off with two other female agents towards the treadmills, all the boys stare shamelessly at your ass- chatting amongst themselves after all giddy.

“Bullshit.” Steve mutters

“I’m saying.” Bucky scoffs. The pair are silent as they watch you on the treadmill, the way your hips sway effortlessly as you take each step, “She’s a virgin, you know?” Again, Steve’s head almost loses control and screws off as he whips his head around to look at Bucky, who just shrugs, “They all tease her for it.”

Steve swore he heard wedding bells at that. So you’re a virgin after all.

The two super soldiers remain on that bench for the rest of the session, every so often glancing at other members of the team of recruits, but mostly focusing their attention on you.

In doing so, Steve was silently conjuring up a plan.

As Bucky announced that their training session was over and that they were free to go, Steve got to his feet.

Everyone was on their way out, and as you throw your duffel over your shoulder, you were glad to have finally finished. You couldn’t wait to retreat back to your room and have a nice, long bath-

“Agent L/N,” You turn at the sound of your name, called by an all too familiar voice. You smile up at your Captain despite the uneasy look he gives you with authrotitative hands on his hips, “Could you stay back a minute?”

“Yeah, sure,” You gives your friends a small smile as they leave without you. You wait patiently in front of Steve as he seemingly waits for everyone to leave until it is just the two of you left in the gym, “Is everything okay?” You ask once the final person leaves- the silence wracking your nerves.

He sighs heavily, looking down and God, you’re nervous. You don’t know any better, and from the looks of it, you must be in trouble.

“You’re a great agent,” He starts off and you blink at him a little before softly smiling, “You’re flying through the course and passing every exam. You’re smart, you’re kind.”

“Thank you, Captain.” You feel your cheeks heat up a little at the myriad of compliments he had just given you.

He just gives you a tight lip smile however as he goes to continue, he looks down to the floor and purses his lips with a heavy sigh, “Those boys, not so much.” Your smile falters a little, shocked to hear your Captain speak softly openly and negatively about his recruits, “They seem to treat this course just as some kind of badge for their resume. They don’t take it as serious as you do.” You smile softly at the subtle compliment, but don’t know if it’s the right reaction, “From what I’ve seen, Y/N, I’m not too sure they’re good for you to hang around.” You look up at him now with slightly sad eyes and he’s quick to explain (and hold the moan), “You get all distracted and a lot of the time, they’re just flirting with you. And I’m not telling you who you can and can’t be friends with, but I’d just hate for this opportunity to get taken away from you just because you got wooed by one of them airheads.”

“Oh,” Is all you can say after a short moment of silence, “I-I never realised they were doing that.” You shake your head, cheeks heating up at the thought of all those boys flirting with you. You always thought they were nice, but you never thought they were flirting! To be perfectly honest though, you wouldn’t know flirting if it killed you. Your Captains words swirled all through your head- and you frowned slightly at the thought of disappointing him. You didn’t get in trouble- and certainly not at the expense of some boys, “Well, what do you think I should do?” You ask, “I want to follow your advice, but I don’t want to hurt their feelings by not talking to them anymore.”

Steve doesn’t know why he’s so surprised that his plan worked- I mean look at you. He smiles now, changing his whole demeanour now that he has you right where he wants you, “If you accept, I have a- kind of excuse for you to steer clear of them.” You nod eagerly up at him, prompting him continue, “Be my assistant.” He shrugs, “You can help me out with my paperwork up at my office and I don’t know- maybe you can even join Tony and Bruce in the labs if you like.” He offers and your eyes light up, “So, if they do ever approach you, you can just say you’re too busy to talk.” He adds.

“Okay.” You hardly hesitate to accept the offer, “I’ll do it.”

“Great.” He smiles, “I’ll send you an email with the forms you need to fill out and come Monday, you’ll probably join me in my office for the day.” You nod once more and Steve nods in return, “Have a nice night, Y/N.”

You turn to leave, but stop yourself and spin right back around, Steve unmoving and raising a curious brow, “When you did passing every exam, does that mean I passed the engine exam?” You ask with a slight smirk on your face.

Steve laughs softly, scanning the room quickly before nodding and giving you you’re unreleased result, “Of course you did.”

As you turn back around with the biggest smile on your face, Steve can’t help the smile that breaks out on his own.

He had you right where he wants you. And now it’s only a matter of time.

-

Being Steve’s assistant was probably the best decision you’ve made.

And yes… you got to call him Steve now. It felt so strange at first, felt too informal considering he was now both your boss and Captain. But you both agreed it was even weirder to constantly call him Captain and Mr. Rogers when you would spend practically every working hour together.

And that’s what being his assistant was. When you weren’t fulfilling your training duties, you were helping him out. Paperwork, grading, organising his schedule, picking up his lunch- at one point you even did his laundry.

And it really did work in keeping you away from the boys. You still talked to them every so often, but it was only ever very small talk.

Anyways, every day that you weren’t training, you would meet with Steve at his office at 8AM on the dot. From there you would deliberate on the new day- or if he’d given you a task to do overnight, you’d present it to him then.

Which is what happened last night. You were to input all of the data and Steve’s notes of each recruit and their progress, grades and comments into one big table-spreadsheet thing.

It sounded like a lot, but was actually very easy and you had it done in no time, printed out and alphabetically sorted in a neat pile in your arm as you approached Steve’s office.

Coming up his doors, you stopped dead in your tracks, however, when you heard a few pained grunts coming from within. You furrowed your brows softly and held your ear up against the door. The noise persisted and you worried a little for your Captain. He sounded hurt?

Glancing at the time, it was 8:00AM on the dot. Not wanting to end up even a minute late you knocked on the wooden door to Steve’s office four times before stepping back and waiting. The pained grunts seemingly stopped after your last knock and he cleared his throat. You then heard a soft thump and lot of shuffling before his feet were trudging towards the door.

The door swings open and there stands a puffed out Steve.

“Morning,” You say softly, and before he can greet you back, you ask, “Are you feeling okay, Steve? I heard noises-“

“Yeah, fine, Y/N. Thank you.” He chokes out. He’s totally unconvincing though as his hair is a little disheveled and he seems… exhausted? Nevertheless, he stands to the side and opens the door wider for you, “Come in,”

As you enter the office and brush past him, you quite literally feel his body heat radiate off of him and you persist in ensuring he’s feeling okay, “Are you sure you’re okay?” You place your hand upon his forehead and gasp softly at the heat of his skin, “You’re burning up.”

“No, I’m fine, Y/N.” He shakes his head. You still don’t believe him- and he knows it. He has to stop himself from smiling too hard at how naive you are. Instead he just smiles softly and holds out his pinky for you, “Promise.” You smile down at his pinky now. You still don’t believe him… not fully, but still, you entwine your pinkies together, “Got my papers?” He then asks and you nod, handing him the stack that rests in your arms.

You observed Steve closely for a good 10 minutes as he scanned over the documents. You pretended to work on something on your laptop, but you were mostly stealing long glances up at the man before you- who clearly seemed to have something wrong with him.

Whether he was sick, in pain, tired- you couldn’t tell- probably all three even. But Steve would never let anyone know that- not on purpose anyway. Which is why, as he shifts in his seat for about the 7th time in the last few minutes with a strained expression on his face, you shut your laptop and face him.

“Steve, are you sure you’re okay?” You ask, placing a hand on his arm- before he can respond you cut him off and say, “There’s something wrong and I know you’re too stubborn to take the day off, so is there nothing I can do? Anything at all?”

He sighs softly, “You know me too well.”

You shrug, “It’s kind of my job.” You got really close to Steve after taking up this job- that was never really the plan (not for you at least) but it was basically inevitable. And you’re actually really glad it turned out that way because Steve was just great.

As your rub his arm softly, Steve caves. How can he not? His plan has worked yet again. He was going to drag it out a bit more- maybe wait until the end of the day- that way his unfinished orgasm from when he had edged himself under his desk this morning before you and knocked would be so good.

But he has to give in. With the way you’re rubbing his arm and staring up at him, in your little office outfit that has been driving him crazy for the past few weeks. He has to.

Putting his act back up, he sighs again, “It’s just my-“ You lean closer, almost eager to hear him admit his illness. But Steve just shakes his head and cuts himself off, “You’re just gonna think it’s gross.”

“I won’t!” You shake your head, squeezing his arm, “I had to bunk with the boys on that one mission, I can’t imagine anything more gross.” You try and joke, but it does little to make Steve actually laugh. He fakes one, of course, but on the inside he’s furious.

He could only imagine the jokes and innuendos that flew over your head when you had bunked with those foul boys. And so help them if they had even laid a finger on you.

“Well,” Steve begins, before looking down at the concealed tent in his pants and then up at you, “My cock really hurts.”

You blink dumbly at him, accidentally casting your eyes down to his crotch before quickly looking back up at him, “Oh,” Is all you manage to let out. You weren’t expecting that.

“I’m not sure why. It’s been aching all morning.”

You take your hand of his arm and Steve panics a little. Holding both of your hands in your lap, your furrow your brows, “I-I’m not really sure how I can help…”

“I know how,” Steve says, a little too eagerly but you don’t notice. He takes note of the way your head shoots up, almost willing to hear what he has to say… okay, good… so you’re not completely grossed out- still just as naive as ever, “But only if you’re okay with it?”

You nod, “What is it?”

“Kiss it better.” Steve says. You search his face for any kind of sarcasm, but even though you come up empty handed, you still smile softly- a laugh beginning to break out. Steve mirrors your smile, “I’m serious, it really works. Female saliva is like a painkiller for it.” He quickly lies.

“Really?” You ask, amazed and too gullible for your own good, “So should I spit on it?” You ask innocently and Steve swears he could’ve cum in his pants right there.

He swallows a thick breath, “You’ll have to spread it around as well.” He nods, hands going to his belt and unbuckling it. As he pulls his fly down and pulls out his aching, hard cock that he had tugged into the waist band of his boxers to conceal his boner, he doesn’t miss the way your eyes light up at the sight of him, “See how it’s red and hard- it need to be soft.”

You nod understandingly, “Oh, I think I heard the boys talk about this happening to them on the mission.” You say absentmindedly as you go back to stroking his arm soothingly.

But it does little to help this time. Steve sees red.

“You didn’t touch any of their cocks, did you?” He asks you firmly and if you didn’t know any better, you would’ve thought he was mad at you.

“No,” You shake your head, a little confused as to why that would be such a bad thing. After all, you’re about to touch Steve’s- and you would only be helping them, right?

“Good girl.” He nods, and you feel a few butterflies in your stomach at his praise- you could never tire of Steve’s praises- and he knew that, “So, get on your knees,” Steve instructs and you hop off your chair and slide to the ground, onto your knees. You naturally just slot yourself between his spread legs, propping yourself up on his thighs as he holds his cock closer to your mouth. You won’t lie- it looks very intimidating and you’re a little nervous, but you trust Steve with your life, “Kiss it better first.” He orders and you picked your lips and kiss the head of it. Steve throws his head back a little and you continue to kiss down the underside of it, nearly giving Steve a heart attack, “Fuck-“

You pull away as he curses, looking up at him with furrowed brows, “Did I do something wrong?” You ask nervously.

One of his hands comes down to tuck a stray hair out of your face and behind your ear as he shakes his head, “It was perfect.” With the same hand, he guides it behind your head, “Now, open your mouth,” You open your mouth slightly and Steve chuckles a little, “Wider than that.” You widen your mouth, “Good, now stick out your tongue.” You do so tentatively, sticking out your tongue fir their and further as Steve nods. Once he’s satisfied with the length of your tongue, he slaps his cock down onto it a few times. You’re a little confused, but let he do what he obviously knows is best. “Now spit on it.” He says, practically reading your body as you retreat your tongue and find a well of saliva already conjured up in your mouth. You spit it onto the tip of Steve’s dick, mouth nudging the tip slightly, “Good.” You both watch it leak over the head and once it reaches a vein, Steve nods, “Spread it around with your-“ You don’t know what came over you, but you just started licking it up and spreading it around with your warm, wet tongue. It just… felt right, “Oh God, keep going- Fuck.”

You swirl your tongue all around him, over his head and down his shaft- wanting to cover every inch of his cock so that he’d feel better.

Steve can’t take it anymore. He was going to ease you into it, but he can’t. The kitten licks are driving him insane and if he waits any longer, he’ll cum all over your face. He doesn’t want that- he wants to cum in your mouth.

So, with his hands cradling your head, he bucks himself into your mouth. You gasp around him, almost choking as he intrudes into your mouth but he shushes you softly and guided you through it, “Just relax.” He coos and nod softly, relaxing your mouth around him as he begins a gentle thrust inside your mouth, “That’s it.”

Steve takes pity on you and only goes as deep as you can fit him. He doesn’t want to gag you- not yet. He’s worried that would only scare you off and that’s the last thing he wants. No, he needs to train you- train your throat to take him as far down as he can.

Your nimble hands squeeze Steve’s thighs every so often when he shoves himself back in and he has to bite his lip so as to not smile. Instead, he just takes that as his sign to praise you even more- he knew how much you loved it.

As he sets a pace, fucking into your face, he already feels himself teetering on the edge of his orgasm- having already started it a few minutes prior so it was no surprise it had arrived so quick.

And as Steve looks down properly at your whimpering form, eyes doed up at him- just waiting for his praises- spit spilling from the corners of your open mouth and tears threatening to spill over your lash line, Steve is done for. A sight he could only dream of- makes him cum in seconds.

He groans as he feels it shoot out of his cock. With his hands still behind your head, he feels your resistance as you try and pull away at the newfound experience of his cum hitting the back of your throat, “It’s okay, take it.” He quickly encourages, “It’s just giving you back all the fluids you gave me.” You nod weakly and unsure, but stay nevertheless and take every last drop.

Once it stops and Steve pulls his cock out of your mouth, you swallow it all down.

Well, Steve certainly didn’t expect that. He had mostly expected you to spit some of it out- was getting ready to tell you a little white lie on how it was good for your body and that you shouldn’t have wasted it.

Which is why he had picked you up off the floor almost instantly, placing you on top of his disk and kissed you. He kissed you! You were frozen in place, but you still let him do it.

Only when he broke away did you finally say something, “Steve-“ You didn’t know much about sex- that mcuh was clear, but you definitely knew that kissing was inappropriate- kissing your captain nonetheless! “Captain, wh-“

“It’s okay- Do you trust me?” He asks you, seeming to totally brush past the fact that he just kissed you! Your hesitation is evident as you look around the room nervously. So you nod softly. “You said you wanted to make me feel better, right?” Steve continues and you nod again- this time more confidently because you were sure of that. You only ever wanted to please Steve… that was kind of like your goal in life… “So then relax.”

Steve kisses you once more and this time you return it. Your lack of experience is telling but it only eggs him on even more.

Distracted by the kiss, you don’t even register how his hands have found their way to your little skirt, pushing it up higher over your thighs.

Only when the cold air meets your revealed cunt do you pull away from the kiss and attempt to close your legs around Steve hands that has his hand buried in your skirt.

You look up at him nervously, and he’s quick to reassure you, “Sh, it’s okay.” And eases your thighs back open.

His fingers meet with your clit and you tense up. Why are you wet? Why now? You have gotten wet a bunch of times before, but why now? Of all the times.

You dip your head in embarrassment as Steve smiles. You’re wet! His fingers slide easily through your folds and you whimper at the sensation. Before you can ask Steve why you feel this way, he’s shoving two fingers into your right, wet hole.

“Steve!” You squeal, clenching tightly around his fingers- making his cock twitch in the air.

“You’re such a good girl. You’re doing so good.” He praises and it works for him like a charm as you become putty in his hold.

Once he deems he’s stretched you out enough, he pulls his fingers out and rubs your little clit with his thumb. You rest your head against his shoulder, eyes falling shut as it sends tingles all through your body.

Again, Steve takes your moment of distraction to take hold of his cock and bring it closer to your weeping cunt sitting at the edge of his desk.

When the head nudges your entrance, you furrow your brows and open your eyes- but before you can question anything, Steve is shoving his cock inside of you.

You cry out, nails digging into his arm, “Steve, that hurts,”

You weakly look up to meet Steve’s gaze as he stills inside you. You pulse around him uncontrollably and it makes Steve feral.

“That’s not how you address me.” He says firmly, and you whimper at his new attitude. He’s mad at you, you’ve done something wrong and you must fix it.

“I’m sorry, Captain, please,” You cry as he begins pulling out. You feel a bit of relief at the familiar empty feeling, breathing deeply and both watching as his cock head is visible again. “Please,” You hardly know what you’re begging for. You don’t want it to stop, but you don’t want it to continue.

Steve locks his eyes with yours as he pushes back in- this time it’s much slower and you can’t tell whether that helps or not. You control your breathing to see if that helps and it surprisingly does as when you open up your eyes once more, he’s fully sheathed inside of you again and you hardly remember it being as bad as that first time.

“God, you’re so tight,” He says, burying his face in your neck and inhaling your sweet maple scent, “Don’t think I’m gonna last long,” He laughs.

You don’t exactly know what to respond, or really what any of his words mean, so you kind of just smile weakly.

“Okay, I’m gonna go a little bit faster now,” He says, standing to his full height and firmly grasping your hips. You look at him terrified, but know better. You trust your Captain- and this is supposed to make him feel better… and you kind of feel nice too. At the hesitant look on your face, he brings himself down to kiss you once again- putting you in a momentary trance as he pulls out and begins a steady thrust.

You whine into his mouth, unable to continue the kiss and he smiles against your lips before pulling away and quickening his thrusts.

“Ah, Captain!” You gasp, “It burns.” You heave, clenching so tightly around him Steve genuinely worried for the safety of his cock.

“Tell me when,” He says, unrelenting in his thrusts as you cry beneath him.

“There.” You say, the moment his head shoved through your hole. Steve takes note and now, whenever his head pushes past, he makes sure to rub your clit extra hard. You moan at the feeling of his thumb rubbing you- cancelling out the burn of his cock with pleasure that courses through you, “Ah-“

“Feel better?” He asks, a small smile on his fucked our face as he continues his ruthless thrusts.

You nod meekly, unable to for any words right now as your body adjusts to his thick cock. Pain turns into pleasure and you’re quickly relaxing around him, wrapping your legs around his waist.

And true to his word, Steve isn’t lasting much longer. It only escalated when you relaxed around him, your body finally recognising how much you were made for Steve, wrapping around him in all the right places- like a key in a lock.

Steve’s hood stutter a little and you whine as his cock twitches inside you several times. He curses above you and you’re a little confused until you feel a warmth full you up. It’s a very strange feeling, it almost tickles a little as Steve paints your insides with his hot, white cum.

Steve’s thrusts have slowed a little as he kisses your neck, and you begin working your hips to meet his to regain that fast pace he once had. You feel something building inside of you- you’re not sure what it is, but you just know you want more of Steve.

“Please don’t stop Captain.” You beg, tightening your legs around his hips to cage him in.

Steve’s eyes light up at the way you’re now begging- when almost a few minutes ago you were almost crying. As he smiles down at you, he picks up the pace of his hips- uncaring to the overstimulation it gives him.

He rubs your clit much faster now as he thrusts into you and whispers a non-stop praises into your ear.

“Doing so good for me,” He says, “Make me so proud, my pretty girl,” Oh, you just about melt, “You’re gonna cum for me, huh?” He asks, “Can feel it in here, hmm?” He presses down on your stomach a little and you moan much louder, “Oh, you like that? You’re such a good girl,”

It’s too much. His words, his thumb, his cock. You snap- well, not really but you feel something snap inside of you. It feels so good and warm, and your cunt pulses around his cock tenfold.

You gasp a little, so unsure of what you’re feeling, but you’re not complaining. It feel so good.

As Steve guides you down your high, you find yourself kissing his neck softly, leaving a small hickey. Your eyes widen a little at the red mark, unsure if Steve would’ve permitted you to do that. But before you can apologise, he’s pulling out of you slowly and you’re frowning at the emptiness.

“This has to be our little secret.” Steve then says, tucking himself into his pants and zipping them up.

You look up at him curiously, letting him take a tissue and clean you up haphazardly before putting both your panties and skirt back in place.

“Why?” You ask, genuinely unsure, “What if the other boys-“

“No.” The grip on your jaw is threatening and you swallow thickly as you look up into his eyes… they look… darker? “Only. Me.” He says, “Maybe Sargent Barnes if you’re lucky, but until I tell you so, just me. Do you understand?” You nod immediately.

You didn’t know what that meant- also what Sargent Barnes had anything to do with this either. But… you had to trust your Captain. You did trust your Captain.

“Yes, sir.”

Smiling, he softens his grip on your jaw but his hand remains, “Good girl.” He nods, pressing a few small kisses to your lips, “You make me so proud, you know that?”

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*･ﾟ☆

OH.

BUCKYS TURN. PART TWO HERE.

idk if this was as dark as it could b buttttttttt go easy on me i’ve never written dark stuff before!

anyway happy birthday steve

[pasukiyo]

Could I bother you for a part 2 to Go For It? Maybe where reader snaps at some point and then starts avoiding Steve or smth? And he goes to Robin(who knows what went down) for advice only to get chewed out? Up to you whether it ends with angst, fluff, and/or smut!

𝐠𝐨 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐢𝐭. | 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐭𝐰𝐨.

read part one here.

— steve harrington x f!reader

warnings; angst? horrendous writing? very brief smut implication at the beginning

a/n; …I AM SO SO SORRY THAT THIS IS LATE! my week has been absolutely crazy with unexpected things popping up left and right and i just couldn’t find the time to write anything so i am so so sorry for being late 😭 but it’s finally here! did not expect the first part to blow up the way it did so thank you:) i don’t really feel like i did my best on this one so i’m sorry if it’s a little underwhelming

word count; 3.7k

“i heard nance is going to the game tonight.”

 “i saw nancy when she came to pick the boys up from my work earlier.”

 “did you see nancy’s new hair?”

 “god, i just wish i could tell her how beautiful she is like i used to.”

 nancy, nancy, nancy, nancy, nancy.

 it was almost all he could ever talk about these days. she hated how much she came to loathe the girl who had never really done anything to her personally, who had no idea of her affection for her best friend. of course, she could never say no when steve asked her to come over, and although she hated every time nancy’s name fell from his lips, she came right over with no hesitation. 

 “fuck, nancy, right there, baby..”

 her eyelids snapped open, and she gazed up at steve as he hovered over her, his own lids closed in ecstasy as he pounded his hips into hers. she recalled feeling everything and nothing all at once, as if she was caught in a wave, unable to claw her way back to the surface. she remembered feeling numb— since when did he begin to imagine her as someone else entirely in their moments together?

 “steve, stop,” she murmured, her voice hardly above a whisper, too quiet for him to hear over the sound of skin assaulting skin. a string of curses tumbled from steve’s lips as his cock twitched inside of her, but she couldn’t even bring herself to relish the pleasure anymore— she wanted nothing more than to leave, to get away from him. “steve, i said stop!” she spoke much louder and clearer this time, and his eyelids snapped open when she pushed her palms against his chest, his cock sliding out of her as his body plopped on the mattress beside her.

 “shit, did i hurt you?” he questioned as her chest heaved, tears stinging the rims of her sockets as she tried to gain back her composure, to ease the pounding of her heart in her chest and the ringing in her ears. it wasn’t until steve placed a gentle hand on her shoulder that she she back to her senses, and her body tensed beneath his touch, causing him to remove his hand almost instantly. “hey, hey, did i do anything—“

 “i just— i just need to go,” she interrupted, practically scrambling off of his bed as she began a frantic search for her clothes where they had been scattered all across the room, swift to redress herself. steve simply watched from his bed, a wrinkle in his brow as he sat there, dumbfounded. “do you.. do you need me to drive you home? is everything alright? do you need any—“

 “i’m fine,” she managed to emit as she threw on the remainder of her clothes, tossing her bag over her shoulder before making haste towards his bedroom door. she knew steve was calling after her— but she didn’t even care.

 because everything was clear to her now.

 at first, steve may have only proposed the idea of their arrangement as a way to relieve his stress, to feel close and connected to someone when he needed that connection the most. but somewhere down the road, as he became more and more obsessed with getting nancy wheeler back, he found a new way to look at their arrangement. he may not have been able to have nancy wheeler physically, but at least, with someone else, he could pretend.

 the idea made her absolutely sick to her stomach.

 all these years of being second after nancy wheeler, never once did it bother her this much until now. it felt as though someone had reached inside of her chest to rip her heart straight out of it— never did she ever believe that steve harrington would be the one to hold her heart in his hands. 

 nor did she ever believe that steve harrington would be the one to crush her, and leave her to bleed. 

 the walk back to her home felt longer than usual, but when she did eventually get there, she made a beeline for her room, ignoring her parents as they sat in the living room. 

 she couldn’t catch her breath. she threw her bag down on the floor beside her door, kicked her shoes off of her feet, and sunk down onto her mattress. the tears wouldn’t stop flowing from there, her sobs wracked her body as her fingertips did their best to wipe the evidence away from her face, only to come to no avail. 

 why was it so hard to let go of him? why couldn’t she find anyone else to fall in love with, why couldn’t she just forget about steve harrington? 

no matter how hard she tried, it would always be him— he’d always be the one she thought about, the one she dreamt about, the one she yearned for. 

 why hadn’t she gone for him all those years ago? if only she had had the courage to tell him how she felt before high school, before he met nancy wheeler, before nancy turned his entire life— and coincidentally, her’s— upside down. maybe then she wouldn’t be feeling the pain she felt now, maybe then, things would have been different for the better. 

 she clutched the pillow where her head laid, tears streaming down the side of her face and pooling on the plush below. she wasn’t sure when her eyelids finally began to droop, nor when she seemed to slip into the realms of unconsciousness..

 “i just don’t understand. she just.. left. and she left in like.. a hurry, too. she didn’t even talk to me.”

 steve scanned robin’s face as she listened to his reminiscing of last night’s events, his eyes darting from the road beyond and back over to where she sat. she narrowed her eyes as she turned to look over at him, her eyebrows raised to her hairline. “what?”

 steve’s own brow wrinkled and he pouted, “robin! i’m asking you for advice here, since you know,” he gestured towards her with an outstretched palm, “you’re a girl and all.” robin couldn’t suppress her laugh at this, balling her fist and giving him a soft punch to the shoulder. “dude, why’d you say it like that?”

 “robin! can we focus?”

 “god, steve, please don’t tell me you’re actually that dumb?”

 steve blinked, puffing his cheeks out, his brows furrowed in downright confusion. “what are you—“

 “steve! she’s in love with you!” 

 steve blinked again, his foot on the pedal suddenly feeling heavier than usual, the engine of his car revving as they sped up. he suddenly found it hard to breathe as he recalled the night before, the moments leading up to her leaving. in his confused state the night before, he couldn’t seem to recall what had set her off, not until this very moment..

 “goddammit,” he muttered beneath his breath. “i said nancy’s name while we were..”

 “oh my god! oh my god, you are so screwed.”

 his eyelids narrowed over at robin as he turned into the school’s parking lot, swerving to the front entrance where he always dropped her off. he put his car into park and slammed his forehead down onto the steering wheel, his cheeks crimsoning with heat.

 how did he not see it before? how could he not have seen the way she looked at him every time he talked about nancy, how could he not have seen how she didn’t hesitate to drop everything for him, how she didn’t even hesitate to agree to their arrangement?

 the signs were all there in front of him, as clear as crystal, and he still didn’t realize what was happening until it was far too late. he lifted his head and turned towards his best friend in the passenger’s seat, his lips falling agape with the intention of saying something, but words fell short when he caught a glimpse of the girl he knew all too well trudging her way towards the school’s entrance, hugging her books to her chest. 

 “steve,” robin said in warning once she realized who he was looking at, his hands subconsciously slipping down to the buckle of his seatbelt. he pressed the pad of his thumb down onto the red button and tugged on the handle of his door, slipping out of the car before slamming the door shut behind him. he ignored robin’s protests as he jogged over to where she was, her name slipping from his lips. her muscles visibly tensed underneath her blouse when she heard his voice, but before she could slip inside of the school, his hand locked around her upper arm, tugging her back.

 “steve, please, leave me alone,” she murmured, her eyes cowering away from him and all the other people giving them glances. “please, i need to talk to you,” steve whispered, his irises murky with something she couldn’t name, his brows furrowed in sorrow. “i’m sorry. i think i get it now, you—“

 “steve, just stop it,” she hissed this time, snatching her arm away from his grip, adjusting her bag back up onto her shoulder. he called her name again, her jaw tensing and her expression hardening. “you don’t get it, do you hear me? you don’t know how i felt, watching you drive yourself insane over nancy when she already has someone else. you don’t understand what it’s like to feel second to someone else when they haven’t been there like i have, steve. so don’t try and bullshit me and say that you understand, okay?”

 steve was silent. his heart was pounding— how could he have been so blind?

 she blinked the glossiness away from her vision, pinching her bottom lip with her teeth. “i don’t feel like talking about this right now, okay? just, please, leave me alone.”

 and that was that. she pivoted around on her heel and pushed her way inside the school, steve’s lips falling agape, words he wished to say sitting on the tip of tongue but never emitting. robin came up behind him, circling around him to give him a look. “i tried to tell you it wouldn’t go well,” she said. “just give her space. i think you really hurt her, steve.”

 robin gave his bicep a soft squeeze before she, too, left him to enter the school, and steve stuffed his hands into his pockets, practically shuffling his feet all the way to his car. 

 after sliding back into the driver’s seat, he slammed the car door closed as hard as he could, unable to bring himself to care about anything breaking. he leaned back into his seat and ran his fingers through the hair atop his head, his heart thumping so hard inside of his chest that he could hear the beating in his eardrums.

 his mind wandered through all the years he’d spent hung up on nancy wheeler, all the years that he’d wasted trying to find a way back to her, only for every single one of his attempts to come to no avail. all those years she’d spent watching him chase after nancy wheeler, when she, herself, wanted nothing more than him.

 how could he have been so stupid?

 it was like she had said earlier, she was always, always there for him, through thick and thin. she was right there with him to support him at every basketball game, at every swim meet, she even supported him and was there to comfort him every time he’d get into it with his father. she was there before nancy, at the beginning of nancy, at the end of nancy, and even now, she was still there trying to pick up the pieces of himself nancy wheeler had managed to break. 

 how had he never seen that she was right there all along?

 something inside of him felt like it had changed, like all the gears had shifted, as if all the puzzle pieces had suddenly fallen back together perfectly. she was the one holding him together, not nancy, like he had initially thought. she was the only one he had ever fully opened himself up to, and he took all of it for granted, even used her body as his escape, as his stress reliever. 

 how could he have been so shitty to her?

 and even then, she was still there, willing to give herself to him as long as it meant he felt alright.

 and that was something he could never replace.

 so how could he ever even begin to express how sorry he was?

 “robin, i know what you’re doing. and i really don’t want to go to family video right now.”

 it had been a few days since she had last seen steve in front of hawkins high, and she wasn’t sure how to feel. a part of her hated to be away from him for so long, for they had hardly even gone a day without seeing each other since middle school. she longed to be with him again, even if things would never be the same again. 

 she wanted steve harrington back.

 the other part of her hesitated, afraid of the pain she knew she’d feel if she saw him again. she was afraid of change, because it was inevitable that it’d happen, and she couldn’t shake the idea that it wouldn’t be for the better. 

 “come on, it’s been days. you’ll have to talk to him eventually,” robin nudged her with her elbow, and she sighed. 

 “i know but.. i just— i don’t—“

 “for christ’s sake, please! just go so i don’t have to hear the dingus whine and cry about you anymore!” robin groaned, “believe it or not, but he’s extremely sorry. so just get your ass over to family video because he said he has something for you and i told him i wouldn’t tell you anything about it but you’re clearly not gonna budge so i’m breaking a pinky promise right now and—“ robin paused to catch her breath, shaking her head as she squeezed her eyelids shut, trying to find the right words she wanted to say. “just.. go. i think it’ll be worth it, for both of you. please?”

 she blinked as robin gazed at her expectantly, her irises glimmering with desperation. she couldn’t help but crack a smile at the idea that steve was this desperate to make things right with her, and that even robin herself wanted her to go. so, she gathered air into her lungs and pressed her lips together, nodding her head.

 robin let go of breath she hadn’t even realized she’d been holding in, pulling her in for a brief squeeze. “thank you. now get over there, he’s waiting and even though he’s a bit of a dingus, i don’t wanna make him feel too stupid.”

 she smiled and released a small laugh as she gathered her things, rising from her chair, blinking away the tears brimming her sockets. “thank you, robin.”

 she drove to family video in silence, and as she pulled into the parking lot, she swore she could see steve running around inside, most likely noticing her car and panicking. she braved a soft smile at the idea as she turned the car off, taking one, last deep breath before sliding out of her car, and making her way to the entrance. 

 her hands subconsciously soothed down the wrinkles of her sundress and her fingers ran through her hair before she pushed open the door, ambling into the lobby where steve was, leaning over the counter on his elbows, gazing over at where she stood.

 “hey,” he barely managed out, coughing behind his fist as he stood up straight, adjusting the family video vest whilst he made his way around the counter. “hi,” she replied, and it came out as more of a squeak, and she squeezed her eyelids shut in mortification. “so, uh,” steve began, rocking back and forth on his heels, his hands behind his back, seemingly holding onto something. he must’ve noticed she was curious about what he was holding, for he swiftly outstretched his arms towards her, nearly swatting her in the face with the bouquet of beautiful pink flowers. he puffed his cheeks out, his skin scarlet and burning, and she smiled— this was the awkward steve harrington she used to know. “i.. got you these. they’re a little.. crumpled. must’ve been the car ride.”

 “oh, steve,” she murmured, taking ahold of the stems and bringing them to her chest, the petals tickling the tip of her nose as she hid her smile away. “they’re beautiful.”

 steve stuffed his hands into jean pockets, pressing his lips together as he scanned his brain for anything, anything at all that he could say. there was so much he could and truly did want to say, but words simply just didn’t come easy. would words even be enough to express how sorry he was for hurting her so badly?

 “i.. i got you something else,” he chose to say instead, and she followed with her eyes as he made his way back behind the counter, disappearing when he squatted down to grab something she couldn’t possibly imagine. he took this time to take a deep breath, squeezing his eyelids shut before snapping them back open and rising from the ground, making his way back over to where she stood.

 has she always looked this beautiful doing absolutely nothing?

 did his palms always seem to grow clammy when he was around her?

 did he always seem to feel tongue-tied whenever he tried to speak to her?

 did his heart always beat this fast around her?

 he wasn’t sure, but all he knew to do in this moment was to go for it, the small scrapbook he had spent the past few sleepless nights working on now resting in the palms of her hands. his breath hitched as she stared down at it, wondering if maybe it was a mistake after all to give this to her, if it was a mistake even calling her here at all. 

 she glanced back up at him, her irises glossed over with something somewhere between sadness and happiness, her eyebrows knit together as she flipped to the first page. 

 it was unlike anything she’d ever been given before. 

 polaroids that she and steve had taken together, some that she hadn’t even remembered taking, had been glued on every single page, steve’s handwriting in black ink on every one of them as well. sweet little captions underneath every photo, small letters on every other page, all in steve’s slightly sloppy yet somewhat neat handwriting. she could feel the sting of salt brim her eyelids, and it wasn’t long before droplets fell to the scrapbook below, and steve’s brow furrowed, her name tumbling from his lips in a whisper.

 “nooo, no, no, please don’t cry, i don’t want you to cry anymore over me—“

 “steve.”

 “—because i am honestly such a shitty person and—“

 “steve.”

 “—and you deserve so much better and—“

 “steve.”

 she cut him off by nudging his side, a smile peeking through the cracks of her tears like a ray of sunlight. she hugged the flowers and the book close to her chest as if she couldn’t bear to let them go as she let her forehead fall against his shoulder. “i’m crying because i’m happy, steve.”

 she could feel the rise and fall of his chest, and although he was hesitant, his arms did eventually wrap themselves around her shoulders, drawing her closer into his warmth. “i’m so, so sorry that i didn’t see,” he mumbled into her hair, his lips peppering kisses to the crown of her head. “i can’t— i can’t believe i took what was right in front of me for granted.”

 “but.. what about nancy?”

 her smile wavered when she remembered how in love steve had been with nancy wheeler until seemingly this point, and she felt small all of a sudden— did he really have an epiphany or did he just feel guilty?

 she wasn’t certain if her eyes told what she felt, but if they did, then steve caught it. he cradled either of her cheeks in his palms, and her heart beat against her chest once again at how close he was. this felt different than anything she’d ever felt before, different than when they had sex with no strings attached. something had changed within steve harrington, and right now, as she stared into his irises, falling further down the depths of brown, she could see it as much as he could feel it. 

 “i don’t wanna spend any more time talking or even thinking about her right,” he murmured, and he was closer than ever now, his lips a ghost over hers. “she’s already taken so much of yours.”

 her lips were sealed with his, and she just about lost her grip on the bouquet and the scrapbook as she rested her knuckles against his elbows, losing herself in the kiss she’d only been dreaming of for years on end. he kissed her with fervor, and she kissed him back with just as much. her heart was feral now in her chest, and she could only hope that she wouldn’t be pinched, in fear that this was all just a dream after all.

 but it wasn’t.

 she was real, steve was real, steve kissing her was real— it was all real.

 their lips never once broke apart as steve walked her back until she could feel the edge of the counter against the small of her back, and she gasped, using her knuckles against his chest to push him away. heat surged to her cheeks as she panted, air slowly finding its way back into her lungs. scarlet seeped through steve’s cheeks, and his teeth pinched his bottom lip, his hand slithering around the back of his neck as if he were trying to find an itch to scratch.

 “as happy as i am right now, i still should remind you that you’re at work right now..”

 “..yeah, yeah, i know,” steve winced, the corners of his lips twitching as he tittered, drawing her in once again for a peck, her lips tingling with the memory of his when he pulled away. “i.. i can pick you up after work? and i’ll take you out on a real date, one you deserved to go on a long time ago.”

 she was hardly strong enough to bite back her smile, “yeah. yeah, i’d like that.”

[enhaheeseung]

Club l. heeseung

Pairing: heeseung x fem reader!

Warnings: smut, blowjob, hand job, cum eating, flirting, cursing, alcohol consumption.

Note: here’s my little going away present to you all. Maybe this can give everyone a little insight as to why I’m leaving cause this is straight trash.

Masterlist

WC : 2,688

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Every night you noticed a black haired boy sitting in the corner all alone, bouncing his leg impatiently, chewing at his lip, and taking small sips of water every five minutes.

The end of your shift was nearing, and you didn't have anything better to do, so why not get him a real drink and give him something to do other than drink room temperature water.

"Looks like you're having fun," you sat down a little too close to him, your knee touching his. He shifted away from you and cleared his throat.

"W-what?" He responded, looking at the table instead of you.

"I said you look like you're having fun," you said a bit louder over the music playing in the club.

"Not really," he placed his palms on his thighs, trying to distract himself from his nerves.

"So, why are you here then?" you slid the mug closer to his side of the table, replacing his water with a beer.

"Umm, my friends keep dragging me along with them, I tried to tell them this really isn't my thing, but they keep saying I need to get laid already," he said in a mocking tone, circling the rim of the mug.

"Well, do you? Need to get laid, I mean,"

He sucked in a breath while crossing his legs. "N-no."

"Well, that's a shame cause I could do that for you," you reached your hand over to slowly massage his thigh.

He pressed the bridge of his glasses up, taking a deep inhale. "Or maybe I could just make you feel good. Would you like that?" You inched your fingers dangerously close to his groin area.

He held your wrist weakly, pulling your hand away from his lap. "I said no," if he was being honest, he meant yes, but he was just way too nervous.

"Sorry, I thought maybe you- I don't know, I'll just leave. Umm, the beer is on me," you got up and left. You've never been so embarrassed in your whole life.

You ruined your shot. Truthfully you had been eyeing him since like forever. There was something about the way he sat so conservatively and how he looked like a scared puppy while he covered his ears when the music got a bit louder or his little pout when he watched his friends having fun without him.

You realized you had come on way too fast, partly cause you had already planned everything out in your head except for the part where he said no.

You huff out a sigh going back to wiping the empty countertop.

As soon as you stood up and left, he downed the whole beer in one go. That was the first time he ever even tried alcohol, but he could barely focus on the taste cause he could still feel your touch on his thigh.

He was confused. He had no idea what had just happened. No girls ever approached him. They always chose his friends instead, probably cause they were a bit more outgoing than he was.

He couldn't blame them, though. Who would approach a four eyed loser who cordoned himself off in the darkest corner of the club?

Question after question raced through his mind, and none he had an answer to.

Why is there an extremely hot girl touching me?

Why is she even at my table to begin with?

And why is she buying me drinks?

"What the fuck did I just witness?" One of his friends approached him at the table.

"What do you mean?"

"What do I mean? Are you stupid or something?" Jake asked his confused friend.

"No?" he said it as more of a question giving Jake even more room to belittle him.

"Yes. you really just let her walk away like that?"

"Like what? She said she was leaving, so she left," Jake faced palmed.

"What did you say?" Jake asked, feeling like he already had an idea of how it went down.

Most people would say heeseung isn't good with the ladies, but to Jake, you couldn't even use heeseung and ladies in the same sentence. It wasn't hard to see why either.

"She started touching me and said something about making me feel good, and I said no, and then she left,"

"She? Touching? You?" Jake blinked in disbelief. pointing at heeseung.

"Yeah, and that's pretty much all that happened" he took a sip of his barely touched water.

"You idiot, go talk to her. She was literally hitting on you!"

"She wasn't hitting on me. She was touching me," he corrected, looking somewhat proud of himself.

Jake looked down at the ground, thinking of ways he could either murder himself or Heeseung for being so dumb. "Come here," Jake yanked heeseung's wrist, making him stand up, "go ask for a refill and invite her to have a drink with you. Wait, when did you even start drinking?"

Heeseung just shrugged his shoulders in response.

"Anyways, thank me later. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have someone I need to get out of here with."

"B-but," heeseung stuttered.

"Just have some fun for once."

With that, Jake left heeseung to fend for himself.

"Okay, have some fun," he took a deep breath and walked over to you, cleaning a table.

"Umm, my friend told me I should invite you to have a drink with me," if Jake had witnessed any of this fuckery he would have for sure choked heeseung till he was unconscious.

In his defense, he had zero experience. And his honesty was almost scary.

"So are you just doing it cause he said so, or do you actually want to have a drink with me?"

He picked at his thumb with his index finger, unsure of how to answer, "uhh, cause I want to," it didn't take him long to realize it was cause he wanted to. No one was making was forcing him to do it.

Well, not really.

"Then let's have a drink together," you smiled widely at him.

You don't know what you did to deserve a second chance, but you really needed to thank his friend.

He walked back to his table and sat down, waiting for you.

Soon enough, you had brought a whole pitcher of beer along with two mugs.

His eyes widened at the amount of liquid the pitcher contained, "are we going to drink all of that?"

You laughed softly at his expression. "If you want to," you sat across from him, not making the same mistake as the first time.

"So tell me about yourself other than the fact you need to get laid," you chugged down half the mug of beer.

He looked at you completely unamused but decided to answer nevertheless, "my name is heeseung. I'm 20. I'm going to graduate soon, and I'm maybe regretting this decision to have a drink with you." He told you honestly, mimicking your prior actions, except he emptied his entire mug trying to impress you.

"And why's that?" You ask. After regaining your composure, you couldn't keep your eyes away from his adam's apple that bobbed up and down each time he swallowed.

"Cause you're making me so nervous" there was no match for his honesty. Or maybe he was just very blissfully unaware.

"I don't think that's a bad thing, do you?"

"I-I don't know," he answered in a breathy tone wiping the sweat from his hands on his pants.

"I guess we will find out," you quickly filled his mug again, and he emptied it just as quick.

The alcohol started to kick in, and now he was starting to feel a little less tense, "your turn,"

You weren't sure what he meant. he noticed your expression and clarified. "To tell me about yourself,"

"I'm y/n, I'm 25, Didn't graduate college or even go to high school for that matter, and I'm not regretting having a drink with you one bit," you held eye contact with him as you sipped your beer, batting your eyelashes innocently a drop of the bitter liquid dripped down your chin and you didn't hesitate to catch it with your thumb sticking it inside your mouth swirling your tongue suggestively.

He avoided your gaze, feeling something stir in his pants. He looked at his watch, pretending to see what the time was, trying to find any excuse to get out. "It's getting late. I should probably go,"

"But we just started," you pouted, and that look made him weak in the knees. "Come on, one more drink,"

"I don't think that would be a good idea."

"Don't think," yet again, his mug overflowed with the white foaming substance.

He heard jakes voice ringing in his ear. “Just have some fun for once.”

“One more drink won’t hurt,” He brought the mug to his lips, downing the whole thing, which wasn't the best idea cause as soon as he took the last drink, his insides started to burn, and his skin felt extremely hot.

If he didn't leave now, he knew he wouldn't be able to. "How much?" He asked, referring to the bill.

"Don't worry about it,"

When he felt himself getting painfully hard, He quickly dropped a twenty on the table, "here's a tip, thanks for having a drink with me," he rushed his words out, wanting nothing more than to just get out of there.

He tried to stand up, but he plopped right back down in his seat.

You giggled at him feeling a bit tipsy yourself. "Not so fast,"

For the first time, you heard him laugh, and it was like music to your ears.

His head fell back, the dizziness making him close his eyes. They immediately shot back open when you ran your foot up and down his inner thigh sensually.

"W-what are you doing?" He may not have known, but when he stood up, it was hard not to notice the outline of his cock pressed against his slacks.

"Shush," you walked around the table, sitting next to him like before.

If you weren't a pitcher deep, you might have regretted your decision, but it was worth it when you stroked his thigh, and he whimpered softly while his eyes fluttered closed.

"Just tell me if you want me to stop."

He stared into your eyes with his barely opened ones while grabbing your wrist and moving it up higher, stopping when you reached his cock.

You took that as a sign to continue. The club had emptied out for the most part, but you were sure the bathrooms were still occupied with people having a random hook up much like you.

He looked at you the whole time, his eyes never once leaving yours. His gaze made you clamp your legs shut to try and soothe the intense throbbing between them but ultimately to no avail.

You moved your hands to his dress shirt, unbuttoning it to expose his chest.

Your hands made their way back to his lap, massaging his clothed cock. The angle was a tad uncomfortable, but you couldn't be bothered by that.

You wasted no time tracing the faint outline of his abs with the tip of your tongue.

He tangled his fingers in your hair to guide you a bit higher.

You placed wet open mouth kisses all over his pecs.

He gripped your hair tighter, trying to give you a hint. You attached your mouth to his nipple, sucking on it gently. His grip loosened, and he began to massage your scalp approvingly while you did your work.

You continue to swirl your tongue around his hardened nipple. Your other hand moved to his belt undoing that as well.

Finally, you were able to slide your hand inside his boxers and gather his precum to stroke his thick veiny cock easily.

He pulsed on the tips of your fingers while you jerked him off slowly. your mouth watered at the feeling of his warm sticky cock in your palm.

"Shit," he hissed slowly when you rubbed him from his tip to the base.

You could hear the quiet wet sounds every time your hand went up and down. With the slow strokes to his cock, he began to get impatient, thrusting up into your hand.

You placed your hand on his lower abdomen to keep him still, "we have all night, baby. Now be a good boy and hold still,"

He couldn't help the whine that left his lips. He wanted to hear you call him that again so he had no choice but to obey.

"See, that wasn't so hard, was it?"

"No," he breathed out when you put your hand back on his rock hard cock.

You started to speed up the movements of your hand and lowered your head, taking him down your throat without any warning.

He let out a cry mixed with a shriek from your sudden action as his back arched off the tattered sofa.

You rolled his nipple between your fingers, pleasuring him just the way he liked it.

You wrapped your lips tightly around his cock, bobbing your head up and down.

If he didn't let out all those cute tiny moans and whines of your name, you would have thought he was passed out from the way his head was tilted all the way back, and his mouth hung open slightly.

He patted your head to warn you of his release. "Y/n, I'm gonna cum," you were basically swallowing his cock at this point, you reached your hand down to caress his balls gently, and that's when he lost it.

When you felt him twitch, you pulled his cock out of your mouth, watching his cum shoot up to his chest and collar bone. The sight alone had you clenching around nothing.

"oh god," he softly mewled while covering his face with his other hand as endless ropes of cum stained his sweaty chest.

"my good boy," you could feel his cock twitch at the nickname.

You lazily jerked him off, careful not to overstimulate him too much, gently licking his length to bring him down from his high.

His cum just looked way too inviting, especially when it was spilled all over his toned chest.

You slurped up every drop, not bothering to conceal your lewd moans.

He was completely out of it, unable to speak or even think straight.

You were already buttoning up his shirt and pants when he finally sobered up a bit and came to his senses somewhat. "T-thank you," he mutters, not knowing exactly what to say. This was all too new to him.

"There's no need to thank me," you smiled and kissed his cheek.

He took out his wallet, trying to give you more money as a way to say thank you.

"Wow, are you implying that I'm some type of whore?"

He panicked and put the money back in his wallet, "what?! N-no, I-I, that's not what I was trying to do. I just wanted to," his shoulders slumped down, and he lost all the words he wanted to say.

"Sweetheart, I'm only joking,"

"O-oh, oops," he looked down, smiling, trying to hide his embarrassment.

He proceeded to take the money back out of his wallet and give it to you.

You couldn't believe someone could be so dense and oblivious at the same time. It was still cute though.

"Are you okay to drive home?" You asked him while rubbing his chest.

"Yeah, I'm okay," he answered, looking at the placement of your hand with a giddy smile on his face.

"Well, then, Have a goodnight, heeseung. hopefully, I'll see you around."

"You too, y/n," he said it so low you almost didn't hear it.

You gave him one peck on the lips before walking away, leaving him utterly speechless.

Somehow even after everything you did to him, that kiss made him blush the hardest.

After tonight there was no question he'd definitely be seeing you around.

For the first time ever, he couldn't wait to go back to the club.

❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥

Hope you all still enjoyed it even though it’s not good :(

Gonna tag all my perms one last time. I love each, and every one of you, thank you for staying with me this long, y’all better promise me you won’t be sad hehe anyways, it’s been a wonderful ride, and I’ll never forget it you are all so amazing! sending you all the biggest appreciation hug ever. love A. ☺️🤎🫶🏽

Permanent taglist:®🏷 @hello-stranger24 @ashxsmoon @lhsggg @scarlet127 @bunhoons @axartia @kpopscruggles @badidealy @heeseungleeworld @jayroseyy @bangchanhasbigfeet @duolingofanaccount @oceanyocean @yjwnoot @woonie-muffin @hee-in @heesgirl @bambisgirl @heeaddict

One more time for the road, thank you so much for reading. I hope you all enjoy sorry for any typos/errors, and as always, enjoy your day/night🤎

[sailorwritesstuff]

hihi! can I request lucas with a s/o that's a cheerleader?

Stop this would be ADORABLE.

I think it's pretty clear that you guys met because you're now running in the same circle

Usually cheerleaders and basketball players sit together but it's MANDATORY on game days so the very first game day of the year you end up awkwardly stuff to the side with the other freshman popular table.

Lucas is a little bit late and ends up sitting next to you and the two of you accidentally bump heads when you try and help him catch some papers falling out of his open binder.

"I'm SO sorry."

"no. No it's ok."

"I'm so sorry oh my God...I'm. I'm Lucas."

After that the two of you sit together during mandatory game days it's a way for you to keep entertained without having to talk to the older douchebags.

He tells you about his friends and Max

In return you listen and tell him about yours

For a little bit he was still hung up on Max she was his first love and things ended very abruptly

But one day after your respective sports practice you were leaving around the same time and Lucas offered talking despite it being spring it was still a little cold out and your cheerjacket didn't protect much from that so Lucas offers you his letterman.

And something about the way that you won't if it draped over your shoulder as you thanked him shyly made his heart dance

When you got home that day you offered it back and he told you you can keep it.

"bring it back tomorrow."

"you don't have the game tomorrow I won't see you at lunch"

"I know... it gives me a reason to come find you."

"I'll see you tomorrow Sinclair."

And you DID bring it to school tomorrow. Received a great deal of teasing from your friends about wearing the "bench warmer's" jacket.

You don't get together officially into Lucas gets a little bit of closure with Max right before vecna.

He invites Max his friends to his game. And when he didn't see any of them there as he stepped onto the court he saw you stand up with excitement to see him better.

He heard you cheer louder than any other cheer leader when he scored.

He felt you tackle him in a hug and scream his name as soon as his feet hit the ground after being practically carried out the gym.

"LUCAS. OH MY GOD. YOU SCORED!"

"I scored..."

"I'm so proud of you!"

He just hugs you tighter before pulling away to look at your face "Will you go on a date with me?"

"yes! Of course."

-Blurb bonus-

"no. your problem is your knee keeps locking up at the wrong moments and your steps are messy Clara." The hushed whispers of the cheer captain, Eden was harsh as she scolded you squad member to your right. Leaving you to stare off towards the basket ball team to your left in hopes that she'd overlook you and leave you be. "It's not our fault as bases. That's your fault as the flyer. All you have to do is follow Chrissy's movements."

You slowly lift a carrot from your lunch and chew as quietly as possible. Watch Jason Carver pull Chrissy into his lap and smile like he was the happiest man alive. 'how sweet.'

"I have no problem finding a new flyer to replace you. Get. Your. Shit. Toge- OH!" Your captain yelps and your head snaps over to your other side.

"I am so sorry-" a tall awkward boy stood behind her frozen in fear. You hadn't seen what happened but Eden's face was bright red and her hands where holding her skirt in the back.

"You Pervert!" She smacks his chest and the boy clutches onto stacks of books and paper, ready to fall. "Go. Get."

The boy opens his mouth to apologize again but quickly walked away coming closer by the second. You cross your fingers under the table praying he'd find another empty seat besides the one beside you.

Unfortunately, he sat next to you several papers floating to the ground and on the table. "Sorry. Sorry-"

"it's no problem." You mumble. He began straightening his papers. You watch in curiosity as he placed them delicately in front of him. "You missed one"

You lean down to pick up the last of the papers by your foot at the same time he reached and the two of you accidentally collide.

"I'm so sorry-"

"no no it's ok- ow" You frown and wince leaning away from him "Today is not your day."

"no...it's not. I'm so sorry I'm Lucas."

"y/n."

"are you ok? Your head, I mean."

"you've got a pretty hard head, Lucas." You tease hoping it get this stranger to stop worrying. He smiles gently and your stomach does a soft spin. '...Lucas... what a nice name.'

[neon-junkie]

what do you HC the clones' moans to sound like? personally I HC fives as being unabashedly loud but his moans are rough and ragged and he tends to run his mouth, echo is quieter, more panting than anything but he whimpers when he's close, jesse growls and tends to grit his teeth, hardcase likes to talk too just like fives, but he's not as loud and his moans are mostly long and drawn out when he does moan (lots of "mhmm"s) and rex's moans are soft and smooth

Decided to do a few of the 501st boys for this, else I'd be here all day xD Gender neutral reader, 500 words.

Rex - Literally music to your ears. Rex isn't the loudest man out there, but he never fails to express how much he's enjoying you. He lets out deep, soft, and smooth moans, along with the occasional words of praise. Rex likes to compliment everything; your body, your expression, how you look beneath him, etc. He's a very sensual lover.

Echo - Like Rex, Echo is also soft and smooth. He's somewhat quiet, but far from silent, and lets out the prettiest whimpers known to man. Echo often gets caught up in watching you, and forgets to express how much he's enjoying this. He's used to his partner asking if he's okay, to which he shakes his head and mumbles, "me? Oh, yeah. Sorry, cyar'ika. I was busy admiring you."

Fives - Loud. Chatty. Always gets noise complaints from the neighbours. Fives doesn't want to be louder than you, but he typically is. If you're a loud person, then he'll challenge that; he likes to bounce back whatever energy is being given to him. He dabbles in both praise, and degradation, depending on what you're into. However, he goes silent when he cums. Silent. Orgasms short circuit his poor brain!

Jesse - Very similar to Fives, definitely a loud king. Jesse loves being in charge, and he loves reminding you that he is. He's essentially going to chew your ear off during sex, so having quiet sex is basically impossible. You can try and gag him - try being the key word - but he'll always find a way to talk through his gag. Good luck keeping the noise down!

Tup - With new partners, he's somewhat shy. He likes to see how loud you are, then match your noise levels. Tup isn't one for dirty talk, but if you dirty talk to him, his face will turn redder than Mustafar. He likes muttering the occasional praise, but the main thing that flows from his lips are soft pants and moans. Over time, he will become more audible, he just needs to see what you're like first.

Dogma - Most of the time, he's quiet, mostly because he knows he shouldn't be doing any of these things with you. It doesn't matter if you're hooking up at your apartment, Dogma is going to keep the noise down. However, if you edge him, and turn him into a desperate mess, then his mask will swiftly slip away, and you'll find out what a needy and babbling man he is.

Hardcase - Chatty. Giggly. Hardcase likes to ensure that his partner is enjoying themselves, and he'll check in on you at least 5 times per hookup. He's the type of man to remember things mid-sex, and mutter them out loud like, "Oh, yes! Cyar'ika, you feel so good, you... kriff, I forgot to turn my blaster in for inspection... Anyway, keep going, darling, that's it!"

Kix - Like Rex, Kix sounds like music to your ears. He’s never too loud, and always sends the right amount of praise your way. Kix is a sensual lover, with a bit of kick to him, and he expresses that in the bedroom. Expect soft whimpers, deep moans, and the odd sprinkle of dirty talk.

[littlefreya]

Vanilla Milkshake

Summer: Henry and a long time friend hangout at their usual spot when things turn chaotic because of an innocent misunderstanding...

Prompted by:  

 Oooh Freyaaaa I just *need* some scene featuring Henry and ofc drinking milkshake. 

Pairing: Henry Cavill x Unamed OFC (no description of ethnicity or body type).

Word count: 1.7K

Warnings: RPF, major fluff, friends to lovers, sexual innuendo, mild seduction, sex talk, an unwanted boner, Henry being a boomer, Henry having a meltdown. 

*No permission is given for reposting my work, copying it, ideas or parts it and claiming it as your own.*

A/N: So, first thing first, thanks @agniavateira for quickly beta’ing my work! And of course thanks @the-soot-sprite for bouncing ideas with me and being an emotional support. Decided to go with friends for lovers because I live for that stuff. Also, I am aware that “Milkshake” can be interpreted in several ways but for the sake of the story I went with that particular reference. Divider by the lovely @firefly-graphics

Please comment and reblog if you enjoyed.  🖤

Title: Vanilla Milkshake

“I swear, this diner looks like Barbie had an orgasm all over the place.” A whimsical grin sliced between Henry’s marble cheeks. Eyeing the pastel-esque surroundings, he huffed scornfully and adjusted the cap over his nest of unruly curls. 

“Remind me again why we always meet here, young lady?”

Staring at the beastly man who barely managed to squeeze into the plastic-pink faux leather booth, she couldn’t help but chuckle. Henry carried himself with something that was both eloquent yet unmistakably feral, reminding her of a burly forest creature. Sturdy tree trunks stood for limbs, torso, and shoulders—the widths of icy mountains and a blanket of thick fur coated the entirety of his body, deeming him a dangerous bear. 

No wonder he preferred himself clean-shaven. The sharpened edge of a razor kept him a cut away from becoming ‘Henry the Barbarian’. 

Seeing him surrounded by pastel and sparkly fairy dust brought far more joy than she could ever imagine. The utter look of contempt gleamed on the surface of his shifty eyes. 

Oh, by God, how much he hated glitter!

“And what would you know about Barbie’s orgasms?” she teased with a crooked eyebrow and a comical suspicious glare. 

Readjusting his cap over the messy mane of chocolate curls, Henry offered a terrible wink and shrugged, “a gentleman never tells.”

Her fingers rapped on her thigh while she contemplated whether to allow this naughty joke slide, but then the urge to provoke him was far too great. After briefly chewing on the inside of her cheek, she broke into a wicked grin.

“Is that… like a role play you have with the missus? She’s Barbie, and you’re G.I.Joe? Because I kinda don’t want to hear about it, but then I kinda do.”

Henry’s smile gradually faded along with the playful glee in his eyes, his melancholic gaze dropping to the sparkly table. He slumped into a heavy sigh, “If by missus, you mean ‘Miss Hand’, then no… not really.”

Dumbfounded, she frowned at Henry with confusion when then it struck her; a sense of incredible embarrassment drained the blood from her head to her gut.

“Oh…”

“Yep.” Henry blurted and grabbed the menu, pretending to be incredibly interested in the kids’ meal options. 

Just in time to rescue them from a prolonged awkward silence, the waitress arrived with their order, serving Henry a hot cup of double espresso while she received a tall glass of a luscious vanilla milkshake. 

“Enjoy your drinks, guys!” the waitress smiled sweetly and kept her eyes glued to Henry as she walked away. But the gloss of the waitress’ flirtatious excitement was lost on him; drenched with greed, Henry’s blue sapphires were fixated on the generous scoops of ice cream and the dark chocolate swirls that decorated his companion’s dessert. 

“Henry, my eyes are up here!” she provoked and grabbed the straw between two fingers while throwing an amused glance at his simple cup of coffee. Henry followed her gaze and scoffed before raising the cup to his mouth and blowing to cool his drink.

The way his lips pursed together and his finger stroked the ceramic surface did not escape her observation. A sudden tingle swam down the length of her spine once it resonated in her mind that kind, charming, and beastly Henry was now single. Here they were, long time buddies, but now sitting together felt less comfortable than before. Her limbs felt like pins and needles while staring directly at his eyes was as risky as staring at the sun.  

“Cheers,” Henry mumbled and took a sip from his cup. 

Almost jolting in her seat, she stiffened and then grabbed her straw.

“Cheers.”

Giggles came from the other side of the diner. Among the retro gumball machines and rounded plastic bar stools, the waitress and a colleague leaned against the counter and stared at Henry, who turned his head for a brief moment and tipped his head.

Their giggles turned even louder.

She frowned. 

“So, have you been single for a while?” she heard herself asking with a rather urgent tone. Right away, a look of contrition crept on her face as she regretted her verbal onslaught and lack of sensitivity. 

Henry directed his gaze back to her and watched as she slowly sipped from the milkshake and then suckled the cream off her mouth. 

Absentmindedly, he licked his lips. “Since May. How about you, weren’t you with…?”

“No, ended, dodged a bullet.” she spat and pumped the straw up and down the thick beverage. “My milkshake brings all the boys… except it doesn't.” she sighed.

Henry frowned and shook his head with confusion. “What? You never told me you make your own milkshake. How come I never had some?” 

Her face abruptly froze, her eyes rounded with surprise before she snorted so loudly the waitresses stopped their whispering.

“Umm… Hen?” she called out, trying to hold herself from bursting into chuckles as her friend accidentally asked for a very sexual favour, “you honestly don’t know what ‘milkshake’ is slang for...?”

“Uh…”

“Omg, you’re such a boomer.” 

“No, I was born in ‘83! I’m a millennial. But please, indulge me.” he begged and crossed his arms together.

Clearing her throat loudly, she did her best to fight the wicked grin that stretched on her already painful cheeks and wrapped her fist around the straw. “So you know... how… certain male bodily fluids are sometimes white and creamy...? And when you perform a certain motion it’s like you’re shaking it…?”

Henry blinked and became silent. An unbidden rush of blood pooled at his groin as he watched her thumb graze over the tip of the straw and her fist pumping it into the smooth liquid in a slow, gentle motion. Wickedness glazed her eyes, but he tried to dismiss it as nothing but their usual playful banter; yet his adam’s apple bobbed up and down while his shoulder tensed at the oddly arousing sight of her performing a sinful act on a milkshake. 

There was an unmistakable stir in his cock and for once, he was thankful for narrow spaces as it hid his predicament.

Leaning forward, she opened her mouth and swirled her tongue around the straw. She went deliberately slow, making him watch while she playfully licked and suckled the tip until finally wrapping her lips around it and taking a generous sip.

Henry gawked utterly smitten, unaware that his jaw was nearly at the floor.

And to make things worse, she moaned—not too loud—but definitely enough to make his shaft harden more.

She wasn’t sure what stirred this whimsical boost of confidence, only that seeing the large, handsome man pale at her provocations made her feel like the most powerful woman on earth. She also gathered she’d regret it forever and a day once they’ll part ways, but it was too late for that now.

Gingerly she pulled back, though not before allowing a single drop of cream to trickle down the corner of her lips.

“Oops,” she smirked casually, wiping the cream with her fingertip and sucking it clean. 

“Please stop…” 

It was then when she noticed that Henry’s playful mien was all but gone. Far from amused, he glowered with a clenched jaw. “If you’re going to keep doing that, I’ll have to leave,” he stated matter-of-factly. 

A rush of panic made her freeze in her spot, the same needles that pricked her skin were now setting jolts of electric bursts. “I’m so sorry, I crossed the line,” she said and covered her mouth with shame, “did I offend you? Do you want me to leave?”

“What? No, no, not at all.” Henry’s voice softened right away, and he reached a hand in the air, as if trying to stop her from leaving. The last thing he wanted now is for her to think he is angry with her. If anything, he wished they could spend more time together, not because of his obvious arousal, but because for the first time in a long while, he was having fun.

Still, she looked at him so utterly distraught.  

“Then…?” 

Henry scanned the diner as if trying to make sure no one was staring or taking any photo and then shifted in his seat uncomfortably. His eyes altered between his spread thighs and her several times, trying to signal toward his… trouble.

“Oh...” she gaped. 

An odd sense of pride began to permeate her chest, battling over the burning embarrassment that flamed up her neck and cheeks. At this point, she wasn’t sure what she was supposed to feel, only that it was definitely the most awkward hangout they had to date. 

Problem was, she never knew when to shut up. 

“Is little Henry hungry?”

Hearing those words, his brows dropped to an irritated sulk. “There is nothing little about it.”

“Ha! Prove it!”

It was as if the entire diner and perhaps the world fell into silence. Had the clatter of the dishes being washed in the back kitchen not rung their ears, she would have thought she grew suddenly deaf. 

“I didn’t mean it… sorry, I’ll stop,” she mumbled slowly and pressed her fingers to her mouth while shaking her head at her stupid behaviour. That was it, this was to be the last afternoon she would ever hang out with Henry and right now, she couldn’t even bring herself to look at him.

Henry chewed onto the inside of his cheeks, trying to stop the words that came faster than his thoughts.

“You didn’t?... Because I’ll definitely be up for proving...”

She blinked at his words and tilted her head, hoping that he won’t notice the wild tremors that shook her limbs, “What was that?” 

“I... yes? No?...I… fuck!” 

Henry lowered his head and slapped his palms across his face, rubbing back and forth with an utter meltdown while mumbling, “Forgive me,” a couple of times. He couldn’t care less of what the waitresses or whoever was watching would think of him; all he cared about was to make her feel comfortable around him again and maybe… even make her like him?

“Henry?”

Soft and warm her voice called to him, slowly pulling him from his anguish like a sailor being rescued from a sunken ship. His blue sapphires shone, an ocean of confusion and anxiety still pooling within while he peered back at her face that was now smiling at him a mixture of comfort and exhilaration. 

“Would you like some of my milkshake?”

[daechwitatamic]

Broken Glass || KTH

(banner by @itaeewon)

What Was Hidden

POV Drabble #4: Broken Glass

WC: 2.5k

Warnings: depiction of a car accident, depictions of taehyung’s unhandled trauma again lol, drinking, angst, a hangover

The request:

A/N: @pamzn, I'm sorry because I bet you requested this thinking it would be funny and cute and instead I made it hurt. You should know by now lol.

The scenes from this drabble are all from Chapter 3!

“Well,” you’d said on the phone, your voice slow and thoughtful, and Taehyung had imagined your face and how it might look as you contemplated the subject at hand, how your eyes might drift upward as you chase a thought, “I thought about all the things we can be haunted by, as people. Like, in real life. I mean… what haunts you?”

What haunts you?

Boys’ laughter, loud, mingling together, rising towards a heavily clouded night sky.

The jangle of keys, the cold metal stinging and biting his bare hands.

Snowflakes melting against the windshield as the heat comes to life with a buzz. 

The spike of adrenaline as he realizes that the car is sliding on the snow-covered road, even as he presses the brake clear to the floor.

The screech of tires, the blare of a horn, the blinding flash of headlights that are way too close.

The desperation in his lungs as the impact knocks his breath out of him.

The taste of blood in his mouth, metal again.

The white-hot pain shooting down his leg.

The absolute lack of any feeling where his arm should hurt, too.

The ringing in his ears, louder than anything he’s ever heard, nearly drowning out Jimin’s voice next to him.

Saying, “I’m okay.” Reaching a hand sideways, finding Jimin’s, clutching at it tightly.

Calling, “Kook? Jungkook? Jungkook?”

Silence from the backseat.

The burn in his throat as he screams it again.

The red and white lights accompanied by sirens.

The vicious winter air chewing at his face, seeping through his clothes.

Snowflakes melting on a shattered windshield.

What haunts you?

Not being able to bend his knee to step over the lip of the bathtub for his first shower at home post-surgery.

A scar on Jimin’s cheek where a piece of glass grazed close to his eye.

The dull look in Jungkook’s eyes when he repeats that the doctors aren’t sure he’ll ever get full range of motion back, that they aren’t sure he’ll be able to dance again.

How that dull look completely erases the relief Taehyung had felt when Jungkook had finally come to, blinking awake in a hospital bed.

I killed him after all.

His hands shaking, palms sweating, at the thought of getting behind the wheel again.

Jimin shaking him roughly by the shoulders, calling him back from his memories.

Jungkook’s tight shoulders, anger holding each muscle taut, as he refuses to speak.

The broken glass of the windshield is the same as the broken glass in his throat as he screams into his pillow. 

The cold, buzzing sensation that takes over his limbs when his heart races too fast. 

The dreams where he’s driving and he knows the crash is coming but he can’t do anything but keep his hands on the wheel. 

The long, silent nights he doesn’t sleep, because at least that’s better than the dreams. 

What haunts you, you’d asked. You had no fucking idea. 

–

The night after, Taehyung and Jungkook throw back shots in tandem. 

“Joon’s over there,” Jungkook tells him, leaning over to be heard, eyes across the room where Namjoon is indeed standing with Jimin.

Taehyung’s still a little off-kilter, even though it’s been a full day since that video call. He hadn’t managed to do anything productive on his paper; your questions had sent him spinning like a baby deer on a frozen lake. 

He still felt like that - like his feet were moving and moving but he was slipping and sliding and couldn’t get purchase, couldn’t stand up. 

He lets Jungkook lead the way over to the guys. 

“No Hobi?” Taehyung asks as they get close enough.

“He’s on his way,” Namjoon tells him over the top of his beer glass. “Jin?”

“Not coming tonight,” Jungkook supplies. “He had closing shift at the cafe.”

They drink and talk for a little, and Taehyung foolishly relaxes a little.

But the universe isn’t done fucking with him, apparently. Because out of the crowd, you approach, a glass in hand. 

Jungkook greets Bridget with a cheer, and they flash matching bunny grins at the group. Taehyung lifts his glass at you, but doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t think he can. 

He feels… mad at you? He thinks? He knows that’s illogical, that you didn’t do anything wrong. But it is your fault that he’s taken a huge step backwards in his not letting the wreck rule his life process. 

It’s fine, he tells himself. It’s one rough day. You’re fine. Everything is fine. 

Namjoon introduces himself to you, but you’re sending glances at Taehyung, quizzical. Is he imagining that you look a little hurt?

You’re not the only one looking sideways at Taehyung, either. Jimin’s got a knowing look on his face and it’s only a moment later that he says, “I’m going to go dance. Taehyung?”

Taehyung’s supremely not in the mood to dance, but he sures as shit needs another drink. He doesn’t say goodbye or anything, just wheels around and follows Jimin through the crowd. He feels a little like he’s sleep-walking, honestly. 

They both lean against the crowded bar, wait to be noticed.

“You good?” Jimin asks without looking at him. That’s the tell that he knows the answer already. If he thought Taehyung was okay, he’d look at him. 

“Just in my head,” Taehyung allows. It’s true. 

“You gonna talk to her, or -?”

Taehyung shrugs. “Sure.”

Jimin’s eyes narrow, and now he turns his head. “What’s the game here, Tae?”

Taehyung shakes his head, asserting his innocence. “Not a game,” he promises. “I just feel… weird. I told you, I’m in my head. I’m not messing with her, I swear.”

Jimin frowns at him, but doesn’t say anything - yet. 

Taehyung feels a wave of frustration with his inability to articulate well. He knows what he means. “I just need a little time,” he tries to explain. 

That was it - he’d needed a few more days to get his head straight again before he had to see you again. That was all. He’d just try to keep his distance tonight and start fresh with you at tutoring, when he wasn’t still reeling, when he could act normal. 

“Okay,” Jimin says uncertainly. “You coming with me?”

He means out onto the dance floor. Taehyung shakes his head no. 

“I’m good here,” he says, and for a while it’s true. He talks to a few people near the bar, guys he knows from school, some girls who had been lingering close.

They do a few more rounds of shots. The room goes blurry at the edges, softly. The tension Taehyung had felt melts away, bit by bit. 

The girls are just heading off to dance when he sees you coming, Namjoon following behind you. At first Taehyung isn’t sure you’re coming to him, and then once he figures out that you are it’s too late for him to escape without being obvious. Stuck, he has no choice but to shift over to make room for you two as you join him at the bar. 

You order three shots, and Taehyung is vaguely aware that he probably shouldn’t have another, but he doesn’t protest. 

Before he knows it, he has his arm over your shoulders, pulling you close. You look at him, bemused but seemingly unbothered. 

“This girl, Joon,” he says, and shakes his head. He has no idea what’s going to come out of his mouth next. Words are just happening. “Be careful. She’ll just come out of nowhere and ask you shit like what haunts you and then carry on like nothing happened.”

No one speaks. Namjoon’s mouth drops open like he’s going to say something, but nothing comes out. 

The indignation carries him, and Taehyung continues, sure that he has been wronged and desperate for validation, “Shit. What haunts you, what the fuck was that?”

You blink at him, look at Namjoon for backup, and then venture, “An essay thesis? It was an idea for an essay thesis?”

“You’ll have to excuse Taehyung,” Namjoon says, patting Taehyung’s shoulder placatingly. “He’s not his best self tonight.”

“The fuck I’m not,” Taehyung retorts, removing his arm from your shoulders to reach for the shot you’d ordered him. He takes it quickly. It goes down without burning - another warning sign he doesn’t heed.

Then, he turns and pushes through the crowd towards the dancefloor. He does a lap of the place, decides he needs something to do with his hands. He orders a beer that he doesn’t even like, drinks two thirds of it as he absently scans the room. He goes to set the beer down on the bar and misses. Broken glass litters the floor and Taehyung moves away, barely aware, still feeling like he’s swimming through a dream.

Some part of him has enough self-preservation to send him looking for Jimin. 

He finds him on the dancefloor, entwined with a beautiful girl with hair the color of ink. He waits, uncertain, but when the song changes, Jimin’s eyes find his. He bends down low towards the girl’s ear, whispers something, and her gaze finds Taehyung, too. She nods understandingly at Jimin and he makes his way over, one hand reaching for his unsteady friend.

“Bro?” he asks as soon as he’s close enough. 

“I believe-,” Taehyung starts to say and then stops when his stomach lurches. He holds up a finger, indicating please hold, and breathes slowly through his nose, eyes closed. The moment passes, and he tries again. “I believe I have made several grave errors tonight.”

Jimin shakes his head, disappointed. “You’re talking like Grandpa Kim. On the Taehyung drunk scale, that’s one step past dropping shit and one step before ending the night with your head in a toilet.”

“Yes,” Taehyung agrees, “and that step seems particularly imminent. Especially as I have already dropped shit. It might have been a beer glass.”

Jimin sighs. “Come on,” he says, and tugs Taehyung by the sleeve towards the entrance. 

Outside, he takes Taehyung’s phone and orders an Uber. He passes the phone back and takes out his own, typing furiously.

“Okay,” he says finally, snapping his fingers in Taehyung’s face to get his attention. “The Uber is taking you to the house. Yoongi is waiting. If you aren’t there in twenty minutes, he’s calling me. No side trips, no impulsive stops anywhere. Got it?”

Taehyung frowns. “What if I want fries?”

–

At the house, Yoongi lounges on the couch, the girl he’s been seeing laying opposite him, her face lit by her phone.

“Oh good, you’re home,” Yoongi says. “Now Jimin will stop blowing up my phone.”

“Sorry,” Taehyung mumbles, and that’s enough to get Yoongi’s actual attention.

“Go get a water bottle before you go upstairs,” the older man instructs, suddenly serious. “And eat something, if you can.”

Wordlessly, Taehyung makes his way into the kitchen. He still wishes he could have requested a stop for fries on the way home, but Jimin hates him and wants him to suffer, so here he is, fry-less. 

“Hey, Taehyung,” Yoongi calls from the living room. Taehyung wanders to the doorway, leans against the frame, raising an inquisitive eyebrow. 

“Y/N wants to know if you got home safe,” Yoongi says casually, watching Taehyung out of the corners of his eyes.

“She - wait. What?” Taehyung steps closer, unsteady.

The girl on the couch - Kiko - giggles. “She texted me about it.”

Taehyung tucks in his lips, trying to hide a smile. “Interesting,” he says, trying to sound nonchalant, failing to.

He makes his way upstairs, water bottle cold in his hand, and collapses on his bed still fully clothed. He turns on his phone, opens a new text.

Ur worried about me? thats adorable, he sends. 

The answer comes back two minutes later, making Taehuyng laugh out loud - if u die i don’t get a paycheck :) 

–

Around noon, Taehyung drags himself down to the kitchen, bleary-eyed and head pounding.

Jimin and Namjoon are sitting at the kitchen table, coffee cups steaming in front of them.

“Well hello,” Jimin sing-songs.

Taehyung ignores him, moving to fill the kettle with water. What he wants is to make a very tall mug of hot tea, to take it back up to his bedroom, and to drink it in silence until he can stand to be awake. His head pounds, his pulse races, and his stomach somersaults. 

“Rough morning?” Namjoon asks, his voice just a touch too innocent to be sincere.

“Haven’t puked yet,” Taehyung says, “so not that rough, considering.”

Jimin snickers into his fist. 

“Have you heard from Y/N?” Namjoon asks, in that same saccharine tone.

Taehyung turns to look at him. Behind him, the kettle makes unhappy little noises as the water starts to heat. 

“Not since about 4 am,” he says evenly. “Why?”

Namjoon shrugs, picks up his coffee and blows on it before taking a sip. “I think you freaked her out last night.”

Taehyung’s stomach sinks. “Oh no,” he mutters. On the stovetop, the kettle screams. The noise pierces Taehyung’s brain, and he hurries to make it stop. After he fills his mug and plops a teabag in, he shuffles over to the empty chair and sits next to Jimin. He sighs heavily. “Go ahead,” he says, long-suffering. “What did I do?”

“For starters, you broke a beer glass,” Jimin says. “But I don’t think Y/N witnessed that.”

“Nothing too crazy,” Namjoon assures him. “You were just… a little intense, perhaps, for those who aren’t used to you.”

“You’re an acquired taste,” Jimin agrees. 

“Great,” Taehyung says flatly. “Super.” He takes out the teabag and tosses it in the garbage can, then carries his mug gingerly back up the stairs.

He sits at his desk, rests his head in his hands for a minute. Then, he pulls out his phone and texts you.

[12:57 PM] Taehyung: hey

[12:58 PM] Taehyung: Joon says I was a little much last night

[1:00 PM] Taehyung: so i wanted to apologize if i said or did anything out of line

Your reply comes in quickly -

[1:01 PM] You: no worries, u were cute

Taehyung drops his phone with a clatter. 

Cute? 

Taehyung has questions. What kind of cute? Look at that cute guy cute? Or baby animals cute? Or cute of you to try, but no cute? 

His phone buzzes again, the screen lighting up, and he hurries to swipe it open to your next text.

[1:03 PM] You: it was funny, nothing out of line. I appreciate the concern tho

Taehyung breathes a sigh of relief. He hadn’t fucked up too badly, then. He types quickly, eyes almost crossing with the effort as his headache thuds and bangs around his skull.

[1:07 PM] Taehyung: okay good. I honestly dont remember a lot of last night 😑

He follows that up quickly, feeling like it’s important that you know -

[1:09 PM] Taehyung: i don’t make a habit of doing that… jsyk

Your answer makes him frown again.

[1:12 PM] You: its not really my business. see you wednesday, ok?

Taehyung feels like a deflated balloon. How had he gone from “you were cute” to “it’s not my business” in the span of eleven minutes? Were you just back-pedaling because you’d slipped and said something nice?

It felt like it.

Taehyung answers you and abandons his tea, crawling back into bed instead. He pulls his comforter up over his head and closes his eyes. 

[1:19 PM] Taehyung: k.

Sleep doesn’t come, but at least it’s dark, and at least it’s quiet. 

Thank you for reading! You can find my full masterlist here :)