#and the way it ended!! hello!! excuse me!! i need more now??
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sakashq · 2 days ago
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Not You Too. / Pedri Gonzalez x fem!reader
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🪬 summary. you were already cheated on by an ex, so pedri promises to never do the same to you. what happens when he breaks his promise?
🪬 warnings. cheating &&. gaslighting 🤦🏾‍♀️
🪬 yap! i hate my ex so here’s this, sorry pedri lovers (bells) 🫶🏾 to @ar4ujos , @planetpedri , @hrts4havertz , &&. @halfwayhearted.
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♡︎ - 346,028 likes ✎ - 103,028 comments
wagcentral: word on the streets saying this is Pedri… yourusername stand up 🤦‍♀️
user082 oh ffs pedri.
user012 fumbled a baddie 🫤
↳ user032 frr
user067 i can’t even imagine what she’s feeling rn.
user079 this is fucked up pedri wtfff
user101 she needs to LEAVE HIM.
user092 nonono my parentsss ☹️☹️
↳ user002 user092 bye they are grown and do not know you!!
↳ user043 user092 hey so actually he cheated on her! do you really want that as your dad?
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Transcript of Y/n L/n and pedri💞’s phone call.
pedri💞: Hello?
Y/n L/n: What the fuck, Pedri?
pedri💞: Calm down, baby, what’s going on?
Y/n L/n: ‘Calm down’? ‘Baby’?! You fucking cheated on me, that’s what’s going on. [her voice begins to crack] Not you too.
pedri💞: What… What are you talking about? Y/n, I’m on my way to your house now.
Y/n L/n: [sniffs] To collect your shit I hope.
pedri💞: Don’t say that. I don’t even know what you’re talking about. What do you mean I cheated on you?
Y/n L/n: The pictures are out, Pedri.
pedri💞: What pictures?
End of call.
6 missed calls from pedri💞.
5 missed texts from pedri💞:
- I just saw the pictures. those arent recent
- I promise you it’s not
- I’d never cheat on you Y/n
- I love you so much
- Please don’t do this
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Rain poured, mocking the tears from your eyes. You could see him outside through your window, drenched in the rain.
“Y/n, answer the door please.” You could hear Pedri outside consistently pounding on the door. He wasn’t gonna leave you alone; you knew you were gonna have to answer one way or another.
With mascara running down your face, you walked over to the door, in no hurry to talk to him at all. You reluctantly opened the door, being greeted by a pleading Pedri.
“Y/n…” He sighed, his face softening. “Please don’t cry.” He said as he went to wipe your tears away. You dodged him, not wanting to feel that spark from his touch. You couldn’t bare it anymore.
“You’re a piece of shit,” you spat out at him, showing him the photos and the screenshots you had been sent. “You’re a piece of fucking shit.”
“Let’s talk about it then, Y/n,” Pedri replied, downplaying your anger. He didn’t seem as upset as he should’ve been.
Tears continuing to pour just like the rain, you said, “You lie to my face about where you’re going and who you’re with then expect me not to find out? How the fuck can you tell someone you love them and then cheat on them?”
“Y/n, it wasn’t even like that. Those photos and screenshots are all from before you. That girl’s engaged now,” Pedri told you. You could see in his eyes and expression that he was genuinely sorry, no matter how nonchalant he tried acting about the situation.
“Why didn’t you fucking tell me then? If it was before me why hide it?” You didn’t even know what you were saying at this point— you just knew you were mad.
Pedri answered with desperation in his tone, “I have nothing to hide, Y/n, I thought you knew.” Tears were slowly rolling down his cheeks, only making you more upset. You hated seeing him like this and you hated even more that you couldn’t comfort him.
“Then let me see your phone. Since there’s nothing to hide.” You crossed your arms, giving him a serious expression.
His eyes widened and he began to look around for an excuse. He managed to get out, “I… It’s— I left it in thr car.”
“Bullshit, I see the fucking print in your pocket. Bye, Pedri.” You scoffed with an eye roll, beginning to shut the door on him.
He held it open and started to plead. “Please, Y/n. I wouldn’t do that to you and you know it. I love you, Y/n.”
“Save it, Pedri. Don’t waste your time.”
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lightlycareless · 5 hours ago
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i just read ur reader piercing naoya's ear fic and i was wondering can u write smth about naoya finding out reader got their belly button pierced? xx
Hello!!!
Did someone say smut? because that's what we got. I think hehe. I'm still somewhat uncomfortable writing it but you know what they say!! practice makes perfect 🙈🙈🙈 Anyways, thank you so much for your patience and for sending this ask!!!!! 🥺 it took me a while to get an idea of what I wanted to write, but here we are :> I hope its to your liking!
Also, I believe this is the fic anon is referring to :> If not then gee I've written more about piercings that I've ever expected lol.
warnings: smut. MINORS DNI. you get a piercing and decide to... act weird about it. naoya does not like it :)
Happy reading!
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How you managed to hide your piercing from his ever-wandering hands is a commendable feat, even after all went down, you still don’t know how you did it.
Though all this could’ve been easily avoided in the first place if you hadn’t convinced yourself to do it after seeing a particular photoshoot and thinking “I can look just as good.”
As well as believing this would further spice up your life with Naoya. Like it wasn’t spiced enough!
But only after you surpass both your embarrassment and heal; unfortunately, the former only growing stronger and stronger upon realizing this was far more than what you bargained for.
You initially try to play it off as being sick whenever he gets too close. Not in the mood, even. “I’m dizzy.” “My head hurts.” “I’m on my period.” Are just a few of the excuses you deployed.
And your loving husband, always the (surprisingly) patient one, takes it, because he supposes that for his ever-willing wife he could allow these exceptions. Thus, right after you reject him, he cuddles up to you and falls asleep.
However, his tolerance quickly ends when understanding this wasn’t to be a 1-week occurrence. But rather, a monthly endeavor that soon turned his everyday into utter punishment.
Naoya frantically attempted to make sense of it all. Think that perhaps the reason behind your distance was because of some unknown issue that troubled your mind; you always tended to keep things to yourself, even if he’s countlessly assured you he could fix all of your problems—he just needs to know them first.
But even then… Naoya could not understand how easily you were able to detach from him. Because to him… to do so meant death itself.
The problem wasn’t him. It couldn’t be. Naoya had more than enough means to keep you satisfied however you needed it, and he made sure of that too.
Thus, at the lack of answers, he begins to feel threatened. Intimidated. Replaceable.
And we all know how Naoya gets when feeling such way.
“Princess, you will explain yourself—now.” Naoya demands, his abrupt, towering presence forcing you deeper into the bedroom, nowhere to escape.
“I don’t—I don’t know what you’re talking about!” You gasp, a blatant lie that only served to bury you deeper into your mistakes.
“Oh, no. I think you know exactly what I’m talking about, mochi.”
If you hadn’t transgressed Naoya, you would’ve found his approach very, very inciting.
Unfortunately, even if you wished to go down that path, your dear husband was far too infuriated by your ridiculous behavior to consider anything else that wasn’t confronting you.
“Why are you avoiding me? And don’t even try to get out of this one, I’ve been patient enough.”
You knew this moment was fast approaching; only a matter of time before you ran out of excuses… or patience to abuse.
There’s only so much he’s willing to tolerate before he… well, you don’t want to think about it.
“I’m just… I just— I don’t know how to tell you…” you breathe.
“How to tell me what?”
“Do you promise to not get angry at me?”
“I’m not sure if I can promise that.” He frowns. You swallow.
“…at least not too much?”
Naoya squints his eyes, as if considering it. You knew he wouldn’t, you were in the wrongdoing after all.
“Just don’t judge me, please.” You eventually profess, and after taking one last breath, you reach for your obi and untie it, careful to not reveal too much but just enough to show the bare skin of your abdomen—
And the shiny addition to your navel.
Naoya couldn’t hold back his laughter.
“Is that all, princess?” He chuckles loudly, like you just told him the funniest joke he’s ever heard. You do not find it amusing. “Is that the reason why you’ve been avoiding me??”
“Y—yeah I—I guess!” You frown, cheeks burning hot. “Don’t make fun of me, I was really hesitant whether to tell you or not!”
“Really? For this silly little thing?”
“It wasn’t silly to me, Naoya!” you cry.
“Alright, alright—I didn’t mean to upset you.” He says, curiously attempting to reach for your piercing before you smack him away. “Hey!”
You glance away, placing your obi back in place.
“Come on now, you don’t have to hide it from me.” Naoya smirks, stepping closer. “Hey, princess—”
“It’s still healing.” You quietly explain; a partial reasoning behind your dismissal.
“Ah, so you’re telling me you wouldn’t like me to help you?” He enticed, you retreated further into the wall; if possible. “I have more than enough experience with piercings, there’s no one in the estate more qualified than me.”
“Don’t misinterpret my words, you know I didn’t mean... that.” You caution, though he spoke nothing but the truth.
“Is that a yes?” Naoya continues, placing his fingers under your chin and pulling your gaze back to his.
“…only if you don’t make fun of me.” You eventually agree, and he seals the deal with a chaste kiss on your lips, followed by a tight hug that has you whining in pain. “Na—Naoya!”
“Oh, princess, I’m sorry.” Naoya says, quickly releasing you. “You poor thing… is this how it’s been since?”
You nod.
“Well, you’re in good hands now; and luckily for you, I know just the right thing that will ease your pain.”
Had you known Naoya would completely dedicate his time to make sure you weren’t passing any discomfort, then maybe you would’ve told him of your small endeavor from the very beginning.
It just… to see him so enthralled by your impulsive decision, you couldn’t help but wonder how different everything would’ve been if you had decided otherwise.
As well as how much you exaggerated your worries; hadn’t your husband consistently proven how far he’s willing to go just to make you happy?
From whatever craving you desired (but nothing that would hinder your healing process) to the endless kisses he’d place on your navel—as if he weren’t sufficiently hypnotized by your body, your piercing heightened that desire—Naoya was all yours. Completely allured.
But mostly by the rush he got at being the only person to know of the debauchery that hid beneath the pristine, meek and obedient look you carried around the estate; fitting to the wife of the future leader of the Zen’in— the same woman many admire by her gentleness, how you’re his living contrast, his better half; never daring to be as outrageous at he is!
If only they knew the truth.
No. It was better if they didn’t. He’d fervently keep all this enjoyment for himself.
“St—stop, Naoya!” you cry, squirming beneath his touch that roamed across your body, caressing the places where he’d like to taint next, such as your now sensitive nipples, which he’d squeeze and pinch incessantly for you to suffer in the following days.
Or your twitching clit, grazing it with no particular desire outside of tormenting you with pleasure. Remind you who really was in charge of your mere existence.
Yet, nothing compared to the way his cock plunged into your warm, tight walls—choking him so painfully exquisite, Naoya can’t help but moan whenever you do. Keeping your hips steady as he gives you all that he could not these past few months—blinding your sight with stars when bruising that one spot that always has you coming undone, which you desperately grasp whenever possible, wanting to steady that agonizing sensation.
Because as cruelly as your husband teased you, you equally desired to pour out all the desire you bottled up by a silly fear, let him enjoy the gift that was always meant for him. Your role in this marriage.
“It—it hurts—Naoya—!” you whimper, a profession Naoya was quick to interject as a lie given the way your cunt refused to stop milking him.
“Hmmm, it does, doesn’t it?” He breathes against your skin, placing ardent kisses across your cheek down to your neck as his hands reached for one of your nipples once more, giving it a particularly tight pinch that made you squeal.
“N—Naoya—!”
“Would it hurt here too, if you got a piercing?” he ponders curiously, another wave of excitement travelling all the way down to his member, which you felt grow even harder, bigger at the thought. Hips unwavering as if he were attempting to drill the proposition deeper and deeper into you.
Naoya was pretty much depraved when it came to your breasts, his hands or mouth always on them whenever possible; So, with this, you fear your chest will never know peace again.
But it doesn’t frighten you. In fact, you are willing to entertain such an idea. Endure the pain that follows this decision—for him to completely succumb to you.
“Would you do that for me, princess?” Naoya gasps, plummeting faster, stronger into you in that familiar sloppy way that signaled to you he was dangerously close.
You instinctively, as if second nature, wrap your legs around him, keeping him close, right there, followed by the agonizing tightness of you walls that soon make his voice tremble—stopping any silly consideration he might’ve had of spilling his seed anywhere else except where you deserved… though Naoya never entertained otherwise.
“Show how much you truly love me, by—by doing this?” he gasps, firmly shutting his eyes to not urge his release at the sight of your bouncing breasts.
“N—Naoya—!” you gasp, pulling him closer to you and captivating his lips in a heated kiss. Moaning into his mouth as your tongues intertwined with one another. “Ah—Naoya~! I—”
“Ple—Please, Y/N!” He suddenly begins to beg, now delirious with pleasure. “Please—Please do it for me, princess, you don’t know how happy this would make me—how much I wanted this!”
The combination of your devotion, your sweet whines, the tightness of your core, and the eagerness in the markings in his back is his ultimate downfall, just a few more thrusts and the first spurts of his burning seed spill deep within you—ropes of white covering your walls which you welcome almost jealously, as if wasting the smallest drop was the highest sacrilege.
And to a longing mother, it just might—but beneath your desires of a family, you wished to welcome back the husband your actions had unwillingly estranged: his intoxicating scent, the strength he’s amassed throughout years thanks to his strict routine, his burning touch tracing your skin with invisible lines…
But most importantly, his love, which you tightly held onto as he came down from his high, resting on your chest as he lets out a deep sigh, still plugged into you, just as he’d done the past few times in hopes his seed will finally take root. Naoya wishes to be a father too, and the thought always makes your heart flutter.
It’s the look of a man well satisfied. A man that has wholeheartedly committed to you, body and soul…
A husband that deserves to be rewarded, consoled. Urging you to speak coherently for the first time that night and let him know he no longer stands alone.
“I’ll do it.” You say, Naoya snuggles closer to you.
“Hm?”
“The piercing thing. I’ll do it, if that’s what you want.”
“The… oh.” Naoya blinks, moments of his passion suddenly flash back to his mind. Wouldn’t be the first time he’s spoken at the heat of the moment, nor the last.
“Do you really… want me to do that?” you murmur hesitantly. “Get another piercing?”
And for a few seconds, the two remain in complete silence, whether enjoying the intimacy he’s been cruelly deprived from, or considering your words… it didn’t matter. Neither wanted this moment to stop.
It was simply… perfect. Just the two, with each other’s heartbeat to fill the quietness in the room—and the doubts in your mind.
“No.” Naoya eventually confesses, placing a kiss on your skin. “I do not.”
Because as much as the idea enthralled him, he didn’t want to force anything on you. Certainly not for a piece of metal.
“You’re perfect to me like this. With or without piercings.”
Your heart tightens at his words.
“You don’t mind the one I already have, then?” you ask, he laughs. As if it hadn’t just shown you.
“No. Not at all; I didn’t think you could be any hotter, and yet, here you are… proving me wrong, my adorable lava cake.”
You frown at the gross nickname, playfully smacking him on the shoulder.
“Hey! What’s with the aggression?” He jests, but you simply hug him tighter, closer to you. “Is that how you treat the husband that had so lovingly filled you with his seed—"
“Shut up, don’t be crude!” You say, resting your head on his. After a few moments of silence, calming down, you declare: “…I love you.”
Naoya lets out a breathy chuckle, succumbing to your affection moments before his slumber.
“I love you more, my little mochi.”
Oh, how could you ever doubt his affection?
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I always suspected Y/N to be more of a tattoo kind of person; idk why, but I think it would complement each other nicely too. Naoya is with the piercings, and you with the tattoo's. We all known which one he'd like.
Also, I will never tire myself of writing Naoya as completely gross with you. Like, the mere thought of you hiding such a simple piercing from him is OOF he loves it. I mean, without the constant pushing him away lol But yeah, watching you walk around in one of those traditional yukatas with your hair all pulled up in the most appropriate way ever, looking to appease the Zen'in only for him to be like:
"Yeah, you see her? No one would suspect my wife has her nipples pierced." IS SUCH a HUGE turn on to him. Maybe you do get them later on, who knows? 😏
Anyways, I hope you liked this small thing I wrote 🫣 I shall continue to strive improving my smut skills, sometimes I get so inspired, sometimes... I don't even know what I'm doing :'(
Well, still; I wish y'all enjoy it. Take care and hope to see you soon ❤️❤️❤️
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moonlit-tia · 9 months ago
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I finished chapter 8, what am I supposed to do now? 😭
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k-hotchoisan · 7 months ago
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hello dearest 🥰
hard hours are open? so are my legs for this:
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thoughts on writing a full story?
love you and your work, have a blessed new years ❤️
7 minutes of compensation
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<seonghwa x fem!reader x yunho>
Coming back upset and disappointed at how your date turned out, Seonghwa and Yunho decide on a way to compensate you, in their own pretty little way.
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Rating: R - explicit
Genres/Warnings: pwp, smut, 3some, oral (f receiving), riding, orgasms, fratboys!ateez, pet names, unprotected sex, face fucking, cream pies, dacryphilia, fingering, reader is a brat and it's deserved, pussy slapping (only once)
Word count: 3.6K
a/n: super late on this one, but this prompt was perfect for @atzhouse frat boys event <3 enjoy and indulge heavily 🩷 also thank you to my lovely @bro-atz for helping me develop the plot i could kiss u to death!!
Taglist: @bro-atz @diamond-3 @mcarebearsstuff @choisansplushie @voicesinmyhead-rc @pre1ttyies @hwallazia @songmingisthighs @yeosangiess @interweab @mylovelymito @softwsan @yourlocaljonghoe @itza-meee @ywtf @jeon-ify
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You were gonna fucking kill them. The both of them. As much as you adored them as your roommates, you swear they fucking sucked at matchmaking, or either that, their fraternity has men that are less than subpar. 
Unfortunately for Yunho, he happened to be in the line of fire, and he got the heat first—meeting your cold gaze, then your sharp eye rolls which truthfully, he thought his eyes were playing tricks on him until you blocked his path, arms folded tightly across your chest, your bottom lip sucked in from sheer annoyance, and even though Yunho pretty much towered over you, for once, you don’t feel small. 
“Is it a thing in your little groupie that none of y’all can even reach the bare minimum of being a man?” You spit, narrowing your eyes, tilting your head. 
Yunho scrunches his eyebrows in confusion. “I’m not following, y/n”, he replies. Even though you know he’s being honest, unfortunately, he’s still part of the stupid fraternity, and technically he seconded introducing this poor excuse of a male to you.
“Where’s Park Seonghwa? Is he hiding from me because he fucking knew that son of a bitch was a sorry excuse of a man?” You grunt, attempting to push past Yunho, who quickly grabs you by the shoulders before you actually start acting on impulse and causing some property damage. It works. Barely.
“Hey, hey. Y/n, you need to tell me what happened before you decide to burn our dorm to the ground,” Yunho says, trying to meet your glacial eyes. God, Yuhno is so fucking lucky that he has a personality of a cotton ball because that’s what he could turn you into in an instant just with his gentle voice and soft demeanor. You kind of knew it wasn’t really his fault that the male he and Seonghwa introduced ended up being completely a piece of shit, but still. 
No. You weren’t about to falter at Yunho’s warm gaze and the way he’s leaning into you, his hands firm on your shoulders. Deep inside, you knew Yunho was the last person to be unreasonable. 
Your hard stare is slowly softening and the hostility is slowly dissolving much to your dismay, but you still hold your pout, now turning more cranky than mad.
You decide taking a deep breath to start your complaint would be the right way about it, especially since it helped with hiding your tears that were just threatening to fall. 
At that moment, Seonghwa emerges from his room, having heard the commotion from the common space, his face as clueless as Yunho’s. Yunho turns away from you, the grip on your shoulders lightening as he stands up straight to look at the older male. 
Seonghwa’s stare blank as he shuts his door, “I heard my name. What’s going on?”
Now there the three of you were—on your bed, Seonghwa on your left, Yunho on your right, the both of them exchanging glances at each other, not wanting to break the silence or you’d end up breaking their necks. Your arms are still crossed, and your expression now a pout rather than some intention to commit murder within the dorm. You made them sit with each other in complete silence while you decided to take a shower to hopefully wash off the vexation, obviously to no avail. At least you smelled nice.
“The guy the both of you introduced”, you huff another deep breath, “not only fucking sucked in bed but tell me why none of you told me he was fucking someone else?” 
Another exchange of glances, this time with panic and confusion swirling in their eyes. You stand up and face them, your hands on your hips.
“We swear we didn’t know”, Seonghwa is the first to respond, his hands raised defensively. “He said he was interested in you, and we just…”
“Linked the both of you up, since you offhandedly mentioned that he was pretty cute”, Yunho continues. 
You smile, which doesn’t reach your eyes on top of dripping with anything but kindness or satisfaction, well, given the complete fuckery your stupid date put you through. You lean forward, stroking Seonghwa’s jaw, and for a moment, he seems entranced by your gaze, growing slightly breathless for a split second.
“Did you know who he was fucking?” You ask, and it comes off as a rhetorical pop quiz question, which both Seonghwa and Yunho knew better than even trying to guess, lest you have their heads in your arms by the time this is over. 
Seonghwa’s tongue slips out, wetting his plump lips out of nervousness. Sometimes you think Seonghwa looks absolutely delectable when he stares up at you with his doe eyes. You watch him shake his head. 
Then you let go of the poor man, leaving him to catch his breath on top of having the smell of your body soap almost shutting the rest of his senses down.
“His ex-girlfriend”, you spit, accompanied by a roll of your eyes. Both males had expressions that were equivalent to being a deer in headlights, which slightly cushioned your hostility because it seemed that they genuinely didn’t know about this. 
“I’m sorry to hear about that”, Yunho says, and there’s a glint of guilt in his eyes you barely catch. His hands reach out to yours, hoping to appease your anger slightly, and Seonghwa mirrors his reaction.
“Y/n, I’ll make sure he never contacts you ever, alright?” Seonghwa follows, his fingers gently stroking yours, making a mental note to bash his fraternity mate into the wall when he has the chance to. “Yunho and I will make sure of that.”
“I can’t believe he fucking fumbled a chance like that”, Yunho mutters. 
You remove your hands from the two males, crawling towards the headboard, letting your head rest on the endless amount of pillows, both Seonghwa and Yunho trailing you with their eyes, watching the way your shorts were riding dangerously up your thighs. 
“I want compensation, from the both of you”, you remark, your eyes darting to your phone screen, gradually getting distracted as your anger slowly dissipates. “On top of him being a piece of shit, he fucks like a loser. You have guys like that in your fraternity to represent how y’all fuck or what?” 
It takes less than a millisecond for Seonghwa’s gaze to darken, which you don’t notice until your phone gets snatched from your hands. You are about to part your lips to complain, that is, until you see the poison dripping from Seonghwa’s gaze. Before you can register it, a pair of arms lift you from below, and you’re facing Seonghwa, while being seated on Yunho’s lap. Yunho’s arms are wrapped around you, and you realise you’re trapped. 
“No, Angel. We don’t fuck like that piece of shit does”, Seonghwa corrects you, his voice calm and almost angelic, if it wasn’t for the fact that his tone is tinted with anything but. 
“We fuck better.”
“You shouldn’t lump us with guys like him, that hurts our feelings y’know”, Yunho chimes behind you, his voice tickling your ear. 
Seonghwa’s lips are inches away from yours, “Believe me, we’ll compensate you fully.”
You feel your heart hammering in your chest, the tension in the air climbing up in levels at a rapid pace. Seonghwa doesn’t intend to give you the time to form your thoughts before his lips are on yours, gentle yet greedy, growing more possessive by the second, and you let yourself melt into his lips, his touch, his seduction. 
Soft moans escape your lips the more Seonghwa lets his tongue swipe yours and your lips. Fuck. Yunho’s fingers snake underneath your shirt, sending goosebumps all over your abdomen until he reaches your tits, and his fingers begin to roll your nipples against his fingertips as he alternates between squeezing your full tits, enjoying the whimpers you’re voicing while Seonghwa makes a mess out of your lips. Your mind is slowly slipping, and the next thing you’re feeling is the way your panties are getting soaked by the second. 
Seonghwa pulls back, licking away the string of saliva connecting both of your lips, watching your lips swollen and your face flush, with a smile on his face. 
Yunho’s hands leave your tits, and he brings up your shirt past your shoulders while Seonghwa pulls off your shorts, exposing the pretty wet patch on your panties. 
“Look at you, so pretty and wet for us”, Yunho hums, his hand reaching down past your panties, and you gasp at the feeling of his fingertips drawing circles on your wet clit. He does it so painfully slow and you swear he’s doing it on purpose. 
“Yunho-“, you mutter breathlessly, your hands grabbing his muscled arm. Seonghwa pulls your panties to the side, revealing your soaking pussy, just begging to be filled up. Yunho shifts his hands from underneath your panties to where Seonghwa had pulled them to the side.
They weren’t about to let you have your way, at least not yet. 
“Now, are you taking back what you said about us fucking like losers?” Seonghwa asks, guiding Yunho’s fingers going back to circling between your clit and your sopping hole. You swear you were about to lose your fucking mind. 
You stare at Seonghwa, eyes slowly getting glazed out the more Yunho’s fingertips grazed along your clit. 
“No.”
Yunho’s hand makes impact on your cunt, making you gasp, your eyes blowing open from the shock that climbed along your spine, the sound wet and loud. 
“Wrong answer, dollface”, Yunho hisses into your ear, barely giving you a second to catch your breath before his fingers plunge into your cunt, your head falling back against his shoulders, a broken curse slipping past your lips.
“Fuck, you’re so fucking wet. You’ve just been thinking of this, haven’t you?” Yunho curses, feeling your soft walls squeeze against his fingers whenever his fingers enter you on top of the pretty squelching sounds your pussy was making for him. 
Yunho presses against your g-spot, and you jolt slightly, your legs spreading wider on instinct accompanied by another moan, and it doesn’t go unnoticed by the two males.
Yunho’s suddenly fingers pull out and you’re ready to protest from the denial, until you feel something harder and thicker pressing against your spine. Shit. 
Seonghwa unlocks your phone and taps on the timer app, filtering through numbers before he shifts the screen to your view.
“We’ll make you cum in seven minutes as compensation, Angel”, Seonghwa promises. He looks so confident too. “If we don’t, then you can do whatever you want with us.”
“But if we do, you’ll take back your words, and we’ll do whatever we want with you, with your consent of course”, Yunho adds. 
Truthfully, the deal was a matter of pride rather than anything else, and you being sandwiched by your hot roommates on top of it? Just the cherry on top. 
“Fine”, you agree, and Yunho, tips your chin to face him, lowering himself to press his lips on yours before passing you over to Seonghwa, who also seals the deal with a kiss. 
“That’s a good girl”, Seonghwa hums, pressing his thumb against the corner of your lips. “Yunho should fuck you, right? Since he was the first person who caught your heat.” 
“But he’s-“
“It’ll fit, dollface. I’ve seen the dildos you fuck yourself with. My dick will fit you just perfectly”, Yunho cuts you off, leaving your heart to slam against your chest. 
Yunho lifts you up as he positions you right about his thick cock before he lowers you down, completely splitting you open as his cock fills you up all the fucking way, leaving your thoughts and sanity somewhere else by now. 
“How are you feeling, Angel?” Seonghwa even has the courtesy to fucking ask.  Tears prick at the corners of your eyes, both from pleasure and pressure. 
“So fuckin’ full. Fuck”, you mutter, your mind in a complete haze as you attempt to adjust to Yunho’s size. Seonghwa swallows hard at the way your pussy is just stretching to fit Yunho in plain sight before he starts the timer. 
Then he lowers himself to your filled cunt, and licks up your clit, making you jerk.
Oh boy, these two are definitely about to drive you crazy.
Your head falls onto Yunho’s shoulders as you try to pace your breathing, but with Seonghwa at your cunt lapping your cream while Yunho has your pussy filled? It seemed like an impossible mission. 
As Yunho fits into you, dragging against your walls and pressing dangerously close to your g-spot, Seonghwa’s slow and wet licks against your clit only stimulated and soaked you more to widen up to further fit in Yunho—now a complete cycle of hell of Seonghwa eating your pussy out making Yunho’s cock sit deeper in you which in turn made your clit all the more sensitive towards Seonghwa eating your cunt out. You were sure you wouldn’t last long at this rate. 
A quick glance at the timer—two minutes had passed, and yet it felt like an eternity from how much stimulation you were getting. Soon enough, you were confident that time wouldn’t even exist as a whole. 
Your body shudders in pleasure once more when Seonghwa licks another stripe up your cunt, trying to hold your composure, only for it to be broken down when Seonghwa’s wet lips suck on your clit, your mind blanking out from the sensation. 
“Such a good fucking girl for us, y/n”, Yunho’s gentle voice barely registering in your head. He glances at the timer. “Four more minutes for us to break you. You know it’s okay to just let go and ruin your bedsheets right? We’ll wash them for you.” Jesus fucking Christ.
The numbers on the timer on your phone continue to descend agonisingly slow and the looming, ticklish feeling of an orgasm is just threatening to spill over at any moment. Your mind begins to drift off, shrouded in the mist of pleasure, with Yunho, low moans as the icing on the cake whenever he feels your walls squeeze around you, his praises sounding like a hymn. 
Seonghwa switches between his tongue and fingers, the only denominator is him making sure to send you off the edge, casting his gorgeous eyes upwards to meet yours, watching your reactions like a hawk. The cream around the base of Yunho’s cock grows thicker every time he pulls out from your stretched hole.
At the sixth minute, you realise you are a lost cause—Seonghwa licking and grazing his fingertips against your wet clit while Yunho has his cock balls deep in you, hitting deep fucking spots in your cunt. 
“Fuck, fuck, fuck”, you cry out, your eyes screwed shut, barely processing Yunho’s kisses down your neck as he stuffs you full once more. Seonghwa pulls back, licking your cream off his lips before they pull into a smirk, then making sure he overstimulates and sends your whole body into an orbit with his fingers on your clit. Stars scatter and burst into your eyelids, you barely were able to keep them open when your cum spurts out of you, alongside your cries about feeling so fucking good while you screamed both of Yunho's and Seonghwa’s names, diluting the cum from Yunho who fills you up warm seconds after. 
Both men watch you unravel in complete awe and adoration. They should have done this sooner if they knew your cunt would be this fucking good.
“Six minutes and fifteen seconds”, Seonghwa brings up your phone with a smile. “You did fare pretty well, Angel.”
He lifts you off Yunho’s cock, his cum trickling past your trembling inner thighs, and Yunho groans from the sensitivity, giving his wet cock a couple of pumps. You were not in any position to complain, not when your body is barely recovering from your high, because you’re on your stomach, facing Yunho’s thick cock, your eyes rolling back once more when you feel Seonghwa’s cock stretching you open once more. Your face buried in the sheets, your fist digging into the fabric, your ass automatically lifting to accommodate Seonghwa.
“Fuck. You’re still so fucking tight, Angel. Were you waiting for me to fuck you next? You’re just begging for me to fuck Yunho’s cum out of you, aren’t you?”
You could only muster a weak whine of Seonghwa’s name before Yunho’s cock gently taps on your cheek. You look up at Yunho, your eyes completely glazed out, realising your mouth suddenly feeling very empty.
As Seonghwa slides his cock out of you, your phone suddenly lights up, the vibration catching both boys’ attention. Yunho glances over and cocks an eyebrow when he sees the caller ID flash across the screen. He looks over at Seonghwa who catches his eye, then nods to his older friend to pick up the call. Seonghwa reaches over, even as he’s still fucking his cock in you, and slides answer.
“Hey.”
“Hello? Seonghwa Hyung? Isn’t this y/n’s phone?”
Seonghwa glances down at you, ass still bouncing off his fat cock while taking Yunho’s cock in your mouth, your body twitching from time to time on top trying to fit Yunho in your mouth. 
“Y/n’s not available right now. She’s a little…preoccupied.”
There’s a pause for a moment. 
“O-oh. ‘Cause I was meaning to talk to her about the ex-girlfriend thing and-“
“H-Hwa”, you whimper, feeling your brain short-circuiting every time his hips snap against yours, feeling your brain up with nothing but just cock. Seonghwa returns your look with nothing less than affection before he bothers to focus back on his friend’s endless amount of excuses for acting like a piece of shit.
“You don’t need to anymore, dude.”
“What? Wait I don’t-“
Seonghwa smirks into the phone. “She’s not interested anymore—Ah fuck, that’s it Angel.”
“What the fuck is going on there?!”
Seonghwa only chuckles in reply, hitting the loudspeaker for Yunho to reply him, “Don’t worry about y/n, she’s well taken care of. Better than however the fuck you did, that’s for sure.” Yunho strokes your jaw, encouraging you to fit more of him in your mouth, biting back a curse when look up at him with doe eyes, spit and precum just coating his cock every time you bob your head.
“We definitely need a little talk when we see you. Until then, maybe learn to fuck better”, Seonghwa adds, before disconnecting the line, ignoring the sudden myriad of messages barging and spamming your inbox from said male. Well, you were busy. 
Seonghwa’s attention snaps back to you once more when he feels your cunt squeeze around him, and the way your pussy is just endlessly creaming on his cock is just driving Seonghwa closer to his high, partnered with the obscene sounds bouncing off the walls he knew his fraternity brother definitely heard.  
“That’s a good fucking girl. You’re doing so well for me. Fuck. I’m gonna cum. So fucking close, Angel”, Seonghwa hisses, his thrusts becoming more erratic, cock mindlessly hitting deeper spots of your poor cunt before he feels you completely let go and cum right on his cock as well, his warm cum filling up your cunt.
Yunho isn’t faring any better, his eyes are glazed out at the way your throat is closing around his cock every time he slips it in, and when your eyes roll back with your mouth covering the entirety of his cock, clenching him again at the back of your throat, Yunho can’t help but cum down your tight pretty throat with a strangled groan, along with praises of you taking his cock like his good little girl, and how you’re taking all of his cum so well, which only makes your mind buzz with pleasure on top of both of your holes being filled up. 
Yunho jerks back slightly on instinct from the overstimulation, before his hands cup your jaw to assist you pull out. Cum dribbles down the corner of your lips from your futile attempt to swallow it all, but Yunho simply grabs a handful of tissues for you to spit in should you need to. Then his lips press onto your forehead, his voice like honey in your ears as he praises you for taking him and Seonghwa. 
Seonghwa on the other hand, had pulled out of you, swallowing hard as his cum mixed with Yunho’s seeps past your folds, dripping onto his half hard cock. Seonghwa thinks he could go another round, but not now. The thought of ruining your pussy over and over again is definitely the most enticing to him,   but he makes mental note to delete and block the twat’s number on your phone while you go wash up. 
The exhaustion is slowly kicking into your body, considering you’ve never been fucked this good, but Yunho insists to wash you up before you rest in either one of their rooms, which you don’t put up much of a fight against, considering the state of you right now. 
Yunho, slightly displeased that Seonghwa insisted on snuggling on his bed as well, the three of you sharing Yunho’s bed, with you in the middle. As Seonghwa combs through your hair with his fingers, you suddenly remember the phone call. 
You look up to both of them and ask, “Who called just now?” Evidently, you were so deep into your pleasure that who called didn’t even register in your mind, the faint memory of the dull vibration of your phone being the only thing you recall. 
Yunho and Seonghwa exchange glances before their eyes shoot back to you. Yunho forces a smile and Seonghwa continues to stroke your head, slowly lulling you into an exhausted slumber. 
“No one important. Someone we can thank for being able to compensate you, darling”, are the last words you barely process before you fall asleep in their arms.
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woso-dreamzzz · 21 days ago
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Menor's Halloween
Alexia Putellas x Teen!Reader
Summary: The second of my Halloween-centric fics
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Alexia grins as she looks at herself in the mirror, straightening out her skirt and putting the finishing touches on her makeup.
The family Halloween party has been a staple ever since her childhood, bringing the family back together every year without question.
It was basically a rule at this point, something no one could get out of and chosen to take place on a day when no one has an excuse to be elsewhere.
"Are you ready yet?"
It's Olga's first time at the party, unable to make it the past few years. She's gone fairly conservative with her outfit, a generic Halloween costume of a zombie cheerleader.
Alexia can forgive her though because originally Olga hadn't been able to come until her meeting in Madrid was cancelled last minute so she had to buy the unpopular costume from the store.
Alexia, on the other hand, has had her costume planned out for months with everything ironed to perfection.
"Ready!" Alexia calls out," I just need to find-"
"The bag is on the table where you left it last night."
Alexia grabs the bag from the table, swinging it over her shoulder before slipping into the driver's seat of the car.
Family events like this one normally end up with a lot of drinking and, while she wouldn't usually partake, Alexia's already planned to allow herself a few more drinks than normal.
Olga's decided to take up the driving home duty to let Alexia drink however much she wants.
"I'm nervous," Olga says, straightening out her cheer skirt and rubbing at her face - though she grows a little annoyed when the face paint rubs off onto her fingers.
"Don't be nervous," Alexia says," You've met everyone before."
"I know but...Halloween party seems more official."
"They'll probably already be drunk," She replies," And try to ply your with pizza. Or paella. Depending on if my aunt cooked or my uncle convinced her to order in."
"Sounds delightful."
"That's the spirit!"
Alexia knocks on the door, greeted by the slightly tipsy face of her cousin when it opens.
He giggles a little, a sure-fire sign he's been drinking. "I-I thought you were already here." He bursts into more hysterical laughter after that and Alexia gets the feeling that she's not in on the joke.
"And you've brought the wonderful Olga! Come in! Come in! Can I interest you in some pizza?"
"So Tio convinced her?"
"No. Mama cooked. Papa just ordered in anyway! Off you go now, Ale. I want to talk to your girlfriend!"
He pulls Olga away without another word and Alexia rolls her eyes.
"Gee, I love you too. Typical."
Alexia rolls her eyes fondly, easily losing her cousin and girlfriend in the crowd of family members either halfway to drunk or already firmly there.
A giggling hiccup has Alexia turning to see another one of her cousins by the fridge.
"I could have sworn you were already here," She says, giggling and Alexia sighs.
"Alright, what am I missing here? You're the second person to tell me that."
Her cousin giggles again, downing another vodka shot and shooting Alexia a drunken smile. "Just that I could have sworn you came with Tia Eli today. Though...you did seem a little shorter."
She giggles off before stumbling away but she's already given Alexia all the information that she needs.
She picks her way through her family members, stopping briefly to say hello to the aunt and uncle who are hosting and then her mother before finally seeing who she's been looking for.
"Is that my shirt?!" She demands," And my armband?!"
You turn around, eyes wide. An answer is on the tip of your tongue before you take in what she's wearing.
"Is that my skirt?! Are those my rackets?!"
"Don't change the subject!" Alexia says," You've dressed as me for Halloween?!"
"You dressed as me!"
"That's different."
"How?"
"It-It just is!"
Alexia takes you in as she steps back. You've got your hair done up in her usual ponytail rather than your regular braids. You've got her full Barcelona kit on along with the armband and her boots. You've even brought a football with you just in case people didn't realise who you were meant to be.
Alexia, on the other hand, had gone out of her way to dress like you. She's wearing one of your tennis skirts and your Nike shirt. She's got her hair in your usual braid with your Barcelona cap and even the gold shoes Nike gave you for your Olympic run. She's got a racket bag over her shoulder, full of the old rackets you'd left at home before your move abroad.
You seem to be taking Alexia in just like she's taking you in before nodding.
"Those are the replica shoes, right?" You check.
"Yeah. They cost a lot though. You're quite the superstar. That isn't one of my hattrick balls is it?"
"No, just one of the ones you leave lying around at Mami's."
Alexia nods. "Good. You look good though."
"Thanks, I practiced your haughty look a lot."
Alexia rolls her eyes. "I don't have a haughty look."
"You so do all 'I'm Alexia Putellas, captain of Barcelona, the best team in the world'."
"But I am Alexia Putellas and I am captain of Barcelona which is the best team in the world. I won the Ballon D'or twice, you know."
"Yeah, well I won all the Grand Slams. And the Olympics."
"Now, now," Alexia says," This isn't a bragging match. Because if it was, I'd win." She reaches for you, trapping you in a headlock and rubbing her knuckles against your head. "Which one of us has more awards?"
"Only because you're an old woman now. By the time I'm your age, I'm going to be the greatest tennis player in the world."
"Yeah," Alexia teases," Aim high."
You grin at her, shoving her away before trying to tackle her to the floor. She doesn't move an inch but you had been expecting that.
"I guarantee I can score more goals on you than sets you can win against me."
Alexia laughs.
"The garden's free. Want to test that theory?"
You grin. "Well, don't start crying when you lose."
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dolcettamagica · 8 months ago
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𐙚˙⋆.˚ 𝐆𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐆𝐢𝐫𝐥
ceo!sukuna x secretary!reader, modern au
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tags: degradation, daddy kink, videocall-sex, dirty talk, masturbation, sexting notes: minors dni, one sequel to "𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘊𝘢𝘯 𝘉𝘦 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘉𝘰𝘴𝘴" - you decided to text your boss Sukuna wc: 1.7k
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Finally you arrived home, your steps heavy with exhaustion yet tinged with relief. With each passing moment, the weight of responsibility seemed to lift as you approached your doorstep. Unlocking the door, you stepped into the comforting embrace of your sanctuary, where the warmth and familiarity of your home enveloped you like a soft blanket. Sighing deeply, you kicked off your shoes and let the tension of the day melt away. Settling into your favorite armchair, you closed your eyes, letting the tranquility of home wash over you, yet you were restless.
Your fingers reached into the pocket of your coat to pull out the cigarette Sukuna gave you, his number written on it. “Hm…”, you took off your coat, letting it fall next to you on the ground. “Should I really?” Flashes of the previous event came rushing back into your mind – the way his fingers wrapped around your neck and his hot tongue pushing into your mouth. That kiss alone made you incredibly wet.
You saved his number under “Boss (Private)” and stared at the texting icon. It would be so easy and besides, it's just a text. He couldn’t fuck you over phone anyway.
Hello, this is y/n.
Eager little girl. Texted me as soon as you came home?
Dumbfounded, your eyes analyzed his (instant) reply. 
Don’t worry, princess. Not judging you. Bet your pussy is still wet. My cock didn’t go soft either.
Excuse me? This is highly unprofessional.
No, me fucking you bend over your workdesk would be highly unprofessional. Answer me: Is your pussy still wet, little one?
You should've known that it would end up like this. You shouldn’t reply. You should tell him that this is inappropriate. Remind him that you are his secretary and some may deem this interaction as unethical and not to forget that you are years younger than him. Why was it so hard to stop though?
Yes, Mr. Sukuna.
From now on you call me daddy.
Yes, daddy.
The sudden ring of your phone shattered the atmosphere. Surprised, you glanced at the screen to see a Facetime call flashing urgently. Sukuna was calling you. The surprise sent a jolt of excitement coursing through your veins, igniting a fire within you. nervous anticipation fluttered in her chest like a caged bird. For a moment, uncertainty swirling in your mind. With a deep breath, you accepted the call, your heart pounding in your ears. The familiar face that greeted you was enough to send a surge of desire coursing through your body. Despite your nerves, the thrill of your virtual connection stirred something primal within you, heightening your senses and leaving you longing for more.
“Wish you could see your face right now. You look like a needy slut, princess”, Sukuna snickered. His shirt was unbuttoned all the way, exposing his upper-body. Your eyes widened in shock as you saw it. He had–
“Like my tattoos, huh?”
“I-I just didn’t know that you had any.”
Smirking his finger traced the black lines across his chest. His phone was probably leaning against something cause you could see almost everything up to his knees. Even the way he was sitting, his legs spread and a hand wide on his thigh, screamed dominance and sent shivers down your spine.
“Wanna see more of you, baby, put your phone somewhere. I need to see your face and what’s between your legs. Can you do that for daddy?”
Every bit of self-control and resistance left your body as soon as he called himself daddy. It’s no wonder that every woman and man wanted him buried deep inside their guts.
“Yes, daddy”, a simple good girl fell from his lips as he watched you propping your phone on the table in front of you against a water bottle. “Is this okay?”
“It’s perfect, princess. You’re such a good slut for daddy, aren’t you”, Sukuna’s hand, which was previously on his thigh, was now on his crotch, grabbing onto his hard on, “Undress, baby girl.”
He didn’t have to tell you twice. With a subtle yet deliberate motion, you reached behind your back, fingers deftly finding the tiny buttons that held your blouse together. With each successive button undone, the fabric began to loosen, revealing tantalizing glimpses of the soft skin beneath. As you slipped the blouse and bra off your shoulders, a shiver of anticipation raced down your spine, the cool air caressing your exposed flesh. In that moment, you felt an exhilarating rush of vulnerability, a silent declaration of self-assurance and desire. You weren’t going to stop now so you silently took your skirt off, wiggling it off your hips. The only thing you were wearing now was your thong.  And Sukuna’s eyes were sitting on you the whole time, taking in every little detail. Your trembling hands, your moles and freckles, everything.He could feel himself almost bursting through his pants. At first he wanted to make you beg to see his cock but he was hard ever since you crawled over to him. Swiftly he unzipped his pants, just to give his cock a bit more space.
"Obedient little slut. Look at you, just taking your clothes off, obeying my words. Makes me want to ruin you even more, little one.”
The plan to forever reject him and never succumb to him was already forgotten. How could you ever reject him when he gets your pussy this wet?
“...I’m your slut, daddy”, it was a mere whisper but Sukuna heard every word.
Growling he pulled his cock out of his boxers. It was massive. Sukuna spit in his hand before he wrapped his rough hand around his shaft. Your eyes felt like they were bulging out of your sockets. His cock would destroy you, fill you up completely and turn you into a whimpering bitch in heat. YOu were certain of that.
“Come on, princess. Spread your legs for daddy, show me how wet your pretty pussy is”. His filthy mouth had you stifling a moan as you lifted one leg to rest against the back cushions of the chair and spread the other so that your foot rested on the floor. 
“Li-like this, daddy?” God, this was embarrassing and extremely hot at the same time. 
“Yes, baby, just like this”, he stroked his cock from tip to base, the other hand now palming his balls. “Now lick your fingers and rub that clit for daddy. Bet you wanted me to do that back at the bar, huh?”
You did as instructed, dragging the tips of your index and middle fingers across your tongue slowly before lowering them to your pussy, seeking your clit. Instantly your legs began to twitch – he was right, you wanted this all along.
“That’s it, little one. Fuck, imagine it being my tongue. I should’ve played with that sweet cunt after you crawled to my feet like the dirty slut you are.”
Breathy moans filled the air around you, your pussy clenching, yearning for something big to stuff it.
“Daddy…fuck, daddy”, Sukuna was still stroking his cock as he took in the alluring sight on his phone, “G-good…feels so good, Daddy.”
“Look at my cock, baby. I’m imagining that cute mouth wrapped around my fat dick. Like that, slut?”
“Yes, daddy, yes. I love it, daddy.”
His hand twisted around his tip, pre-cum leaking already. “Squeeze your tits, pinch your nipple,” he growled.  “That’s my fuckin’ teeth, slut. I can see your naughty pussy clenching through the screen. You need something in there, right? I should be pounding into that cunt, take what’s mine.”
“Please”, you started to beg, primal urges taking over you, “Please let me put a finger in, daddy.”
“Shove those fingers inside.  As many as you can fit. Tough it would never compare to me pushing my dick in that tight cunt of yours. You think you can take this cock, huh?”
Finally you pushed your fingers inside. Your pussy was wet enough that your fingers met no resistance at all. “Y-yours…yours is too big. Would break me.”
“Fuck, you’re so fucking sexy. My cock would fucking break you, fuck you real good, make you my personal fucktoy. Look at me, slut!”
Sukuna was pumping his dick to the same speed as you were fingering your cunt. This was driving you insane. He demanded you to pick up the speed, both of you did.
“Keep fuckin’ that pussy.  Yeah, just like that.  Go faster.  Use your other hand – rub that clit again. Tell daddy how much you want his cock.”
“Want–Want daddy’s cock…I want daddy to–to fuck my slutty little pussy, please. Need daddy’s cock.”
Sukuna could feel his climax coming, his balls pulsating, something building up inside him. If only you were in front of him, begging for him to ram into you and choke you while you whimpered and cried for sweet, sweet release.
“How far are you, princess?”
You couldn’t reply with words, only strangled cries as you climbed higher.  You hooked your fingers to drag across your g-spot, fucking yourself so hard that the squelching sounds could probably be heard from beyond the door.  Your cunt contracted around my fingers once, hard.  “Ahh…cl–close, daddy.”
“Shit, me too,” he groaned.  “Fucking look at me when you cum, slut.”   Sukuna started stroking his cock faster and faster while he continued to massage his balls.  You swirled faster and harder as you pumped your fingers in and out of your wet cunt.  
“Oh fuck daddy!” you cried, rolling your eyes back to his face as you felt your muscles tense. 
“Good girl,” he breathed, looking directly into your eyes.  “Cum for me. Do it.”
And, then the tension and pressure released all at once, making you scream “daddy” as the waves rippled through your body.  Your cunt clenched your fingers rhythmically and you continued to finger yourself through the aftershocks.  
“Fuck – shit, here it comes!” Sukuna moaned seconds before thick white ropes of his cum spurted from his cock to land on his stomach as he bucked up into his hand roughly.  “Fucking finally.”
Moments later you were still panting as Sukuna gave you one last order before ending the call.
“Don’t wear any underwear tomorrow at work and come in early.”
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pirateprincessblog · 2 months ago
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accidentally sending a nude to ateez (hyung line) - fake texts
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𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐜𝐫.: you are a rookie idol in kq, and accidentally send a nude picture to ateez 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: psh x y/n, khj x y/n, jyh x y/n, kys x y/n 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: a little angst?, sexting, insecurities, fingering, squirting, oral (f! Receiving) 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: reader is of age!
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𝐬𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐡𝐰𝐚
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*offense not offence omg
the practice couldn't end fast enough. when it did, you shook as you exited the practice room. and you shook even more when you found park seonghwa's figure leaning against the wall with his back, one foot resting on the wall behind him and one on the ground, with a hand in his pocket and the other one scrolling on his phone. when he noticed you, he gave you a sweet smile and offered to take your backpack.
in no time, you find yourself back inside the now locked room, sitting in front of the mirror with your legs spread out and slender fingers slowly pumping in and out of you.
"look how pretty you are." "you moan so sweetly." "look at you glowing." he chants against your ear, hot breath caressing your face and lips grazing your neck and jaw.
𝐡𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐣𝐨𝐨𝐧𝐠
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your third award show already as a rookie, and you are still nervous. you excuse yourself, and the members offer to go with you.
"i'm fine, just need fresh air."
you exit the venue, breathing heavily. once you step over the threshold, you lean against the wall. the air is cool and biting against your bare arms, but the adrenaline rush inside you is keeping you warm. you miss the way the door opens again, a figure with his hands in his pockets slowly approaching you with a smirk.
"hey."
"fuck- where did you come from?"
"do i need to teach you manners, little rookie?" the playful glint in his eyes isn't gone, even though his face is dead serious when he grabs your jaw to look at him.
you are at a loss for words. a person standing aside might think that you were scared or in danger, but the arousal between your legs proves different.
"nervous?" he asks, seeing your distressed face. you nod, not able to break eye contact with him. it is so addicting. "let me help."
legs over his shoulders, and back uncomfortably pressed against the cold wall, you moan against hongjoong's hand. he has his head buried in the layers of your dress, tongue relentlessly lapping at your aching core and ridding your body of any remaining worries and troubles.
if someone once told you that kim hongjoong would be accepting his award and giving a speech with your arousal coating his lips, you'd call them a madman. but you sit and watch it happen, lips shinier than any lip gloss in the world.
𝐲𝐮𝐧𝐡𝐨
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opening the door and finding jeong yunho standing there just as you were mid blocking his contact was a punch to the chest.
"hello." he smiles. "is alex here?"
"i'm here, you don't need her now." you step aside to let him in.
you guide him to the living room and continue into your room, hoping he'd stay there. but he doesn't, instead following to the room which you've managed to clean this morning. as you search for where you left the disc while you were stressing over the accidental nude, yunho busies himself with touching your things.
"ah, the fateful joystick."
"stop, give me that." you reach for it, but yunho uses his tall card, simply holding the gadget high in the air. "not fair."
standing on your tiptoes as your fingers desperately try to grab it, you lose balance and fall on the man. he catches you with one hand around your waist, pressing you further against him. "careful."
"take it, i don't care. it's a stupid game that i keep losing in, anyway."
"want me to teach you? this would be my second playthrough. i lost the disc and when you said you had it, i had to."
when you agreed, you didn't think he'd teach you while he also makes you moan. every time you don't listen to his instructions and fail, his hips stop and he denies you an orgasm, leaving you whining and groaning in frustration. his hand rests on your arched back, while his other one pulls your hair so your eyes stay on the screen. his hips work slowly, giving you enough sensation to keep you focused too. once you finally get through the toughest level, he pushes your head into the mattress, slamming his hips against your ass and finally giving you a reward for your hard work.
𝐲𝐞𝐨𝐬𝐚𝐧𝐠
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conveniently, you sat in the front, next to yeosang who was driving. your cheeks redder than ever, your heart beating loudly, and your thighs pressed together. you felt wrong, but couldn't stop the gawking. his hands looked pretty when playing the violin, the guitar, and driving. it drove you insane.
"oppa, can you stop at a gas station so i can get some water?" one of your group members asks from behind, and the man doesn't take long before finding one and stopping.
all of them step out to refresh, leaving you and yeosang alone.
"i'm sorry." you don't hesitate to apologize as soon as they're gone.
yeosang is sitting on the edge of an open trunk, scrolling on his phone and avoiding you. or so you thought. he looks at you confused. "why?"
"for the picture. i'm sorry. i didn't mean to."
"i know you didn't, it's okay." he smiles assuringly.
"but- you didn't respond to my messages. i thought you were angry."
"i was..." he lowers his gaze, his cheeks a light pink colour. "i was in a dilemma. no man would stay careless after seeing a picture like that. especially me, since it's you."
"what?"
"you think i didn't notice all those clicks of the camera and you zooming in on my hands?"
and those very same hands have you bent over the open trunk, fingers drilling into you from behind as you moan into his other hand. you fear that the members might be back already, but yeosang assures you that he has it under control, urging you to relax and enjoy.
light squelching fills the trunk, along with his palm colliding with your bare ass with your skirt flipped over. in no time, the orgasm hits you like never before, and you hear yeosang gasp behind you.
"a squirter, huh."
well, now you were.
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6okuto · 1 year ago
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WEDDING MOMENTS
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gn!reader | kuroo, bokuto, akaashi, hinata, atsumu, osamu, ushijima
hello everyone i'm back 🫶 these are more reception moments than wedding but y'know. give me a break man...
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KUROO leans in and whispers in your ear as you dance, “is it bad i want to go home and just lie in bed with you now?” “why are you whispering as if someone can hear you?” you snicker back. tetsurou shoots you a cheeky smile. “so it looks like i’m saying something romantic.” you hit his shoulder, and he only laughs before pulling you into a tight hug. you wait for him to let go before replying. “idiot. but no, it isn’t. my back and feet hurt.” he hums, and you can feel his fingers tapping your back. “do you think it’s possible for newly weds to sneak out of their own wedding reception?”
BOKUTO is walking down the aisle again as everyone disperses to talk or get ready for the reception. you walk up to him, curiosity piqued as he bends down. “what are you doing?” “huh?” he drops a few petals that he was clutching. “crap—hi, baby. i’m just, uh, picking up some of the flowers to take with us. i saw someone do it online, and i thought we could press them or put them somewhere,” he explains softly, as if a little embarrassed. your heart flutters at the thought, and you smile before reaching down yourself. “we better get some flowers, then. and a ziploc bag or something.”
AKAASHI relaxes and rests his head against yours while you watch your guests mingling and dancing. you reach for his hand and intertwine fingers. “you okay?” he nods in response and presses a chaste kiss to your jaw. “yeah, i can finally calm down and not worry about something terrible happening.” “mm, something terrible could still happen.” “love of my life, can you please give your husband a break?” keiji blows air against your skin, eliciting a laugh from you. his tone is light, and you can feel him smiling even while you apologize.
HINATA takes one of the polaroid cameras that you got for the guests. you watch as he poses and takes a picture of himself before handing it to you. “do you want me to take a selfie?” he nods with a grin. “yeah! and also sign it so i can put it in my wallet, or maybe the back of my phone?” his sentence ends as a question to himself. you get your phone so you can check your appearance before mimicking your now husband’s pose. “sho, i swear if mine is bad i want a redo,” you say. he sputters as he looks at his forming photo. “well that’s good because i definitely screwed mine up. i’m like half in the frame.”
ATSUMU’s knee bounces as the video of your relationship the both of you got done nears its end. you shoot him a look, but he doesn’t seem to notice, gaze fixed on the scene. that’s when you hear a familiar voice, but unfamiliar clip start to play. “it’s, fuck, what day is it? november 13, and i’m pretty sure i need t’look for an engagement ring,” your now husband says into the camera. you gape, shock evident across your face. atsumu’s voice is soft as he says your name. “i love you, really. and if you’re seeing this then i didn’t fuck this up, and you decided to marry me, and i’m probably ‘bout to have a heart attack,” he nervously laughs. you turn to atsumu next to you, whose face is flushed red. “don’t look at me, the video isn’t done yet.”
OSAMU keeps holding your hand, and if he isn’t holding it he’s probably thinking of doing so. you don’t mind, finding comfort in the way he rubs the back of it. you’re sitting together when he silently reaches for it again. “i’m pretty sure you’ve held my hand more today than this entire week.” osamu rolls his eyes but smiles. you stare as he gently takes hold of your ring and fidgets with it. “sorry, can’t stop thinkin’ about how we’re actually married now.” you stare at each other, and he rests his chin in his palm. with his other hand, he brings yours up to press gentle kisses against the ring and your skin. “just another excuse to stay close t’you.”
USHIJIMA looks over when you poke his shoulder, and quickly realizes you’re trying to feed him some cake. “say ahh,” you sing song. it’s a half-joke, and you don’t fully expect him to accept, but he leans forward and opens his mouth, hand underneath the fork to catch any crumbs. despite his serious expression and stature, you can't help but think he looks cute. “i know we picked this flavour, but does it taste good?” you ask. wakatoshi nods. “it was a good choice.” he gets a forkful for who you assume is himself. but instead he lifts it toward you. “do you want to try now?”
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@devilgirlcrybabiey @lordbugs @smiithys @xfangirl-trashx @passionateuchiha @scaramouchesfootstool @fifteenshadesofpinkk @lotus-sukimono @chloee0x0 @kenmaslov3r @bakugosgrenade @semifilms @sakusasdirtyragdoll @dai-tsukki-desu @Thathoneybee3 @momoewn @aintgeluh @dazaisfavgf @simpforerenn @crystal-lilac @vhenis @omiigad @kur0-kawa @semispilledcoffee @ksyhmm @idontlikeyourjob @sparrowb3nscloset @awkwardaardvarkforever @rory-cakes @prblmtic @dimslover @kuroaka @vampyrkookie @sunaslay @the-midnightskies @h0n3ysgh0st @lackey-laufeyson @bontensbabygirl @dira333 @Kamukayakmonyet @danyisapingu @isentsworld @lilithlunas @anime-ships-gay @todorokiskitten @kellesvt @scill-a @curiouslilbeast @fiona782 @cvhenia @mitskiologist
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yanderecxre · 4 months ago
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Yandere!Retired Colonel headcanons
You only knew him by his nickname, "Saint", beyond that you knew nothing about him. But oh, did he know everything about you.
You, sweet and young, fresh outta college and working at the base he was stationed at before he decided to retire. You who took care of the daycare on base, who didn't even bat an eye at the insanity that the children you took care of looked like.
Saint even adopted a kid from the dumb program just to have an excuse to talk and see you, little Henry was a pain in the ass, literally and figuratively. The brat always clung to you, crying he didn't wanna go home. Making Saint look like a terrible grandfather. "Listen here you little brat, I'm trying to make sure they can't just up and leave, so start acting like I'm the greatest grandfather alive before you scare them off!"
Sweet, young bleeding heart little you. Always talking and smiling at him like he's some regular guy and not a powerful Colonel who could (and would if you ever tempted or forced his hand) ruin your budding little career before the hour ended. Of course though he'd never do that, not with how often he sees you now, at drop off, pick up, sometimes you ask guardians to help around the daycare, he's there every time.
Saint, who once he decides you're his, immediately gets to work implementing himself in your life, both personal and professional. Using little Henry as an excuse, poor boy getting used as an excuse for why the two ran into you everywhere you seemed to go. "Oh, hello Henry, Saint! What brings you two to the library?" You smile and ask as you hold a small stack of books, unaware that Saint was scanning the titles so he could ask you next time which was your favorite. Saint smiles and holds Henry's shoulder, laughing slightly. "Poor boy practically cried and threw a fit demanding we come to the library because he wanted to read and play in the kids section!" You were far too busy to see Henry glaring at Saint, his eyes darkening as you smiled and talked to him.
Saint, who finally asks you out on a proper date (you don't know of course that the date will be your last in a while, he already has your room set up in his cabin. Henry helped him pick everything out, the kid loved you too much to let his idiot of a grandfather make you feel unhappy.) When you accepted he smiled and offered to pick you up, you spent the rest of the day smiling and giggling as Henry clung to your leg pouting.
That night, you had a lovely date, perfect in every way, Saint was the perfect gentleman. Letting you order whatever you wanted and asking about your interests and life. He even insisted you call him by his actual name, Nicolas. He loved the way it rolled off your tongue, could only imagine you moaning and whimpering it as he went down on you later on-
You felt woozy during the last bit of the date, had you drank more than you thought, no way... you couldn't have, you looked up over at him, Saint looked perfectly fine, not like you. You stumbled slightly out your seat, he was there, holding you steady. "Oh dear, poor thing, let's get you home yeah sweetheart? You had lots to drink, I'll get your dessert to go." He murmured in your ear, holding you closely to his side his large hand firmly on your hip, keeping you near him.
The last thing you remember before passing out was Saint, helping you to his car. Hand on your hips as he assured you everything was alright, that you were just tipsy. Something in his voice made you feel weird but it got overshadowed by your head muddling as you whimpered softly and promptly passed out. You never knew that he drugged you, he wasn't a monster. He just needed you woozy enough to get you to his cabin.
"Don't look at me like that little brat, they're just unconscious. What? You gonna sleep by their bedside to protect their virtue?" "Yeah, because I don't trust you, grandfather." "You little fucker- Jesus! Did you just bite me?!"
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thevoidstaredback · 5 months ago
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How To Balance Your Daytime and Nighttime Activities So That You Don't Burn Yourself Out More Than You Already Have
A knock on the door was not what Danny was expecting that evening. In the two weeks of observation and one week of actually staying with the man, Danny had figured that Dick, for as friendly as he is, did not have many friends. And if he did, they didn't visit him a lot, if at all. So, a knock on the door exactly thirty minutes before Nightwing was set to go out was a suspicious surprise.
He answered it anyway.
On the other side of the door was a kid about his age, an inch or two taller. He had dark hair, pale skin, bright blue eyes, and eyebags dark enough to rival Danny's own. He also smelled faintly of coffee.
"Um," Danny started dumbly. "Hello?"
"I'm looking for Richard Grayson." The kid's accent was stronger than Dick's, putting him as a born and raised Gotham resident. There was also a hint of something that reminded Danny of Sam's parents. This kid comes from money.
"And you are?"
Obviously upset about being stalled, he huffed, "Timothy Drake. Are you going to let me in now?"
How does someone sound so rude and so polite at the same time? Obviously a skill Danny needs to learn. "Why-"
"Who's at the door, Danny?" Dick called from the hallway, making his way closer. He was in his Nightwing costume, minus the mask, but had covered it with a hoodie and sweatpants.
"Tim Drake," Tim introduced himself again, pushing Danny out of the way and entering the apartment to greet Dick with a handshake. "You're Bruce's Wayne's kid, Richard 'Dick' Grayson."
"Yeah, that's-"
"You need to come back and be Robin again."
There was a moment of silence as Danny closed the door softly. Then, "Excuse me?" Dick's smile was strained and his eyes narrowed slightly.
"You need to come back and be Batman's Robin again. You don't have to don the suit, but he needs you." There was a hint of desperation in Tim's voice now. "He's been spiraling since Jason died, and he's starting to hit harder. Most of the guys he beats up end up in the emergency room! Some of them have even died from their injuries! Batman needs your help! He needs a Robin."
Dick was quiet for a moment. "No."
"What?"
"I won't- I can't go back to being Robin. I can't go back to being in that house."
"Why not?"
"I just can't. Now, I don't know how you found me or how you found out who I was, but you need to go back to Gotham, Tim."
"But-"
"Now, Tim. You're parent's are probably freaking out about where you are right now."
Tim didn't say anything for a long moment, he feet rooted in place. Just as Dick turned around to go to the fire escape, he spoke, "My parents don't care where I am." Louder, he said, "Bruce is going to start directly killing people if you don't go back there and help him."
"Why should I help him?" Dick demanded. "He didn't even tell me that my little brother had died! I didn't even get to go to his funeral! And then Bruce had the audacity to punch me in the face and blame me for not being there! I'm not going back to Gotham, I'm not putting on the Robin suit again, and I sure as hell am not going to help Batman. he made it clear that he works alone, so let him." With his peace said, Dick took his hoodie and sweatpants off, donned his domino and escrima sticks, and left through the window fifteen minutes early.
Neither Tim nor Danny said anything for a long few minutes, neither bothering to move. Too many thoughts in each of their heads with no way to properly form words.
Finally, after nearly seven minutes, Danny's voice broke through the air. "I'm sorry he yelled at you."
Tim, having forgotten Danny was there, jumped and turned to face him. "What?"
"He hasn't been the same since Jason died, not that I know what he was like before."
"What do you mean?"
Danny moved into the kitchen, pulling down two cups, filling them with water before offering one to Tim and leading him to sit down on the couch.
"I don't know a lot about the situation, I've only been here for three weeks now, but I know that Dick is still hurting. Nightmares, hallucinations, the works. He's been more violent recently, too, but obviously not as much as Batman has been."
"You, uh, you know?"
"Yeah. Kinda hard not to figure it out while living here, and you coming in today didn't help that." Tim blushed and sipped his water. "Though, like you, I showed up on Dick's doorstep already knowing he's Nightwing."
"Oh? And how well did that pan out for you?"
Danny shrugged. "I offered him help and refused to leave until he accepted it."
Tim laughed. "That's what I did to Bruce!"
They shared a smile. Danny lifted his cup as if to toast. "Here's to a couple of goblins with hero complexes." Tim lifted his cup to join Danny's toast and they both took a drink.
Giggling, the two finished their water in relative quiet, the air around them comfortable.
"Say," Tim asked, putting his cup down on the coffee table, "How old are you?"
"Fourteen. You?"
"Same."
"Cool."
"You're parents know where you are?"
"Nope. I would ask if yours do, but you already answered that."
"Yeah, they aren't really around much. I did tell Alfred I'd be gone, though, so he knows I'm not home."
"Yeah, but does he know you're here?"
"No."
"Hm." A beat. "Who's Alfred?"
Another laugh startled out of Tim. "Bruce's butler. Did Dick tell you nothing?"
Danny shrugged again. "I haven't pushed for answers about anything; I'm not a therapist. I'm just here because he's going to end up killing himself at the rate he's been working himself."
"So is Bruce," Tim admitted softly, "But he's going to end up taking Gotham down with him if no one stops him."
"So what are you going to do?"
He thought for a long minute, weighing options in his mind before saying, "I guess I'll have to be the help he needs me to be."
Danny tilted his head sideways like a dog. "What do you mean?"
Tim squared his shoulders, though he was still hesitant. "Batman needs a Robin, and if Dick isn't going to be that for him, then I guess I'll have to be."
Another beat. "But do you want to be a vigilante?"
"Does it matter if I want to be?" Tim asks, "If I don't then no one will." He took a deep, steadying breath. "Gotham is my home. I can't let Bruce destroy it in his grief."
"I understand." Danny nodded, "But what you want does matter. I know I can't stop you, so I'm not going to try, but I'm going to make you promise me something." He made sure to hold Tim's gaze. "You ask for help when you need it." He held out his hand and waited.
"What?"
"You're phone. Give it to me." Reluctantly, he did so. As soon as the flip phone was in his hand, Danny put his number in it before giving it back. 'You don't have to do this alone, okay, Tim? Promise that you'll call me when you need help, okay? Any time of day, I'll answer."
Tim stared at his now closed phone, the weight grounding him for a moment. "Are you going to be a vigilante to help Nightwing?"
"I already am."
"Huh?"
"It's why I'm here, It's why I know I can't stop you and why I'm making sure you know I'll be here to help you."
Nothing else was said between the boys. Nothing else needed to be said.
Part 7 Part 9
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ryukatters · 1 year ago
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9:18 PM — s. geto ⁺˚⋆。°✩₊
content: fluff, friends to lovers, sort of self-ship coded, reader dates (shitty) men
pairing: suguru geto x gn! reader
a/n: got suguru on da brain rn. my first work for him! hello geto nation how we doin?? also i had to fight my autocorrect bc it kept changing geto to ghetto 😔
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“Surely, you must lack respect for yourself.”
“Excuse me?”
“You heard me," your best friend scoffs. 
It's not uncommon for you to end up at Suguru's doorstep, teary-eyed and sputtering after another failed attempt at romance. But he's hardly ever this mean. 
"What's so great about these guys? Tell me."
"They're...nice."
He sighs out your name in exasperation. He never uses that tone on you, ever. "You're literally miles out of their league. And they can't even afford to pay for both of your meals. How many times have you had to pick up the check for you and your date?”
You open your mouth to retort but wisely keep it shut. Suguru merely raises an eyebrow. 
"Exactly. How can someone be ugly and broke? Then still have the audacity to reject you? Pick a struggle."
"Well excuse me, mister 'I don't need dating apps because everyone just comes to me.' Not everyone is as fortunate as you are when it comes to romantic prospects." 
You're starting to question why you even came here in the first place. Indignation fills you as you slump down on Geto's couch, utterly defeated. 
He sits down next to you, placing a gentle hand on your knee with an even gentler look in his eyes. Your best friend's always been so kind, so thoughtful. That, paired with the fact that he's pretty easy on the eyes makes it easy to understand why he has suitors flocking from left and right. 
"Hey," he calls out, giving your knee a light squeeze. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset you."
"'s fine."
"No, it's not. It was insensitive of me.”
You know what else isn't fine? Geto wants to ask. The fact that you don't know what kind of guy you deserve. He wills himself to keep quiet, for both of your sakes. 
"Maybe the universe is trying to tell you something. That you have some karmic lessons you need to learn and all that. You say that all the time."
"I don't know. Maybe...maybe love just isn't in the cards for me, Suguru. I mean, what else could all of this mean?" 
You sniffle, and Suguru can feel his heart break into a million little pieces. He wants nothing more than to scoop up the shards and present them to you, in hopes that you can somehow press them back together to make it whole again. The same way you always come running back to him, the same way you trust him to mend your own heart time after time with gentle praise and reassurance. 
"Maybe every heartbreak is just bringing you closer to 'the one,’" he offers, the hand that was previously on your knee now rubbing comforting circles on your back.
"Do you honestly believe in that shit, Suguru?" He doesn't blame you for being so cynical. He would be too, he thinks. 
"I do," he professes without missing a single beat. 
"How?" Not why, but how? How could he possibly understand? How would he know if fate's thrown his so-called one and only his way?
"Because I've felt it," he hums. 
“You… have?” You’re not sure why you feel so disappointed all of a sudden. Why should you care if your best friend’s in love with someone?
“Why do you feel the need to look so far for love?” He counters.
“I…”
“Why don’t you try looking at what’s right in front of you for a change?”
That’s about as far as Suguru’s willing to lay it out for you— he hopes you can read in between the lines. Call it insurance— a way for him to spare his own feelings in case you decide he’s unworthy of your affection and toss him to the side of the road.
“Suguru, I’m not sure I understand what you’re trying to say…”
Yes, you do. Suguru wants to say. Just think a little harder. 
There’s a pregnant pause.
When he realizes that you’re unwilling to take another step forward, he figures he needs to just take the leap. Fuck the insurance. He needs to do as he says and prove to you that the trail of heartbreak behind you is all going to be worth it. Because you have him. Suguru can only hope that his love will be more than enough to heal you from a lifetime's worth of pain. 
“Give me a chance,” he whispers, his hands enveloping yours as he brings them up to his lips, pressing a sweet kiss to your knuckles. “Please. I’ll show you how you deserve to be treated, how you deserve to be loved.”
You gasp, unsure how to receive such a confession— especially one from Suguru, nonetheless. The two of you stay frozen for what seems like an eternity. You— afraid, inexperienced with being on the receiving end of anything remotely romantic. Suguru— tense, confession lying heavy in the room. It weighs down his soul with each passing moment he’s not yours. 
“Please,” he pleads, feeling the way your hands tremble in his. Or was it the other way around?
Fear begins to gnaw at Suguru’s insides, thoughts of losing you plaguing his mind as he wills himself to stay calm. He wants nothing more than to shrink into himself— until he hears you speak, tone light and teasing.
“Promise you won’t make me pay for our dinner on our first date?”
Suguru allows himself to let out a genuine chuckle, leaning forward to kiss your forehead.
“Wouldn’t dream of it.”
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batmanisagatewaydrug · 10 days ago
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hello sexy witch, I have a question that I've been quite embarrassed by. For reference, I'm a cis male. I've recently gotten more into anal stuff lately, I used to avoid it, then I found I only liked it as long as something was vibrating right on my prostate, and now I'm enjoying more as long as what I'm using is a comfortable size.
I'm way too scared to do any of this with my wife, however, and it comes to the more obvious, and more gross, part. The best way I can describe it is that there always seems to be something in the chamber, ready to deploy any time in the next 12 hours. I have tried playing at various times, after I've used the bathroom, or when I haven't had to go at all, but there's always something THERE. If the few times I've resorted to just using my fingers is any indication, it seems there's always some poop about a knuckle and a half, or so, deep. I always use condoms on toys, and gloves on my hand, so the cleanup is somewhat nicer, but the fact that something is in me so shallow, makes me embarrassed to hell. None of the partners I've done this with in the past had the same issue. Is this me imagining things, or is my body just weird in waste production? I nearly died the last time I did it because I, excuse the colourful language, literally fucked some shit out of me, and a nickel sized piece of poop ended up on the floor somehow.
I just want to avoid having something like that so I can enjoy it more, so I can do more stuff with my wife, and also so I don't have to deal with the smell afterwards when I'm cleaning up.
hi anon,
listen. look at me. have a seat, pour yourself some lemonade. it's got strawberries in it.
your body is a body doing what bodies do, which is be absolutely miraculous and also pretty gross. sex is so so so cool and also kind of disgusting, that's an okay thing to acknowledge. a lot of fluids happening, a lot of smells, a lot of tastes that we don't necessarily have to LOVE but do need to recognize as a natural occurrence that's just part of the process when we use our bodies in certain ways!
your body isn't weird, it's doing what bodies do. your anus can be a source of incredibly sexual pleasure and it's also where poop comes from, dude; that's okay. it's fine if things get messy sometimes. it sounds like you're taking every reasonable precaution re: keeping things clean, and if you're worried about future incidents of something getting on the floor, maybe a sexy little towel or tarp is in order.
listen. listen. genuinely, truly, I believe that if someone is unwilling to deal with the bodily function side effects that are tied to a particular sexual behavior, then maybe you need to put that on the shelf until you can handle the full reality of the situation.
you are fine. your body does not work exactly like other people's and that is fine. and if other people you're having sex with don't understand how an anus works and what the logical side effects are, and god forbid if they shame you for that, then that's a problem they need to sit with and they've helpfully flagged themself as a person you shouldn't be having anal sex with.
ease up and let your body be a body.
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steveseddie · 8 months ago
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not so fast
rated: t | cw: none apply | word count: 6,219
tags: steve harrington has a crush on eddie munson, accidental kissing, getting together, first kiss, steve is a Disaster in this
click here to read on ao3
***
Steve is running late for work.
And not just a little late either. More like, catastrophically late.
Like, ‘should’ve left his house ten minutes ago to even hope to make it on time’ kind of late.
Why?
There isn’t just one reason for how that happened- it’s been a series of mishaps that started with his alarm not going off this morning and ended with his car refusing to start.
“Because of fucking course!” Steve groans, twisting the key into the ignition a few more times before giving up.
After a string of creative curses and smacking his palms and his forehead against the wheel multiple times in frustration, he leaves his useless car and goes back to the house. As he crosses his driveway, he tries to think of ways to get himself to work.
First, he thinks of Nancy. He knows she’s giving Robin a ride to work today, but she’s probably dropped her off by now, punctual as she is. He has no way to reach her until she goes back home, and he’s pretty sure she mentioned something about hitting the library after dropping Robin off to do research for one of her articles for The Weekly Streak, so asking her for a ride isn’t an option.
Considering Steve’s only other friends are all fourteen-year-olds with no car and no license, he’s out of any other options pretty quickly after that.
If only he had a bike he could use, but the Harringtons got rid of those years ago. He could call Henderson and ask him to ride his bike here so Steve can take it to work. The kid will probably complain, but he owes Steve for the countless rides to the arcade and to Eddie’s trailer for their nerdy campaigns and-
Eddie!
Eddie has a car!
Eddie is Steve’s friend and he has a car!
After that realization hits, Steve rushes to the phone, dialing the number to the Munson’s trailer, which he memorized at some point during the last couple of weeks.
“Please, don’t be asleep. Please, pick up,” Steve mutters as the phone rings, tapping his foot anxiously against the floor. His eyes flick to the digital clock on top of the TV and he groans. God, he’s so late.
“Ugh, hello?” A sleepy voice asks and Steve sighs in relief. Finally, something going his way this morning.
“Eddie! Oh, thank God!”
“Fuck, man, why are you being so loud this early in the fucking morning?” Eddie grumbles, and Steve feels bad for clearly waking him up. Or he would if he had time to feel bad.
“Sorry, sorry, listen, I need a favor, I need you to pick me up and take me to work, my car won’t start and I’m supposed to be at Family Video in- crap, right now actually.”
“Dude-”
“Eddie, please. I have the keys and Robin can’t get in until I get there and she’s going to kill me-”
“Steve, relax, Je-sus!” Eddie interrupts.
“Please,” he repeats, feeling desperate. “If you do this, I’ll do anything you want.”
Eddie hums. “Anything, huh?” He asks in that low voice that always sends shivers down Steve’s spine. Even now, he can feel them, anxious as he is.
God, he really doesn’t have time for this.
“Munson,” Steve hisses.
“Okay, fine, I’ll do it. I’ll be there in ten.”
Steve winces, but he doesn’t say anything. It’s not like he can ask Eddie to disregard speed limits or traffic lights or other cars just so he gets here faster, the last thing he wants is for him to wrap his van around a tree because of him. “Okay, thanks.”
“Sure thing, sweetheart,” Eddie says before hanging up.
Since Steve has ten minutes before he gets here anyway, he gives himself one to get flustered over Eddie calling him that.
Then he uses the remaining nine to make Robin her favorite snack- peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, which she claims taste better when Steve makes them. It’s probably an excuse so Steve makes them for her every time, but right now it works in his favor. She’s going to be pissed when Steve shows up late- he can’t even call the video store to let her know he’s on his way! Not when she’s locked outsid e because Steve has the god-damned keys. He hopes the sandwiches will help soften her up at least.
He’s already in the driveway when Eddie’s van rolls around the corner. As soon as it slows down, he jumps in and tells him to “Go!” without saying even saying hello.
Eddie snorts. “Good morning to you too, Harrington,” he says with an amused half-smile, but he starts driving. Eddie isn’t a slow driver by a long shot, but Steve notices that he still steps on the gas a little harder than he normally would, which he appreciates.
He slumps back onto the passenger seat. “Sorry, hi, thanks for doing this.”
“No problem, man,” Eddie says, taking his eyes off the road for a moment to look Steve up and down. “Looks like you had quite the morning.”
Steve blows out a puff of air, running a hand through his hair. It probably looks like a mess right now because not only did he not have enough time to complete his routine, he’s also been anxiously running his fingers through it all morning. “You have no idea! First, my alarm didn’t go off so I had to rush through my shower and didn’t have enough time to fix my hair, then I couldn’t find my vest, then my car keys, and when I finally found those, my fucking car wouldn’t start!” He drops his hands on his lap with a huff.
“Sheesh, man,” Eddie says, somewhat sympathetically.
“Yeah!” Steve agrees as his hands start flailing again. “And now, Robin is gonna be pissed at me all day for being late, and for leaving her waiting outside the store.”
Eddie reaches over with one hand, squeezing Steve’s shoulder. “I’m sure she’ll forgive you quickly enough, Birdie can’t stay mad at anyone for long.”
“Um, yeah,” Steve stammers out when Eddie’s hand stays there, on his shoulder. “You’re probably right and I brought her PB&J sandwiches to soften her up a bit, so.” He chuckles, a little shakily because Eddie’s fingers are brushing lightly against his neck.
“See?” Eddie asks, giving Steve’s shoulder a little shake. “Give her those and flash those pretty doe eyes of yours at her, and she’ll forget why she was even mad in the first place!”
Steve shoves his hand away- because it should be holding onto the steering wheel, not because having it on him makes his stomach flip-flop.
He clears his throat. “Anyway, how was your morning, Munson?”
“My morning? Well, Harrington, it was just fine, thanks for asking. I was catching up on some lovely much-needed Zs after band practice ran late last night, but then the phone woke me up. Some guy yelling at me to come pick him up.”
Steve makes a face, chuckling softly. “That guy sounds like an asshole.”
“Nah, he’s actually a very sweet guy. Pretty, too.” He tosses a wink at Steve, who flushes pink. “And you know me, I’m so easy for a pretty face. I was already gonna say yes when he promised he’d do anything if I gave him a ride. No way I could refuse.”
“Well, I’m sure the guy is very grateful,” he says, then wrinkles his nose. “And hopeful that you won’t make him regret promising you that.”
Eddie throws his head back with a laugh. “Don’t worry, Stevie, I won’t ask for anything too embarrassing.”
“Ugh.”
The van falls into a comfortable silence, only the radio playing softly in the background. Steve is surprised that it’s not one of Eddie’s tapes playing, he’s always complaining about radio stations not playing any ‘real music’ and Steve’s witnessed, more than once, the way he dives for the glove compartment to dig out one of his tapes before he even starts the van. He can’t help but wonder if the reason why Eddie is listening to the radio is because he was rushing to get to Steve and didn’t even have time to pick a tape.
Whether it’s the truth or not, it makes a dopey smile appear on Steve’s face, thinking about Eddie not wasting any time looking for a cassette tape because he knew Steve was in a hurry. He also didn’t change out of his pajamas or pause to fix his hair on his way out, Steve thinks as he looks Eddie up and down. He’s currently in plaid pajama pants and an old band shirt with holes around the collar that Steve knows he wears to bed, and his hair is sticking out every which way even more than usual.
He looks cute like that, and Steve’s dopey smile only grows because of it.
“You know,” Eddie starts and Steve jumps, thinking for a moment that he caught him staring, but his eyes are still fixed on the road. “If you want I can take a look at your car? Old Al Munson didn’t just teach me how to hotwire them, you know? Maybe I can fix whatever’s wrong with it.”
Steve blinks. “Really?”
He’s sure that there must be hearts in his eyes right now. He was already dreading having to pay for a tow truck to take his car to the mechanic and then pay to fix whatever was wrong with it. That kind of money would really put a dent in his plans to save enough for a place of his own, so Eddie fixing it for him would be a great help.
“Of course, Stevie,” Eddie says, flashing him a dimpled grin. Yup, definitely hearts in Steve’s eyes right now. “I can drive you home after your shift and take a look at it. I’ll bring Wayne’s tools.”
The visual of Eddie bending over the hood of Steve’s car with a tool belt around his tiny waist pops up in Steve’s mind without a warning, making warmth pool in his stomach.
He shakes his head and focuses on the Eddie in front of him- sweet, cute Eddie who is offering to give Steve a ride and help him with his car. Yeah, that’s really not any better than sexy mechanic Eddie from his fantasies.
“That would be awesome, Eds, thank you,” he says, possibly a little too earnestly.
It makes Eddie a little shy. He winds some of his hair around his finger and pulls it in front of his mouth. “Don’t go singing praises at me yet, I might not be able to fix it.”
“Maybe not, but I appreciate it anyway, the ride back home too,” Steve says softly. If Robin was here she would tell him to tone it down with the googly eyes and the mushy smiles, the way she does when the three of them hang out-
Shit. Robin.
He checks his watch and a whine slips past his lips.
Eddie notices and the van takes on speed as he pushes his foot harder against the pedal. “We’re almost there,” he says reassuringly.
Steve nods, but his leg stays bouncing anxiously for the rest of the drive.
***
Finally, Eddie drives the van into the Family Video parking lot.
Steve looks for Robin in the distance, squinting his eyes, wanting to gauge just how angry she looks. If she looks like she’s about to murder Steve, he might just tell Eddie to keep driving.
When he spots her, Steve’s stomach falls. She doesn’t look angry, but that’s only because she has an apologetic look on her face as she talks and gestures wildly to a family of three. Steve can’t read her lips, but he figures she must be explaining to them how her coworker and best friend is an idiot who doesn’t know how to work an alarm clock and that he should be getting here any minute now so she can murder him but not before she sends them on their merry way with whatever movie they’re here to rent and a bunch of candy and popcorn. On the house, of course.
“Fuck me,” Steve mutters, slumping back against the seat.
They never get customers this early on Sundays. Never.
Go fucking figure.
Eddie also squints his eyes through the windshield and scrunches up his nose at what he sees. “Maybe you can bribe them with PB&Js too?”
Steve appreciates Eddie trying to lighten his mood, but all he can muster right now is a slight huff of laughter. He starts gathering his things, ready to jump from the van as soon as Eddie parks.
“What time should I pick you up?” Eddie asks as he starts slowing down the van.
“Uh, I get off at four,” Steve says, just as he makes eye contact with Robin. She manages to glare at him while keeping her polite customer service face on. It’s impressive. “If Robin doesn’t kill me first.”
Eddie sniggers. “I don’t think she’ll kill you, maybe hurt you, or put Nair on your shampoo.”
Steve whimpers pathetically at the thought. The van slows to a stop. With the keys to the store in one hand and his Family Video vest in the other, Steve pushes the door open. He already has one leg out when Eddie says, “Wait!”
Steve half turns in his seat and gives him an impatient look, but it shifts into a grateful one when he sees that Eddie is holding the Tupperware with the sandwiches.
“Not so fast, sweetheart, don’t forget your bribe,” Eddie tells him with a lopsided grin.
Later, Steve will ask himself why he did what he does next, but the truth is, he doesn’t know.
Maybe it’s because he’s in a hurry and his body is moving faster than his brain. Maybe it’s because he had a shitty morning and Eddie swooped in like a knight in plaid pajama pants and a worn band shirt. Maybe he smashed his head too hard against the steering wheel of his car earlier that morning. Maybe it’s Eddie’s dimples or maybe it’s the pet name.
The thing is he doesn’t know what does it, just that something gets his wires crossed somehow, and before he knows it, he’s leaning over the space between their seats and pressing a quick kiss to Eddie’s mouth.
He doesn’t even realize he does it. Not yet.
He just grabs the Tupperware from Eddie’s limp hands, throws a “bye, Eds!” over his shoulder, and shuts the van door.
Robin’s head snaps in his direction as he makes his way across the parking lot, attempting to put on his vest without dropping the keys or the sandwiches. The family is watching him too and luckily they don’t look mad about having to wait- Steve checks his watch- shit, thirty minutes for him to get here.
“Hi, hello, I’m so sorry,” he starts apologizing before he even gets to them. He tosses the keys to Robin, who fumbles to catch them, so he can finish shrugging on his vest. “I’m so terribly sorry I kept you waiting,” he tells the family while Robin unlocks the door and flips the sign so it says Open! “My alarm didn’t go off and then my friend had to drive me ‘cause my car wouldn’t start and I couldn’t find my godda-rn vest!” He corrects himself when his eyes dart to the kid staring up at him. “But none of that matters now! Because I’m here and we’re-”
“Open!” Robin says, sweeping her arm in front of the door with a flourish, kind of like Eddie does sometimes.
Speaking of Eddie, Steve glances over his shoulder and notices that the van is still there.
Which, weird. But right now there’s nothing he can do about that.
Instead, he starts ushering the family inside, putting on his most charming smile. “Come in, come in, we’ll have you out of here in no time!” He says, following after them.
He makes eye contact with Robin over the kid’s head and mouths I’m so sorry, grimacing when she glares at him. But at least she holds the door open for him too, instead of letting it slam on his face, which he probably deserves.
Once inside, Steve helps the family find the movie they’re looking for in record time while Robin starts the computer system. By the time he guides them back to the counter, she’s ready to log it into the system. They give them an extra couple of days to return it, for the trouble, as well as all the Milk Duds and cherry licorice they want. On the house. Then they wave at them as they head out, throwing a “Thank you for choosing Family Video!” for good measure.
When the door closes, Steve spins around to face Robin on the other side of the counter. “I’m so sorry, Robs,” he says with as much feeling as he can muster.
She pokes him in the chest several times with her bony fingers. “You owe me so much! I’ve been apologizing to that family for thirty minutes, dingus!”
“I know! I’ll clean the floors today and I’ll take care of the reshelving and you can take an extra long break and I won’t say anything!”
Robin doesn’t speak, just glares. Steve grabs his Tupperware, his last resort, and pushes it across the counter toward her. “I made you PB&J sandwiches. Your favorite.”
She heaves out a long sigh. “Okay, fine, I forgive you, but you’re doing all of that and you’re letting me pick the movie of the day and you’re watching it with me.” Steve nods profusely. The corners of her mouth twitch up, and even if it’s not a full smile, Steve feels relief flood through him. “Now come on, let’s finish getting this place ready for business, and then we can have those sandwiches and you can explain how you got here so late.”
“Yes, ma’am!” Steve says, giving her a two-fingered salute like he’s seen Eddie do many times.
Speaking of Eddie, Steve squints at the parking lot before following Robin’s lead- turning on lights and straightening cardboard cutouts.
He notices that the van is finally gone, and so is Eddie.
***
“Then I almost left the sandwiches in Eddie’s van!”
Robin gasps dramatically, cradling her half-eaten PB&J against her chest. She’s in a much better mood now, after one and a half sandwiches, more apologizing from Steve and his dramatic retelling of this morning’s events.
“Which would be just my luck today, I swear! But Eddie wouldn’t let me forget them,” Steve says, his smile turning dopey the moment he brings up Eddie. He knows this because he sees Robin rolling her eyes. “So I grabbed them and then I-”
And that’s when it hits Steve. What he did. Almost an hour after the fact.
The fact being- He kissed Eddie.
“Oh God,” he mutters, horrified. “Oh fuck, oh God.”
“What? Are you having a stroke? What is it?” Robin asks, eyes widening in alarm. “Steve?” She waves her hands in front of his face and bread crumbs fly everywhere. Steve knows he’s going to have to clean those, but right now he doesn’t care about that at all.
He lets out a pitiful whimper, his hands flying to his face. “Oh my God!”
“Steve, what?”
“I kissed Eddie,” he says, but the words are muffled by his hands over his face.
He hears Robin let out a sigh. “Steve, my best friend, my platonic soulmate with a capital P. I know we joke about it but I can’t actually read your mind. I’m gonna need you to speak more clearly.”
Dropping his hands onto the counter, Steve’s eyes meet hers, then he says, loud and clear, “I kissed Eddie.”
Robin’s face goes through many different emotions in like, twenty seconds. Shock, confusion, something that Steve dubs her fucking finally, dingus! expression, and then, outrage.
“Wait! So you were late because you were busy kissing Eddie? Steve!” She says on her way to get angry again, but Steve starts shaking his head before she’s done talking.
“No! Robs, I was running late and then I kissed Eddie as I was getting out of the van!”
The outrage disappears and she grins at Steve. “Fucking finally, dingus!” She says, and yup, that’s the one, Steve got it right. She holds her hand up for a high five, but Steve grabs her hand between his instead, shaking his head.
“No, Robin, no, this is bad.”
“Why? You like Eddie!”
“I do! I like him so much, but he was never supposed to find out, and definitely not by me just- kissing him!” He says, shaking his hands wildly and Robin’s too since it’s still trapped between them.
“Okay, first, I need my hand back,” Robin says, extracting her hand from Steve’s hold. “Now, what did Eddie do when you kissed him? Did he kiss you back or did he go like, ahhh and pushed you out of the van?”
“I- I don’t know. Nothing?” Steve tries to remember, but his whole morning was a blur. It’s just his luck that he finally kisses the boy he likes and he can’t even remember it. “He just- sat there. Actually, he sat there for a while because he was still here when we were helping that family. Oh my God, is that bad? Do you think he’s mad? Robs, what do I do?” He drops his head on the counter and feels Robin pat his head. He doesn’t even care that her hand is sticky with peanut butter and jelly.
“You said he’s picking you up later?” Steve makes what’s supposed to be a noise of assent. “Okay, so you talk to him.”
“If he even shows up.”
Another pat. “I’m sure he will and then you just tell him the truth. That you kissed him because-”
“I was having a stroke?” He says, twisting his head to one side so he can look at her.
Robin rolls her eyes. “I said the truth, dingus.”
“But the truth is so embarrassing. So, Eddie, I kissed you because I think you’re cute, I kissed you because you came to my rescue this morning, I kissed you because you called me sweetheart and it might’ve melted my brain. I kissed you because I finally let myself do what I’ve wanted to do for weeks!” He groans pitifully. “What if he doesn’t like the truth, Robin? What if he doesn’t like me?”
“You know what I think about that,” she says and Steve does know. She’s told him that she thinks Eddie feels the same way over and over while trying to convince him to make a move, but Steve doesn’t believe her. “But if he doesn’t, then at least you’ll know. And whatever happens, you’ll have me and an endless supply of romantic movies we can both cry to! And ice cream, lots and lots of ice cream!”
Steve lifts his head fully from the counter and smiles gratefully at her. “Thanks, Robs.”
“Of course, Steve, now come on! I know what movie I’m picking today!” She says, hopping onto the counter and swinging her legs over it, barely missing Steve’s head.
“Ugh, not Children of Paradise again, please.” Steve groans when Robin grabs hold of his wrist and pulls him in the direction of their romantic drama section.
She does pick that one again and Steve has no choice but to go with it, but at least with a two-part movie, he’s distracted for a whole two hours and forty-five minutes so he doesn’t think about Eddie or what he’ll say to him later.
Not that much anyway.
(Okay, maybe he does.)
***
Steve half expects Eddie to not show up, and a part of him wishes he’s right, so he doesn’t have to talk to him yet- or ever.
He’s surprised when, at four o’clock, he sees the van roll into the Family Video parking lot.
That surprise quickly turns into horror and he must make some kind of noise that alerts Robin and makes her follow his gaze.
“I told you he’d come!”
He turns to her with a pleading look. “Please let me hitch a ride with you and Nancy, Robs, I can’t do this.”
“You can, Steve,” she says, putting her hands on his shoulders to guide him toward the door. Steve tries to put up some resistance, digging his heels into the floor, but she puts her whole body into it and manages to get him moving.
“What if I kiss him again?”
Robin snorts. “Maybe try to have a conversation with him first,” she suggests, pulling the door open and shoving Steve through it. “And if it turns out that he wants to kiss you then go for it!”
“But what do I even say?”
“You’re asking me that? Pfff. I’m hopeless, you know that. Just be honest, okay? And call me as soon as you get home to tell me everything!” And with that, she shoves him toward Eddie’s van. Steve stumbles a few steps, thankfully catching himself just before he eats dirt.
When he looks up, he sees Eddie staring at him through the windshield. He probably just saw Steve nearly faceplant in the parking lot- and Steve’s supposed to hope Eddie wants to kiss him after that? Yeah, right.
With a sigh, he starts walking towards the van. He reaches the passenger door sooner than he’d like, and after bracing himself, he opens the door and climbs inside.
“Hey,” Steve says, wiggling his fingers in a wave.
He notices that Eddie’s hands are clinging to the leather of the steering wheel. He gives Steve a smile that looks a little strained. “Hey, Steve.”
An awkward silence falls over them and Steve’s fingers itch to open the door and run away, but he can see Robin chatting with Nancy, the two of them standing next to her car, and he’s sure that if he makes a run for it, Robin will chase him down and drag him back to the front seat of Eddie’s van herself.
So he stays where he is and glances at Eddie, noticing that he looks different from this morning.
“You changed your clothes-” he starts, but Eddie chooses that moment to also start talking.
“Seems like Buckley’s in a better mood-”
They both cut themselves off when the other speaks, looking at each other and laughing a little awkwardly.
Eddie looks down at himself. He’s wearing ripped jeans, a self-made Corroded Coffin shirt, and his hair is pulled back into a ponytail, which allows Steve to see the earrings adorning his right ear. “I did change clothes. I don’t just hang around and do nothing in my pajamas all day. Sometimes, I wear jeans,” he says, making Steve snort. “So, did the PB&J sandwiches work?” He asks, gesturing at Robin across the parking lot. Steve can see her glancing towards the van every couple of seconds. She’s not being subtle.
“They did, but I also had to let her pick this long French drama for movie of the day and let her take an hour-long break. And also apologize like, three hundred times.”
“Damn, Buckley’s tougher than I thought,” Eddie whistles, eyebrows shooting up in surprise. “But she let you off the hook?”
“Yeah, we’re good.”
Eddie nods. “Cool.”
Another silence. This one’s less uncomfortable, but it still feels like something is hanging over their heads. No, not just something.
Steve sighs. Might as well get it over with.
“So,” he says.
“So,” Eddie echoes, flexing his fingers around the steering wheel.
“I kissed you.”
There, he said it. It’s out there.
Eddie inhales sharply. “You did.” His knuckles start to turn white with how hard he’s gripping the wheel. “Um, why did you?”
He remembers Robin’s words. The truth, Steve. Just tell him the truth.
“Honestly, I don’t know. I didn’t even realize I did it at first,” Steve says, running a hand through his hair, keeping his eyes on his lap.
“So it was just- what? An accident? You- you didn’t mean it?” Eddie’s voice sounds uncharacteristically small, quiet. Steve risks glancing at him, and when he does, he finds that Eddie has shrunk in on himself. His eyes meet Steve’s for a split second and he looks hurt, like he wanted the kiss to mean something.
And Steve can’t have him thinking that it didn’t. No way.
He turns sideways on his seat, leaning forward, closing some of the distance between them.
“I didn’t realize I did it because I’m so used to thinking about kissing you,” Steve admits. Eddie’s eyes snap up to meet his- wide, hopeful.
“You- you are?”
Steve nods, feeling his cheeks turn pink, but he doesn’t let that stop him. “I’m just usually better at stopping myself from doing anything about it, but today,” He shakes his head, letting out a shaky laugh. “You swooped in to help me and were looking so cute in your pajamas and you were smiling at me with your dimples and I- I just did it, without thinking. So I didn’t mean to do it, but I meant it.”
Eddie’s lip is trapped between his teeth as he chews on it nervously. It’s very distracting, but Steve does his best to keep his eyes off his mouth and on his eyes, which are sparkling as he thinks over Steve’s words. “Holy shit, you did?”
“Yeah, I meant it so much that when I realized what I did, I started panicking.”
Finally, Eddie lets go of the steering wheel, slumping back against his seat, and huffing out a burst of air. “Thought I was the only one who was panicking.”
Steve’s eyebrows knit. “Why would you be panicking?”
Eddie shoots him an incredulous look. “Because! You kissed me and then just- said goodbye like- like you didn’t turn my world fucking- upside down with that kiss, pun absolutely intended. I didn’t know if for you it was like, a friend thing or a mistake or-”
“Not a friend thing,” Steve says, “and not a mistake.”
Eddie lets those words sink in then starts nodding in a way that makes him look like the Chewbacca bobblehead toy he keeps next to his bed. Steve has to bite down on a smile. “Okay. Okay, good, because I want you to do it again.”
“Huh?”
Eddie meets his gaze. “You took me by surprise this morning, but I want you to kiss me again. So I can kiss you back this time.”
Steve’s stomach flips. “Holy shit.” He doesn’t move right away and Eddie looks at him expectantly, not taking it back, waiting for Steve to kiss him again. And what the fuck is Steve even waiting for? “Shit, yeah, okay.”
His hand catches Eddie’s jaw, cradles it with his palm, and he leans over the space between the two seats for the second time that day. Only this time, he moves slowly, committing everything to memory- the way Eddie’s breath hitches when Steve touches his face, the way he goes cross-eyed staring at Steve as he moves closer, the way he whines when their lips brush, not quite touching yet.
And finally, the way Eddie fists the lapel of Steve’s Family Video vest, and in an impatient move, pulls him towards him, crashing their mouths together.
And Steve- well. Steve doesn’t know how he did this already and didn’t remember until an hour later. Because this? He’s never forgetting this.
Eddie’s mouth is warm and soft. There’s a small cut on his bottom lip, no doubt from him chewing on it hard while panicking. When Steve flicks his tongue over it, Eddie yelps, but then he’s tugging Steve even closer by his vest and he’s licking into Steve’s mouth and Steve’s brain goes offline. He gets lost in the kiss. Lost in Eddie. He’s drowning and he never wants to come up for air.
But sadly that’s not something he can do. At some point, he has to breathe so he breaks the kiss but he doesn’t go far. He stays in Eddie’s space, his hand stroking over his jaw. And even if he wanted to move he wouldn’t be able to go anywhere, not with the hold Eddie has on his vest.
“I say this should count as our first kiss,” Eddie whispers, his forehead resting against Steve’s.
“What’s wrong with our actual first kiss?”
“Dude,” Eddie says, and the fact that he’s calling him that while their faces are a few inches from each other after kissing, makes Steve giggle. “The kiss lasted like, a second and you ran away right after!”
Steve’s face scrunches up. “Yeah, maybe it wasn’t my best work.”
Eddie snorts. “It really made me question everything I heard about Steve Harrington’s kissing prowess.”
“My- what? Where did you even hear that?”
Eddie shrugs, making Steve’s hand fall from his jaw to his shoulder where he starts playing with a curl that slipped free from his ponytail. “I used to hang out under the bleachers a lot, and heard many girls gossiping about your mad kissing skills.” He waggles his eyebrows, making Steve laugh. “So imagine my surprise when you go and kiss me like- like my grandma used to kiss me! I thought they had to be talking about someone else.”
Steve’s cheeks go red, but he tries to save some face by asking, “And after that second kiss, do you still think they were wrong?”
Eddie gulps. “Nope.”
“Good,” Steve says with a pleased smile. “Then maybe we can count this as our first kiss, I wouldn’t want my reputation to be ruined when we tell people about this.”
Eddie doesn’t laugh at the joke. He’s back to chewing on his lip, which is significantly more distracting now that Steve knows what those lips feel and taste like, but right now he focuses on the way Eddie’s eyes start flickering all over the inside of the van, not meeting Steve’s when he quietly asks, “This?”
“What?”
“You said this like, what do you mean? What is this?” He lets go of Steve’s vest to gesture between them. “Is it like, just kissing or do you, uh, do you want to be with me? Like, boyfriends or something?”
“Exactly like boyfriends,” Steve says, making Eddie squeak adorably. “If that’s what you want.”
“Steve, God, there’s nothing I want more,” Eddie says with a dopey smile that rivals Steve’s.
Except it doesn’t because Steve is beaming at the thought of being Eddie’s boyfriend. Of Eddie being his boyfriend. Christ. He would be embarrassed about how giddy he feels if he couldn’t tell Eddie was riding the same high as he is.
“Then I guess I should give my boyfriend that ride home that I promised him, hm?” He asks, leaning back on his seat, but not before he leaves a fleeting kiss on the corner of Steve’s mouth.
And God, hearing Eddie call him that makes Steve feel like he’s floating. “Yeah, you should.”
He leans back too as Eddie starts the van. Steve glances across the parking lot before he drives them away and realizes that Nancy’s car is gone. They must’ve taken off around the time Steve kissed Eddie after Robin realized Steve wouldn’t try to run.
“I promised you something too, if I remember correctly,” Steve says, looking out the window as Eddie drives them onto the main street. His eyes flick towards Steve, one of his eyebrows raised. “I promised I’d do anything if you gave me a ride to work, remember?”
Eddie’s eyes widen as he realizes what he’s talking about. He teased Steve about this all morning and now it’s his turn to return the favor.
“And now that we’re together the list of things I can do got significantly bigger so you might want to think about how you want me to pay you back,” he says with a smirk.
Color starts rising from Eddie’s neck to his cheeks and then to his ears. “I- shit, you want me to think about this while I drive?” His voice goes higher in pitch as he stammers more words out. “Do you want me to crash this fucking van, Steve? Jesus!”
Steve just laughs, relaxing back against his seat. He trusts Eddie not to get them into an accident, but just to be on the safe side, he stops teasing him and reaches for the volume dial on the radio, turning the music up.
He steals glances at Eddie as he drives, thinking how the end of his day did a complete turn from how it started. His morning had been a disaster, especially when he thought he ruined things with Eddie.
But now, Steve is heading home after kissing the boy he likes, and he gets to watch him play sexy mechanic while fixing his car, and he gets to do something about it if he wants- like kiss Eddie stupid against the hood of his car.
So, in retrospect, Steve thinks, his alarm not going off this morning might actually be the best thing to ever happen to him.
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sourcherryandsprinkles · 1 year ago
Text
Let's play a little game | Ethan Landry x Reader
Summary: You get a phone call from a masked ID when you’re home alone…
Word count: 2k
Warnings: smut, fingering, p + v action, ambiguous consent, home invasion, cheating,
my taglists are here + you can send requests here at any time
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You looked at your reflection in the mirror as you brushed your hair, admiring how hot your body looked in those small shorts and cami. The rumors were true, you really looked your best in your early adulthood. You posed, making sure all your curves were in a flattering angle, and sent a picture to your boyfriend. It was a bummer Chad was away in Woodsboro for the weekend when you looked that good.
After exchanging some naughty texts with Chad, you called Tara if she wanted to come over and watch horror movies. The weather had been gloomy and cold all day, which was perfect for the occasion.
‘’If you had called me two hours ago, I would be running over in my pajamas and bringing along my fuzzy blanket, but I may have gotten a call from a certain brunet from my film class and agreed to go on a date…tonight.’’ Tara covered her mouth to stifle her excitement, but you could hear it in her voice.
A smile bloomed on your lips, excited for your friend. ‘’Oh my god! He did?’’
‘’Yes.’’ On the other side of the line, Tara paused, her head full of Tyler. ‘’I’m so nervous. It’s my first date ever.’’
‘’It’ll be okay, T,’’ you reassured her. ‘’And if he turns out to be a jerk, excuse yourself to the bathroom and send me a text. I’ll call you and fake an emergency.’’
Tara promised, then hung up to finish getting ready for her date. She needed to leave before Sam got home and asked a plethora of questions. Maybe she’ll do a full search on Tyler to make sure he’s not a crazy Stab fanatic like her own ex-boyfriend.
You were about to shoot a text to Anika, but your phone rang again. This time, the caller ID was masked.
You answered with a frown.
‘’Hello?’’ a distorted male voice said.
Your frown deepened. ‘’Eh, shouldn’t I be the one saying ‘hello’?’’
‘’Who is this?’’
‘’Who are you trying to reach?’’
‘’I don’t know.’’ There was a short silence, then the man spoke again. ‘’Do you like scary movies?’’
‘’Yeah.’’ You took a body-spray from your vanity desk and spritzed a little on you, smiling when the sweet caramel scent filled the air.
‘’What’s your favorite scary movie?’’
You took a moment to think. ‘’Probably Jennifer’s Body. Does that count? It’s more of a horror comedy, but I’ve watched it a thousand times.’’
The stranger hummed. ‘’The one with the hot chick that eats her best friend’s boyfriend?’’
‘’Yes!’’
‘’Speaking of boyfriend, do you have a boyfriend?’’
‘’Why? You want to ask me out on a date?’’ you joked, fixing the pendant of your necklace that had flipped over.
‘’Maybe.’’
‘’If you want to ask someone out on a date, calling on a masked ID is not the best way. It gives off stalker vibes.’’
‘’I’m not a stalker.’’
‘’How can I know you’re not?’’
‘’If I were a stalker, I would tell you how hard my cock is just from looking at you in those pajamas.’’
You gulped uncomfortably, standing from your vanity chair and going to your window to peer through the curtains to see if anyone was outside. You were on the tenth floor. How would anyone get up there from the outside? It didn’t make sense.
But it was the only window in your bedroom…
‘’I…I’m gonna hang up. I need to take my dog out.’’
It was a lie. You didn’t have a dog, but the stranger on the other end didn’t know that.
‘’Don’t hang up on me!’’ he yelled at you.
You did anyway.
Seconds later, the phone rang again. Fuck.
‘’Why are you calling again?’’ you snapped at the caller, not bothering to check the ID. You knew it was him.
‘’To apologize, of course.’’
‘’Okay. You did. Now bye.’’ You pulled the phone away from your ear, but the man yelled at you.
‘’If you hang up again, I’ll come inside and gut you!’’
The threat was stronger and starting to scare you, but you couldn’t let him know.
‘’You’re bluffing,’’ you said, praying your voice wouldn’t falter. ‘’I’m on a high floor. You can’t get to me.’’
‘’From the outside, no. But who said I’m not already inside.’’
Fear settled in your guts as your phone buzzed with a text message. A picture. Someone in a Ghostface mask standing in your bedroom. He had a knife in his hand and you had a feeling it wasn’t a fake one.
When was this taken? And where was he now?
You searched your vanity for something to use as a weapon. There was a ton of makeup, a few perfume bottles, your hairbrush — all useless. Then your eyes fell on your manicure scissors. You used them a few nights ago to cut a thread from a shirt. They were small but pointy. It could injure your stalker.
Scissors tight in your hand, you stood from your chair and ventured to your living area. It was a very small apartment. The living room and kitchen were merged into the same room and all the lights were off. You turned the main light on, illuminating the whole room, but saw no one.
The curtains were closed. They were tall and thick enough for someone to hide behind.
Putting your fictive big-girl pants on, you walked to the window to check, but jumped and when you heard the distorted voice in your ear.
‘’Let’s play a little game. I say something and you do as I say….or else I’ll use that sharp knife on you. Got it?’’
You gulped and nodded. A part of you wanted to call the cops and signal a home invasion, but if your intruder was already inside, they would never get to you on time. Even at night, New York traffic was a nightmare.
‘’Take those little shorts off. I want to see those lacey panties you have on underneath.’’
You didn’t want to, but you reached for your small dolphin shorts anyway. You weren’t shy with your body, but getting undressed for a stranger to jerk off to you made you stomach churn. Your fingers touched your waistband, about to pull your shorts down, but stopped when you remembered you were not wearing anything under.
‘’I-I'm not wearing any.’’
‘’Don't lie to me. I can see those tiny shorts from here.’’
You looked around the room, trying to figure out where he was hiding. Your bedroom window was already out of the options. Your bed was a box and your closet and the bathroom door were shut. Where the hell was he hiding?
‘’Not the shorts,’’ you corrected. ‘’The��panties.’’
‘’Naughty girl.’’
You should be disgusted, but you found yourself blushing — and slightly turned on — at the creepy stranger's words. Was it the Ghostface mask that was suddenly having this effect on you? You did feel a strange liking to the masked killers when you watched horror movies.
‘’Strip.’’
You fumbled to push your dolphin shorts down and out of the way, exposing yourself bare.
‘’Now go back to your room, get on the bed and sit against the pillows.’’
You did as told and leaned back into your pillows, but kept your knees closed. You could sense where this was going. Men loved to watch a girl touch herself. If you look at their internet history, you’ll find a ton of porn videos of women touching themselves.
He tutted you. ‘’Don't try to hide. Spread your legs. I want to see.’’
You knew you shouldn’t part your legs, but your arousal was getting stronger at every instruction. It’s like he had casted a spell on you and you were helpless to disobey him.
God, you should be disgusted with yourself. How could you be turned on by a masked intruder in a Ghostface mask asking you to strip and give him a free view of your intimate parts?
Shutting your subconscious, you parted your legs and exposed yourself, shivering when you felt the cool air of the room.
You heard a groan in your ear. ‘’That’s a beautiful pussy. Show me how wet you are for me.’’
Your free hand slid down your body and to your mound, then lower. You sighed as you reached your folds, spreading them and showing the way your lips glistened with wetness.
‘’Am I wet enough for you, Mr. Ghostface?’’ you asked into the room, sliding your finger up and down your folds a couple of times.
‘’Why don’t you stick a finger inside? Play with yourself for me.’’
A soft moan slipped from your lips as you did, your finger sliding easily. You thrusted in slowly, then out, and repeated. The pace was too slow for your personal liking, but you knew how to tease and turn on a partner. Watching a video of your fingers sinking in and out of yourself, coated with your arousal had made your boyfriend cum in his dorm bed many times.
But let’s not talk about Chad now.
You added a second finger and caught your bottom lip between your teeth when you curled them. You wish you had your pink vibrator for your clit, but your other hand was occupied holding your phone.
‘’Mmh, you’re making me so fucking hard right now.’’
‘’Are you touching yourself to the sight of me, Mr. Ghostface?’’ you asked, bringing your thumb to your clit and rubbing.
A distorted whimper came from the other side of the line. He was.
The sensations from your touches were sending fuzzy tingles from your neck to your dripping pussy, but it wasn’t enough. You needed more.
‘’Is that all you’re going to do? Are you going to just watch me fuck myself for your own pleasure like a selfish asshole…or are you going to come and fuck me?’’
The line went dead and all the lights went off, sending chills down your spine. You removed your fingers, unsure if this was part of the game or not.
‘’Hello?’’ you called into the darkness of your bedroom. ‘’Is someone there?’’
It was stupid to ask, having seen enough horror movies to know what happens to characters who ask that very question.
The light returned with a static noise and you jumped when seeing a tall Ghostface figure standing at the end of your bed, watching you intently. He pounced on your bed like a lion on his prey, grabbing you by the ankles and pulling you toward him.
A deafening scream left your throat, thinking he was going to kill you. Instead, he parted your thighs and lifted his robe, his pants already down to his thighs and his hard cock out. He wasted no time, thrusting himself between your wet folds and splitting your cunt open as you moaned out loud.
‘’You like being filled with my cock, uh? You unfaithful little whore!’’ the distorted voice said, grabbing your hips and pounding into you. ‘’Getting fucked by someone else while her boyfrined is away in California.’’
Unfortunately, you couldn't deny it. This cock felt fucking amazing.
You pushed all thoughts of Chad to the back of your head. You’ll figure this out later.
Right now, all you wanted to focus on was the man between your legs.
The sounds that rang from your throat were nothing short of obscene, mouth hanging open helplessly while he wrecked your pussy, his cock slick with the evidence of your arousal. You clawed at your sheets, your back arching from the bed from the intense pleasure filling your whole body.
Moans and grunts mixed with wheezings came from underneath the mask. Breathing must not be easy under the rubber mask. You reached out and took it off, gasping in shock when seeing who was underneath.
Ethan?!
You opened your mouth to speak, but he threw your legs over his shoulders and you cried out at the change of angle, not caring that your boyfriend’s roommate was fucking you.
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narryffdreaming · 7 months ago
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Summary: Harry and Gianna are best friends. He's been in love with her for years now, but she's dating someone else and he knows it's time to move on. When Harry finally agrees to go out on a blind date, Gianna reaches out — she just broke up with her boyfriend, and she needs her best friend. 
PART ONE AU, friends to lovers +18 (explicit language) 7k words I said to myself that I wouldn't do it, but I'm doing it anyway :D
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Harry knocks on the bathroom door once, and then twice. He turns his head to the side and leans in, trying to catch any indication of an answer over the music blasting from downstairs. 
It's hard to focus, though. The steady and rapid beat keeps banging from his ears to every corner of his brain, it echoes between the walls, and it seems to shake the ground beneath him. On top of that, even though he's on the second floor of the house, at the end of the hallway, and standing in an empty room, he can't tune out all the shouting, laughing, and cheering. All the people he walked past on his way in feel distant and muffled now, and yet he still can't hear one single thing through the white wood, which somehow makes everything even more annoying.
"Fuck," he whispers to himself, then steps away from the door. 
He can still run away. He can still let her know he's busy tonight. He can still tell her that he won't be able to make it because he has somewhere else to go. Because he has someone else to see. Because he's already on his way to the opposite side of town. 
He can… He still can… And also he should, right? He should tell her that. Mostly because, for once, it wouldn't even be a lie. 
Holy shit. 
Isn't it funny that, for the first time in three weeks, he wouldn't be lying to her? That for the first time he actually has plans to use as an excuse to not see her? That finally — finally — he's listened to his friends and agreed to move on? 
And isn't it funny that, despite all that, there he is, on a Friday night, ignoring everything and everyone, and standing inside a stranger's house just because she asked him to? 
Harry chuckles and rubs one hand across his face. He's so fucking stupid. 
Because yes… He can still say no to her. And he should say no to her. 
Except… 
He shakes his head, and grabs his phone. Who's he even trying to fool? He can't say no to her. Of course he can't. C'mon. It's Gianna we're talking about. His Gianna. His best friend. The one person in the world he would do absolutely anything for. Of course he can't say no to her. Not when she says she needs him. 
So… Ok. He needs to focus, instead. He needs to go straight to the point. He can't say no to her, but he can still say a quick hello and jump right into a goodbye. In and out. In a blink of an eye. He can be there for a friend, and still make it to his date.
Yes. 
C'mon!
He checks her last text one more time, the one she sent forty-three minutes ago: second floor, last door. hiding in the bathroom. With a sigh, he puts his phone back into his pocket and takes a step forward, then turns his head to the side and presses his ear against the white wood. He lifts his hand in a fist, and knocks again. And again. And again. And again.
First comes some cursing, and then her loud and muffled voice. "Go away!"
Harry closes his eyes and, before he can even register what's happening, his lips have already turned up into a smile. 
Gianna's voice is unmistakable. Not because there is something unusual or peculiar about it, but because it feels extremely characteristic of hers. Never too high, never too low. Always enough. It captures everything about her personality: the softness, the certainty, the brightness, the stubbornness, the kindness, the understanding, the annoyance, the reasoning, the confidence, the innocence, the strength, the— 
Harry blinks his eyes open, and clears his throat. 
He is there on a mission, so again, he needs to focus. Make sure she's ok, and make it in time for his date. 
"You're the one who asked me to be here," he points out, raising his voice, but not actually yelling.
And then, it only takes three seconds for him to hear the click of the door being unlocked. He steps back and faces the bathroom, then takes a deep breath and pulls his curls away from his forehead. 
Truth is, he hasn't seen Gianna in three weeks, and he can't deny he's dying to be around her again. To see the wrinkles on her face when she smiles, or the sparkles in her eyes when she tells him about something exciting that happened to her. 
Fuck. 
His stomach feels funny, and he gulps down. He absolutely hates this. 
The door cracks open, but Gianna barely gives herself enough space to look outside, let alone to give him the chance to look at her. 
"Is it just you?" she asks, peeking around him through the tiny gap she's created. 
Harry frowns, and snorts. "No, I just met a bunch of strangers downstairs and brought them up here to check on my friend who apparently locked herself in some random bathroom and—" 
"Okay, okay." She rolls her eyes and sighs, then steps aside. "I get it." 
She hides behind the door, and silently offers him more room to walk in. 
Harry shakes his head and presses his lips into a tight line, but shoves his hands into the pockets of his jeans and walks forward anyway. 
The space is tiny, but enough for both of them. White walls match the toilet, the bathtub, the countertop with the sink, and the medicine cabinet. The only sources of color are the orange towel hanging on the wall next to the sink, the bottles of shampoo on a corner shelf, the yellow shower curtain crumpled on one side of the tub, and a bowl of Doritos on top of the closed toilet lid.
He quirks one corner of his mouth up, but also furrows his brows. What the hell is going on? How long has she been here? And why is she even hiding in the bathroom in the first place?
Gianna closes and locks the door, and Harry jolts. 
He turns on his feet, just in time to see her twirling around, too. 
She glares at him with a frown on her face and hands on her hips. Her chest moves up and down, quickly and heavily, and her nostrils flare every time she takes a deep breath in. It's easy to notice, because the green overall she's wearing does a great job at hiding everything from her belly to her midcalf, but it isn't covering that much of her cleavage. Nor the soft skin on her shoulders. Nor the smoothness of her arms. And her long necklace — the one she got for herself after her first paycheck — follows the movements of her lungs, and the big, golden pendant is this close to get lost between the swells of her breasts. 
Fuck. Heat rushes through his body, and his breath gets stuck in his throat. 
He can't make her uncomfortable, though. He can't let her know the thoughts that keep crossing his mind every time he looks at her body. He can't even let her know he (sometimes and unwillingly) glances at her body. Fuck no. He can't be inappropriate.
He can't, under any circumstance, cross that line with her. 
He just can't.
He clears his throat and forces himself to focus on her face, then. Taking in her infuriated expression first, and then her puffy cheeks, and then her smudged makeup… 
And then her red eyes… 
And then her washed-out stare… 
He drops his shoulders, then exhales through his nose. 
Here we go again… 
"What did he do now?"
She opens her mouth, then closes it. And Harry's seen that same reaction so many times before that he already knows she's changing her mind about the kind of answer she wants to give him. That she will somehow deflect the truth. And that she will once again try to protect that fucking son of a bitch. 
"I just…" Gianna says, and shrugs. "I just hate him." 
Harry stares at her for a moment, then tilts his chin down and looks at his feet. Ok. Maybe not what he expected her to say, but still… He shakes his head and laughs, and the sound comes out of him as humorless and exhausted as he feels. 
"Right," he offers, because it's the only thing he can come up with. 
Is it possible for him to feel concerned about her, but also extremely annoyed at her? Because he can swear he is. 
Gianna's big pleading eyes and cherry pouty mouth have always been some of his biggest weaknesses, but he promised himself he wouldn't do this again. He promised he wouldn't interfere anymore. He promised he would let her go. And he promised he would move on. 
"I do, Harry," she insists. "I truly do."
He nods, then takes one hand out of his pocket and rubs one finger under his nose. Whatever. He really isn't in the mood for this drama. Not again. Not tonight. Not when he has finally decided to move on and is supposed to be on a date instead.
"You texted," he says, dropping his arm and lifting his head to face her again. He hides his hand inside his pocket again, secretly wriggling his fingers and trying to get some of his tension off his body. "Thought something happened to you."
She looks away from him, then shrugs. Her hand falls from her hip to hang by the side of her body, and she tilts her chin down, staring at her fidgety fingers. 
Harry notices the moment she swallows hard, as if burying her emotions down her throat, and his entire body goes cold. 
Gianna isn't happy, and she hasn't been for such a long time. And at the end of the day, it kills him to see her like this. It kills him to see her so sad. It really does. He wants to take her pain away, he wants to hold her, and he wants to protect her. And yet he can't. Not how he would like to, at least. And he doesn't know how to help her anymore. He doesn't know what else he can do. Or what else he can say. He's already tried everything and, to be honest, he feels as if he has completely run out of options. As if he has failed her. 
He's powerless, and he's useless. 
And he's also really fucking lost. 
"I hate him," she finally says, glancing at him and repeating herself. Ignoring his attempt to change the subject. 
And for a moment, Harry can swear he sees a flicker of certainty inside her. He sees it, and he feels it.
Maybe… 
Yeah. Maybe she finally means it. Maybe this time is actually different. 
Maybe she finally realized that fucking son of a bitch isn't worth a second of her day and she's finally going to—
No.
Harry looks away.
He'll just never learn the lesson, will he?
"I mean it."
"Right. Ok, then."
"Ugh," Gianna grunts, then clenches her teeth. "Stop saying that!"
"Saying what?" he asks, walking to the bathtub. 
"Right," Gianna mimics. 
Her attempt to imitate his voice and accent is endearing, and as he sits on the edge of the bathtub, he also purses his lips to hold back a smile. 
"It's truly annoying," she adds. "Especially when you say it like that."
He places his elbows on his knees and tilts his chin up, looking at her. 
Her arms are crossed, and she is glaring at him again. 
Harry shrugs. "Like what?"
Gianna shakes her head and looks away—first at the floor, then at the sink. It takes her a moment to sigh and shrug, and when she finally speaks, her voice is only a weak whisper. "Like you don't believe in me anymore."
And just like that, Harry's entire body softens. 
He didn't mean to make her think that. He didn't mean to hurt her or to be mean to her. He didn't mean to make her sad. He just… He just can't understand the situation. He just doesn't know what to do about it, and he also doesn't know how to bring it up to her anymore.  
There is nothing in the world he wishes more than for those words to be true. For her to actually hate that fucking guy and leave him for good. So of course he wants to believe her, and he would if he hadn't heard the same story countless times before. But what good getting his hopes up for nothing, once again, would even do? 
"Gi…" Harry says, stretching one arm to poke her knee. She flinches away, and he sighs. "Gi, c'mon, look at me."
"No." 
He leans forward, stretching both of his arms now. When he still doesn't reach her, he lifts his bum a little and groans, then finally grabs her waist and pulls her closer. "Just come here."
Gianna doesn't fight him, letting him guide her until she is standing in front of him and in between his knees. Still, she doesn't look at him, keeping her arms crossed under her chest and focusing on the yellow curtain to his left, instead. 
Truthfully speaking, her stubbornness is usually one of the traits Harry enjoys the least, because it tends to make her act like a grumpy, annoying little girl. On the other hand, it is also one of the things he envies the most about her, because it drives her forward to achieve whatever she wants — like when she plays it in her favor to get interviews or exclusive content for the magazine she works at. 
Besides, Gianna isn't perfect, Harry knows that. And he doesn't expect her to be. So he humors her childish behavior sometimes. Like right now, when he's determined to bury himself inside her eyes. Tilting his chin up, dropping his head back and straightening his back just to look at her. Searching for her sight even if she won't give in and share it with him. 
"Gi," he calls, as careful, soft, and tender as he can be. "Hey… I'm sorry, ok?" 
She bites her lip, and shrugs. 
And because she's also old and mature enough to act like an adult, he doesn't hold himself back from trying to put some sense into her. 
"You gotta understand where I'm coming from, yeah? We've been here before, and—"
"I know, but—"
"No, you don't know, Gi. So let me say this." 
She sighs, but peeks at him through the corner of her eyes and nods.
It is more than enough for him, and he gives her a half-smile, placing the tip of his fingers on the side of her knees—just to hold her somehow, just to make sure she won't run away from him before he can explain himself. 
"We've been through this thousands of times, and I fucking hate when you still stay with him every single one of them. Because I hate the guy."
"I know sometimes you don't like him, but—"
"Gi, no. Listen to what I'm saying. I don't like that guy from work who chews too loudly and makes boring jokes. But Miles? I'm telling you I fucking hate him." 
Gianna drops her shoulders, and her arms fall to her sides. 
"Harry…" She dips her chin down and draws her eyebrows together, finally fully looking at him. "But that's… I mean… He's my boyfriend."
A new kind of heat flushes through his body, and Harry tenses. 
Is she being fucking serious right now? 
Is she actually going to defend him? 
Is she going to stand up for him or something?
He closes his eyes for a second and clenches his jaw, taking a deep breath and trying his best to keep himself together. 
He can't do this anymore. He can't keep running in circles. He can't keep dodging the truth just to protect their friendship. Mostly because, at this point, he isn't really protecting any of them anymore. 
"I know," he says, blinking his eyes open and meeting her gaze one more time. "I know he is. But you're my best friend and I love you, and I hate the way he treats you. I hate that we can't see each other without it turning into a fight between you two. I hate that he won't support the things you love. I hate that he's always tricking you into changing your mind about things. I hate that you're always sad because of him. I hate that he's always making you cry. So yeah, Gi… I know he's your boyfriend, but I hate him. And I'm not sorry for that."
For a long moment, there's nothing but silence between them. Music and people are completely muffled by the walls and the closed door, almost making it easy to forget there is even a party going on out there. 
Harry sits there patiently. Watching her. Waiting for her. 
And Gianna watches him back. Attentive. Curious. Puzzled. Thoughtful. Scanning him with those beautiful, big, meaningful eyes. Standing right in front of him, between his knees. So close that, if he faced forward, he would only need to lean a couple inches to kiss her body. And she smells heavenly, too, like she always does when she's wearing that same perfume — fresh, captivating, sexy. 
The woman of his dreams, embarrassingly as it may sound. And embarrassingly as it may be.
"Is that…" she murmurs, so quietly she really doesn't mean for anyone but him to hear. "I mean, is he the reason why you've been avoiding me these past few weeks?" 
He closes his eyes for half a moment, then looks back at her. "You noticed, huh?"
"You thought I wouldn't?" 
"I don't know." He shrugs. "Wasn't trying to make it obvious." 
"Well, it sucked, okay? One morning I even cried listening to you on the radio." 
Harry tilts his head, and pulls the corners of his mouth into a smile. "No you didn't."
She rolls her eyes, holding back a smile of her own. "Trust me, I wish it was a lie." 
"Ugh." He dips his head down for a moment, rolling his shoulders before looking up again. "'M sorry, Gi."
"Yeah…" She crosses her arms once again, pressing them against her stomach and clenching her hands into fists. "I'm sorry, too."
She looks away, and he taps the tip of his fingers on the back of her knees. Already missing her undivided attention. 
"What happened, Gi?" he carefully asks. "How long have you been hiding here?"
"I… I don't know. An hour? Maybe more…" 
Harry sighs. "Gi… C'mon."
"I know." 
"You see how insane it is, right?" he asks, staring directly at her just to observe her reaction. To make sure he isn't pushing too much. To make sure he's actually helping her, and not making it worse. "Hiding in someone's bathroom for over an hour while he's out there throwing a party for people half his age?"
She closes her eyes, then bites her bottom lip and nods. 
She knows. 
She actually knows.
Whatever happened this time, it finally woke her up. It finally made her see it. 
He drops his shoulders, scanning her face. 
Then why is she still here? Why does she keep waiting around for him? Why does she keep putting herself in this position? Over and over again? What is so special about this fucking guy that is worth all the pain he constantly puts her through? 
And most importantly, what is it going to take for her to finally realize that she deserves so much better than to be treated like… This?
What can he do to help her? What's left for him to try? If he's run out of ideas, if he's said everything he could say to her, what difference can he still make? 
Maybe… 
No. 
A thought creeps in, but he doesn't want to acknowledge it. He doesn't want to engage with it. 
Although he should, because it is a new idea, and it is something he hasn't tried yet. It includes being honest, not filtering his thoughts just to make sure she won't end up hating him, and stop playing safe. It also forces him to finally take a chance, and to finally stop holding himself back. 
It's too risky, though. Especially right now, when she's so vulnerable and still dating the guy. 
Ok… So maybe not the entire truth, then? Maybe just the facts she needs to hear to break away from whatever curse that asshole spread on her. 
And he can try that. He did it just minutes ago, when he told her how much he hates the guy — and that seemed to work more than fine so far, right? 
Yes. 
Ok, then. 
He slides his tongue between his lips, and rolls his shoulders. And then, keeping his eyes on her, he finally says, "Gi, you deserve a lot better than this." 
Gianna doesn't seem to react, although the way her breasts suddenly pop up into his eye-line suggests she's holding all the breath in her chest. 
He insists, then — mostly because he knows she's actively listening to him, but also because he can't allow his fucking hormones distract him from what's really important right now. 
"You deserve to be treated so much better than the way he treats you."
She stays still, frozen in front of him. 
So he places his hands on the back of her knees and gently squeezes her. Briefly, though. Just one time. Just to make sure he gets her attention when he asks, "You know that, right?"
Gianna shrugs, then. And Harry catches the moment her bottom lip trembles. And how her breath quivers when she exhales. 
"Hey," he says, squeezing her again. "Sorry, love. Don't wanna make you cry."
He's crossing the line. 
He shouldn't touch her like this. 
He knows that. 
Even if it's an innocent hold on top of her clothes. Even if she barely notices it. Even if it means nothing to her. 
Because he notices. He feels her body under his palm, and he feels the way her flesh sinks when he digs each one of his fingertips to get her attention.
And he notices how she fits perfectly into his grip. And now he can't stop thinking how there isn't even an inch of her body he doesn't want to squeeze and feel just like this, but also way, way more.
"I'm not—It's not…" Gianna says (or tries to say). 
Harry blinks, and loosens up his craving fingers. 
Gianna shakes her head and opens her eyes, looking at him again. "He didn't look for me, y'know? I've been here all this time and he didn't… Not even a text." 
Harry doesn't know what to say to that, so he brushes his thumb up and down once. Trying to comfort her. Trying to sooth her. Trying to remind her he is there, and he is listening to her. He is taking care of her.
"Something could've happened to me and he just… He just doesn't care at all."
He repeats the movement of his fingers one more time, and when she still doesn't seem to mind or be bothered by it, he repeats it again. Over and over. Drawing small, tiny circles on the back of her knees. 
"'M sorry, love." 
"I hate him."
And this time, Harry genuinely believes her.
"Me too," he says, keeping the steady stroke of his thumbs.
"He's just so fucking stupid." 
"He is. Most fucking stupid guy I've—" 
"And he broke up with me!" 
Harry shuts his mouth. 
What?
He did what?!
"It was so… Humiliating…" Gianna laughs, painfully, shortly and bitterly. And then the first tear rolls down her cheek, and although she quickly wipes it off, it's like she can't stop the next ones from following the exact same path. 
Holy shit.
"Gi," Harry whispers.
She shakes her head and looks down to his chest, or maybe to his thighs, or just to anywhere in between them that doesn't include his eyes. She sniffs once, and, amidst new tears, she finally shares with him the one thing she's been avoiding to face the entire night. 
"I don't… I don't even know what I did this time. Honestly… He came early to set everything up, so Crystal gave me a ride and… And then when we arrived he just… I just went to say hello to him… I didn't… He just broke up with me, H… Out of nowhere, and in front of everyone." 
Jesus Christ. 
There are suddenly a lot of things to unpack. 
Too many things to point out. Too many things to ask. 
Questions. 
Yes. 
So many questions. 
Hundreds of them.
But the first one he blurts out is, "Crystal is here?"
Gianna sniffs, rubbing both hands on her cheeks, and nods.
"Angela too?"
"Yes." 
Harry frowns. "Well, and where are they right now?" 
"I don't know."
He can feel his muscles twitching. The urge to crack his knuckles and run after those two little b—
"Were they there when it happened?"
Gianna nods.
"And do they know you're here? Did they at least try to reach out to you?" 
"I don't—I don't know, H…" she murmurs, dropping her arms to her sides and fidgeting with her fingers. "And to be honest I don't care… I don't want to see them… They'll tell me it was nothing… That he didn't mean it… And then they'll say I should forgive him and I just… I don't… I can't…" 
Harry shuffles on the bathtub, and suddenly he's awfully aware of how much he'll, sooner or later, regret sitting there for so long. Still, right now, as he leans just a little bit closer to her, that's definitely the least of his worries.
"You can't forgive him, Gi," he pleads. "Not this time. Not after all this."
"I know… I know I can't… I just…"
She shakes her head, and Harry twitches his fingers around her knees. Digging them slightly, begging her not to stop. Not now. Not after all the progress they've made. 
"What? Tell me… I'm here, yeah? I'm listening." 
She takes one hand to her forehead and rubs the tips of her fingers from one side to the other. As if trying to slide the words out of her brain. 
"I'm just… Scared."
"Ok…" Harry tilts his head, searching for her eyes. "Scared of what, love? Of him? Because you know I'll never let—"
"No." She shakes her head. "I'm not scared of him… It's not—Ugh… Look, I don't want to keep doing this anymore, okay? I really don't. But I'm… I'm scared I'll end up calling him anyway… And I know I shouldn't, I know that, but I… I mean, I don't know… I just… I don't know…"
"Ok, just breathe, yeah?" He moves his thumbs up and down again, foolishly hoping his touch will be enough to soothe her. 
"I don't want to be that girl," she says, then takes a deep breath in, and lets the air out through her mouth. "I swear I don't." 
"Ok… That's—"
"I'm scared I'll be, tho. And I don't want to. I don't—" 
"Gi, hey… Listen to me."
She stops talking, and she also glances back at him. The look on her face is so scared, though, that it makes Harry's chest hurt. 
He sighs, and asks. "Why would you call him, tho, hm?" 
Gianna shrugs. 
"If you don't want to… And if you're saying you know you shouldn't… Why are you so scared you'll call him anyway?"
"I don't know…" 
She looks away again, and Harry notices that, unlike him, the only way she can get the words out of her mind is if she isn't staring at him. 
"It's just what I did every other time before… He'll break up with me, then I'll get lonely at home and call him. And then he'll—" 
"Wait." Harry frowns. "Just... Hold on a minute. This isn't the first time?"
She looks down to the floor, and shakes her head.
"How many times did he break up with you?"  
Gianna laughs — humorlessly, tirelessly, unwillingly. 
"Please don't make me answer that."  
Harry freezes for a moment, and cautiously watches her. He examines her. Studies her. Trying to find any of the sparks she's usually radiating off her. Or any traces of joy. Or at least some peace in between everything that's happening. But she's just so sad. And she also looks so ashamed, and so scared, that he just… He can't do it anymore. 
Honestly. 
It's beyond whatever he can handle right now.
So he squeezes the back of her knees and pushes her closer, then leans in and places his head against her belly. 
He closes his eyes, and sighs. 
Holly shit.
Harry doesn't want to be dramatic, ok? So he'll never admit this out loud, but this shit physically pains him. It just does. He can't grasp his mind around the fact that getting into fights with her, making her cry, and diminishing her ideas wasn't enough for that fucking asshole. That he still needed to mess around with her feelings, and that he got away with it for so long that she now believes she'll end up crawling back to him no matter what. 
He also hates the fact that he never knew "breaking up" was a common thing between them. That Gianna wasn't just forgiving all the childish and fucked up things Miles did, but that she was actively calling him up and asking to go back to him. And he doesn't blame her for that, ok? He doesn't. He loves her. So he just… Y'know… 
He just… 
"Fuck," he murmurs, clenching his teeth. "That fucking son of a bitch."
Gianna breathes in, and Harry feels the way her stomach slowly fills up with air, moving his head along with it. And then she exhales out, heavily and through her nose, and her stomach empties again, and Harry's head follows the movement again. 
"I'm sorry, H," she murmurs, too. "I didn't—"
He shakes his head, burying his forehead on the fabric of her overall, and lifts his hands slightly, just an inch above the back of her knees. Being mindful to not overstep, but also deeply struggling to contain himself.
"Please don't apologize," he says, intentionally keeping his voice down. "You didn't do anything wrong." 
She places her hands on the back of his head. Softly and gently. Almost like she's unsure of what she's doing. 
"It feels like I did, tho."
"You didn't. I promise you didn't."
Gianna doesn't seem to have an answer for that, and she also doesn't seem to know what to do with her hands. Tapping his hair as if she's trying to figure out where to put them. 
Harry brushes his thumbs up and down, just like before — although he's now hesitantly venturing himself on the back of her thighs, and that embarrassingly feels way more dangerous and thrilling than whatever he did with (or to) any other person up until then. 
And it seems to have some sort of effect on her, too, because she relaxes underneath him. Her muscles seem to loosen up, and she finally drops the weight of her palms on the back of his head. 
Next thing he knows, Gianna's already threading her fingers through his hair. Running her nails over his scalp, and entertaining herself while fiddling with his curls. 
Harry smiles, and slows down under her touch. His breathing follows the rhythm of her hands, and his heart is loud and heavy, but it doesn't seem to squash his chest anymore. It's not painful anymore. 
Time goes by unnoticed. And it's like the world around them doesn't even exist anymore. 
It's good. 
And it's new. 
And it's peaceful. 
And it's refreshing. 
So much so that, when Gianna speaks again, even the pain and the sadness in her voice sound lighter. 
"I hate myself for calling him," she says, keeping up with the strokes on his head, "and I really don't want to do it again." 
Harry nods. 
"I'm scared I will anyway, H…"
He squeezes her once, just to let her know he's listening, and then he rummages through his brain, trying to find something useful to say. 
He can't say he understands her fear, because he isn't sure he does. What he knows is that he always struggled to say no to Gianna, and that no matter how hard he tried he was never able to let her go. But he can't compare both situations, can he? After all, she never played with his feelings, because she doesn't know about them. Miles, on the other hand, was pretty much aware of the relationship they were in. Miles knew what he was doing, and Miles actively chose to string her along. 
So, no, it is not the same thing. 
On top of that… Harry can't imagine her calling him out of nowhere. Not when she's so sure she doesn't want him anymore. Not when she's so sure she hates him.
Unless… Well, is she still in love with him? Is that why she thinks she'll go back to him? Because she loves him so much that she'll miss him? 
No… C'mon… She doesn't. 
Does she? 
Shit.
Certainly, it's not his place to answer that, but it doesn't feel like she's in love with the guy. It feels like she's used to being with him, but because she doesn't know anything better. 
Besides, he's never seen her so determined to put an end to the relationship. This is the first time he's seen it written all over her face. It's also the first time she's called him because Miles broke up with her, and the first time she even told him it happened. So how… How can she still be so unsure of herself?
Harry pulls away and blinks his eyes open. Adjusting to the bright cool light, and also searching for her eyes. 
Gianna slides her hands off his hair and rests them on his shoulders. Holding herself onto him while she tilts her chin down and meets his stare. 
"I know you said you called him every other time before, but… Did you also feel like this the other times?" 
She frowns, and it's enough for him to already know the answer. Still, he waits for her, and lets her come to a conclusion on her own.
"I don't… Think so? I mean, no. It feels… Different this time."
Fuck yeah it does.
Just look at them!
Harry wants to chuckle, but he knows he can't, and he knows he shouldn't, so he breathes in deeply and shrugs. 
"So maybe this time it will be different, yeah?" he asks, then takes a chance and drags his palms another inch further up on the back of her thighs. 
Gianna takes a tiny step closer to him, and he's more than happy to take that as a little victory. 
"Maybe… But I don't know if I have so much faith in myself." 
"Why not, Gi? If you know he's such an idiot, and you know you don't wanna go back to him, why do you still think you will?" 
"Because I'm that stupid, H. Because apparently I can't—"
"Stop," he says, and squeezes the back of her thighs
Gianna gasps softly, and widens her eyes. 
Shit.
Although Harry always tries to be gentle, he knows his grip ended up being tighter than he originally meant to. He can feel it on the way his nails are digging into her flesh, and on the way he's also flexing his arms. 
Part of him wants to apologize and put some distance between them before she can do it herself. Before she realizes what's happening and tell him to fuck off. 
The other part, though, knows it's too late to go back from whatever he already did tonight, and that so far the truth is the only road that seems to be actually taking him somewhere. 
So Harry straightens up his back and keeps his hands in the exact same place, firm and steady. 
He doesn't take anything back, nor pretends it isn't actually happening. 
"I can't let you do this to yourself, ok?" he says. "Because you're not stupid." 
Gianna blinks. 
"You're the most fascinating woman I've ever met," he adds, because now that he's started he doesn't think he'll be able to stop himself anymore. "You're kind, and smart, and creative, and funny." 
He loosens up one hand and pulls it away, but only to take it up to her face and brush his thumb under her eyes. 
"You're so beautiful, Gi," he says, cleaning some of her smudged makeup. 
"So, so beautiful…" He strokes her cheek, and then under her other eye. "That you're just… You're breathtaking."
She blinks again, and again, and again. As if trying to absorb the information not only through her ears, but also through her eyes.
And Harry likes the way she's listening to him, the way she's leaning closer. The way she's softening in front of him. He doesn't know what it means, but he knows he likes it. So he keeps going, choosing to only stop if she asks him to.
"And you're constantly blowing my mind, for whatever reason." He drops his hand again, placing it on the back of her thigh, where it feels they belong now. "Your ideas, your point of views, your actions… Everything, Gi. Everything you do is just… Amazing. You are amazing."
She flickers her eyes around his face, and Harry gives her time to do so. He waits for her. Brushing his thumbs up and down. Subtly caressing the back of her thighs.
"I don't… I don't know what to say." 
"It's ok…" He smiles. Softly. Fondly. "You don't have to say anything." 
Gianna shrugs. She picks his t-shirt between her fingers, fidgeting with it while still watching him. 
"Kinda feels like I have to. I mean, those are… Y'know… Really nice things to say about someone."
"I know. Yes." He smiles bigger, and nods. "Want me to say them again?" 
She rolls her eyes, but it's easy to catch the way her mouth tries to curl into a smile as well. Or the way some cheerfulness brightens up her face. 
And there she is again… 
Harry tilts his head, hooked and charmed by the way she looks. By the woman she is. 
Chest warm and fuzzy. 
Head over the moon. 
Pathetically in love. 
"I think very highly of you, Gi." 
"You do?"
"Mhmm… You should know that by now." 
She drums her fingers on his shoulders, and he brushes his thumbs on the back of her thighs. 
"This is… I mean…"
"What?"
"Ugh." She groans, throwing her head back and glancing at the ceiling. "I don't know. I'm just really confused right now." 
"Oh. It's... It's ok," he says, eyes suddenly too focused and mind too distracted. 
Her neck is pretty, isn't it? And her skin looks the sweetest, softest place he could lay his lips on. 
Harry swallows. 
He looks down, and meets her chest — which only makes it worse. 
Fuck. 
He closes his eyes, and shakes his head. 
When he looks at her again, she's thankfully already facing down and staring back at him. Making it easier for him to talk again. 
"Don't wanna confuse you right now," he says, then clears his throat. "It's not the right time to reveal all of my thoughts about you,  anyway." 
"All of your thoughts about me? What—How many do you have?"
Harry chuckles. She's so fucking cute.
"Not today, yeah?" 
She narrows her eyes. "Harry…"
He shrugs. "Look, all you need to know right now is that you're not stupid. And I know you're scared, but this time you have me by your side, yeah? And I won't let that son of a bitch hurt you again. Ok?" 
"I appreciate that, but you don't have to—" 
"Gi. Ok?" 
She sighs.
"Okay."
"Good."
A beat of silence echoes between them. 
Gianna and Harry fill it by staring at each other. Consciously ignoring the fact that time is ticking by. And also ignoring the fact that, although they probably should feel awkward by whatever is going on right now, they actually don't feel awkward at all. 
And then clattering and shattering thunder from downstairs, and Gianna and Harry jolt. They both turn their heads to face the door, waiting for something to happen. And when people seem to erupt into desperate cheering and yelling, they both turn again, and look at each other. Again.
"Do you think it'll be okay if I spend the night at yours?" she asks. "Most of my things are at Miles' and I… I don't know. To be honest I don't want to spend the night at my place." 
Harry nods. "Yeah, of course. You can sleep back at mine."
He rolls his shoulders, then tilts his head to one side, and to the other.
"Do you think it'll be ok if we leave this place right now, tho?" he asks, brushing his palms up and down the back of her thighs, then sliding them to gently tap the sides of her legs. "Can't stand this place anymore."
"Yeah." Gianna smiles, and squeezes his shoulders. "We should go."
"Great." He squeezes her legs, and brushes his thumbs in wide, slow circles. "Good."
She nods and slides her hands down his shoulders, letting her fingers brush down his chest. "Mhmm…"
"We'll go, then." He spreads his legs even wider and nudges her forward, holding her legs tightly while forcing her to take a step closer. 
"We will." She draws her hands back to his shoulders, fully holding onto him. "Whenever you want to."
Harry closes his eyes and leans forward, pressing his face to her stomach, and then a kiss on top of her clothes. Without pulling away, he groans against the green fabric, then murmurs, "You're not making this any easier for me, y'know?"
Gianna chuckles, allowing her hands to timidly explore his back. "I swear to God I have no idea what's going on right now."
He pulls away, tilting his chin up and looking at her. "We'll have plenty of time to figure it out. But right now, let's just get the fuck out of here. Please."
"Okay," she says, and smiles, but doesn't make any attempt to actually move.
"Ugh." He grabs her waist and pushes her off, standing up and stumbling along with her feet as they both step away from the bathtub.
She bites her lip and giggles, and it honestly takes absolutely everything inside him to not kiss her right then and there.
"C'mon," he says, finding her hand and holding it tightly. "Let's take this back to mine." 
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Hiii :)
Someone sent me a request back in 2022 and I came up with 85% of this. Then last week I decided to finish it and finally post it (always better late than never, huh? hehe).
There are soooo many things I have in mind for this one, so many things I haven't explored yet, and so many things that I intentionally left unanswered... But for now, this right here, is all I have, and I wanted to share it anyway :) I'm basically just challenging myself and my overthinking, so let's hope I don't regret it lol.
ANYWAY, thanks for reading.
Dani.
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kingconia · 1 year ago
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Hello I js read ur MC who takes inspriration from the protag of their stories and if you're still taking requests, is it possible to do a part 2 for it?
A/N: You are welcome. I pondered a little about the continuation of this concept, and figured out that Leona & Vil had the most potential for the second part, since I left a cliffhanger in their stories. Others seemed quite cliche or obvious—Riddle has a crush, he can easily deal with, and same goes for Malleus, Azul & Idia. I hope, you don't mind.
The first part can be found here. Obviously, read it first for the context.
LEONA KINGSCHOLAR & VIL SCHOENHEIT WITH THE READER, WHO IS INSPIRED BY THE PROTAGONIST OF THEIR STORIES.
Leona Kingscholar. 💛
— Leona is bad at admitting aloud that he made a mistake, but it doesn't necessarily mean he has no realisation of it. He knows, he hurt you. That is obvious;
— He starts paying more attention to you in the school, since he hasn't figured out how to fix your relationship yet. And that is when he notices that... You are actually not as cheerful as he remembered you to be? Most of the time, you sit away from other students of Savanaclaw?
— When he asks Ruggie about that, he shrugs. He tells Leona that you were always like this, and they even call you ”the sombre heir” among themselves, since you are not quite fun to have around. Leona is surprised. You were so different with him...
— In the end, Leona simply decides to speak with you honestly. He has this feeling that you will accept him either way. You always did before. But, oh, seems like he is not on your good side anymore, isn't he?
”Oi, kittie, watcha doin'?” Leona plops in front of you, putting his elbows on the table.
He is nervous, he will not lie about. It is the first time he feels such an overcoming anxiety before someone alive, and that is strange. It is just you, after all. Right?
”Dunno,” you answer slowly, putting a slice of meat in your mouth. ”Thinking about my family, who died so yours could take our throne away. You, Leona?”
Well, you definitely are not planning to forgive him so easily.
Leona shifts uncomfortably as he tries to catch your gaze. Without a luck.
”I accept my fault,” he murmurs quietly, hardly audible. ”And if anything, I understand your pain. I, too—”
A sudden laugh from your lips makes him stop in the tracks. As you wipe your mouth with the napkin, you smile suddenly. And when you raise your eyes on him, Leona almost flinches. Because there is nothing kind or gentle in these orbs now. Instead, they are cold. They are cold, and at the same time, they are awfully mad.
”What would you know about it, golden boy?” Your voice shift in a condescending tone as you shake your head slightly. ”Kings like your brother, Leona, they have honour. And princes like you or your little nephew have a bravery and heart. But people like me, Leona, the fallen ones, we only have rage. So, excuse me, but I don't think we are at the same page, kittie.”
You are hissing your last words, hand coming to grab Leona by his chin, tip of claws scratching his skin. He wants to back away, he intends too, but he is suddenly strangely fascinated by you. Intimidated, even.
”If you want to apologise, Leona, then do it properly. With falling on your knees, at least,” your fangs flash in a carnivorous smirk. ”And until then, have your dreams. Sweet or not—we will see in which mood I am going to be today.”
Leona gulps as he watches you leaving, eyes fixated on your back.
Perhaps you ignored his existence until now, willing to forget his rudeness. But now, it seemed, he lost the last pieces of your mercy.
...And he needs to figure out how to have your forgiveness really quick.
Vil Schoenheit. 💜
— Vil is not surprised when headmaster warns him, that someone from his dorm attempts to take away his housewarden title. He already knows who it is, and he is not surprised to see your face, when he enters the main hall;
— He had a bad week already: his hair products worked awfully, your number of followers outnumbered his own, and Neige practically took the role that was his in the very last moment. It is only logical that in the same week you attempt to take his title;
— And, of course, you succeed. The poison you created can be only worth of the Pomefiore housewarden, and no one can deny that. Even Vil. In fact, he always acknowledged your brains and wilt, so of anything, he feels it is fair win;
— What makes him stop frozen, though, is the person you want to see as your vice. Originally, Vil thought that you will take Rook—he is quite aware of his attraction towards you—but then... You chose him? Why? Why would you do that?
”Well,” Vil says, when the two of your are left in the room alone, and there is no need to act as you were friends anymore. ”What else are you planning to do with me? You are the housewarden—you won. Why making me your vice?”
You turn on your heels to face him, a big and shiny smile plastered on your face as you step closer to him.
”Don't be so mean, Vil-sama. Why do you act as if I hate you? I don't,” you put yours hands on chair handles he is sitting at, invading his personal space gracefully. ”I cannot hate a person, who helped me to understand what my signature spell is.”
Vil furrows, pressing his back to the chair more firmly, not trusting you coming close to him. Yet, it hardly changes anything—the tips of your noses are practically touching.
”I apologise, but I cannot recall such a thing.”
He had never helped you with anything in your life. Now, Vil is ashamed that he didn't.
He remembers your first day in the dorm. How you clinged to his side, with stars shining in your eyes, asking him about this and that. How you attempted to befriend him. How you only originally started to speak with Rook to understand him better.
Vil failed the little student of his.
And the person in front of him didn't want his acceptance now.
”How come?” Your hands are suddenly on his head, fingers wrapped around his favourite diadem, taking it off slowly. ”After all, you were the first beast I spoke with.”
He flinches, and you carefully kiss him on the cheek before putting the diadem on your own hair. It looks nice.
Vil hates that.
”I miss the kid you were,” he murmurs against his best judgement.
You hum.
”Bear the monster you created, instead.”
You left him on the vice position so it could be a remind for his mistake. For his cruelty. For his arrogance. He realises it now. You don't need to do anything special to hurt him, if he does it to himself, working under your command on the daily basis, seeing you shine, when he burns out.
You are beautiful, Vil accepts that. Your revenge is a charming one, too.
”I heard Neige got that role?” You ask suddenly, when he reaches doors, unwilling to turn back. ”Such a shame. Something must happened.”
He grits his teeth.
Vil hates himself for making you like this. Yet, he can't help but feel proud. Whatever he created you as—you would take what is yours, with blood and sweat. He can admire that about you. And deep inside, Vil thinks you do that, too. Deep inside you enjoy it as much as you hate it.
”Yes. Something.”
After all, there is truly nothing Vil can do, but accept his defeat.
The king is dead. Long life to you.
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A/N: Based on protagonists or not—they had some darkness in theirselves as well; just as Simba was quite ruthless, when the situation required of it, in many interpretations of the tale, Snow-white learned how to be cruel, too. I think it is enamoring how these said protagonists can be just as their villains, especially if they were growing up around them in one way or another.
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