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#and the windows open and him smiling at me and singing along and laughing
curledupinmyarmchair · 8 months
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Johnny Cashmaxxing
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neopuppy · 2 months
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Boys Like U (M)
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pairing. jeno x female reader
genre. summer vacation AU, friends enemies who fuck, , love triangleish, M/F, smut, pwp, angst, fluff, one shot
warnings. profanity, alcohol mentioned, mean Jeno, explicit smut, mild slut-shaming, jealousy, possessive behavior, y/n is Mark’s cousin, side characters. smut warnings under cut. minors DNI.
wc. 19k
now playing. Boys Like You//Tanerélle
a/n. before you assume anything has been stolen and plagiarized please remember that I *am* @drunkhazed😑💚
smut warnings. dry humping/with an audience(a bit dubcon), rough and unprotected sex, dom/sub dynamics, under negotiated kinks, improper aftercare, choking, slapping, multiple orgasms, over-stimulation, manhandling(y/n can be lifted and thrown around), degradation, humiliation, etc
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Summertime and the livin’s easy
The same lyrics repeat over and over again. Jaemin’s been looping this same god damn song for the last hour, wailing along with the lyrics like a banshee.
“I love her so bad, but she treats me like shit!” He’s been singing along the entire time too. Sniffling tears away from his eyes, earning another round of groans from everyone trapped inside of the car with him.
“Enough dude!” Haechan shouts, reaching to switch the song. “I can’t fucking take it anymore. It’s summertime and the livin’s easy! Not fucking summertime and torture my fucking friends.”
“Jaemin- listen man, I know this break up has been hard on you, but you don’t have to make all of us suffer with you!” Renjun adds, reaching around the driver’s seat to massage his shoulders.
“Definitely not the best way to go about that..” Jisung mumbles, pinching the skin between his eyebrows.
“Screw her dude, we’re gonna find you so much pussy to lose yourself in the next couple of weeks.” Haechan cheers, reaching over to pat Jaemin’s stomach right as the tears he’s been trying to hold in burst free. “Aw man, gross. Don’t do that!”
Evil, I’ve come to tell you that she’s evil, most definitely
Falling in love must be horrible. 
Jeno should probably say something, Jaemin’s his best friend after all.. but they’ve been talking about Jini nonstop for the past 30 days now! And they break up every other month! She said it was for good this time.. but he can’t help to think that’s a lie. Renjun’s not exactly wrong, they’ve been excited about this trip for days now. He’s half-way to throwing out a ‘suck it up!’ right before they exit the Pacific coast highway and he lets out a huge sigh. 
“You know I’m right man, enough is enough.” Renjun leans in closer to his ear, whispering low enough for only Jisung and Jeno to catch.
“He’s still our friend..” Jisung mutters, pursing his lips into a thin line. 
“I can already smell the coconut tanning lotion melting on fat juicy titties.” Haechan shoves his head out of the passenger seat window. Eyes shut, sucking down a long-winded inhale of the ocean breeze infiltrating the car. “Fuck, I love summer!!!” He shouts out happily, smacking the side of the jeep.
Jaemin breaks into a smile, shaking off the tears that managed to escape. “You guys are right, next time I bring her up—hit me upside my head or something. It’s one our our last summer’s out here, we need to have the best time.”
“That’s my boy!” Renjun yells, wrapping a playful chokehold around his throat. “We’re gonna have the best time!”
“We’re here!” Jaemin shouts out between laughs, slapping at Renjun’s arms still firmly wrapped around his neck. 
“Fucking finally.”
Jeno stretches his limbs out, back cracking as he arches back and lets out the deepest and loudest yawn after sitting cramped up in the backseat of Jaemin’s jeep for the last five hours. A ride that could have been less cramped if everyone had stuck to only packing one bag for the next two weeks and Renjun hadn’t changed his plans last minute to tag along.
“You made it!” Mark’s cheerful boisterous giggle sounds out from the front door, throwing it open to run down the driveway in his flip flops that clap loudly against the pavement. Immediately breaking into a round of high-fives and hugs to greet all of them.
“Course we did Markie! Even though Jaemin made us stop five damn times to piss.” Haechan snickers, glaring toward the backseat of his car.
“I drank an entire large cold brew!” Jaemin says to defend himself, waving around the now empty large plastic cup. “Forgot how long this drive is.”
“See, this is what Hannah Montana meant when she said nodding my head like yeah! Moving my hips like yeah! You know I’m gonna be okay!” Haechan sings out terribly, adding a sway of his hips with his arms held up toward the sky. “It’s a party in the USA!”
“Ugh.” Jisung grimaces, dragging his bag past Renjun who joins him, bumping their hips into each other.
Jeno can’t stop the smile from forming on his face, rolling his eyes as he takes in the street. Not much has changed, palm trees full as ever, bright sunlight burning down on the concrete. Santa Barbara really has a charm that Santa Monica can’t compare to.
It is a long drive, especially to be stuck together with his friends all maintaining different levels of energy and patience, but it’s worth it every single time. Because for some reason Mark’s parents agreed to loaning out their beach house a couple of weeks out of the year during summer for their son and his friends to fuck around. The reason really being that he’s spoiled rotten and they cut a deal that as long as a few of his family members can tag along, the summer house is all his.
That’s where you enter.
The first summer Jeno was allowed to venture out to Santa Barbara with his friends was also the first summer he met you. It’s not his favorite memory, in fact, he fucking hates how clearly he remembers every detail from that day.
‘This is my cousin.’ Mark had introduced you with his usual cheerful smile, motioning to his friends that responded with their names one by one.
‘A girl.’ Jaemin mumbled, nudging Jeno’s side. 
‘I didn’t think she’d actually want to come after I told her that all of you guys were joining me, but we always hang out during summer since she lives kind of far. You guys don’t mind right?’ 
‘As long as she doesn’t care, I don’t see anything wrong with having her around.’ Jisung said with his thumbs held up, nodding hard enough for his hair to bounce around.
Yeah. What’s the big deal? Sure, you’re pretty, maybe even one of the prettiest girls Jeno’s ever seen before. And yeah, you smell great, wafting your scent around each time you flip your hair away from your shoulders. Not to add on that he also noticed how you only seem to look away when you find him staring at you. 
Jaemin easily started joking around with you, even including you in on some of their legendary inside jokes right away. Haechan, he’s always helpful and cool, cutting up fruit for you and checking to see if you need more snacks or something to drink. Even Renjun, who’s usually awkward around girls, got close to you after a night of a heated Monopoly game while the power went out. 
Jeno should have asked if he could join too, desperately racking his brain for how he could break the ice and get to know you better. It shouldn’t be this hard, right? Except it is, because his mouth gets more dry when you’re around. His bottom lip grows raw from biting down on it, his nails get bitten down to nothing but skin, even bleeding at times. He’s a mess in your presence and can’t even figure out why. Surely it has nothing to do with how his chest pinches and pounds faster the second you enter his proximity.
The last time he felt this way was probably junior high when he had a crush— wait no, that wouldn’t make sense. He doesn’t have a crush or anything like that, no way.
Not that his dickhead friends would agree as they laughed and wiggled their eyebrows at him insisting they play spin the bottle.
‘Come on, we’ll make it interesting, the bottle lands on you and you have to choose truth or dare. We’re kind of an uneven number to be playing tonsil hockey right now anyways.’ 
Haechan smirked, dragging his tongue across his lips. ‘You got nothing to hide anyway, Jeno.’
Great. Fucking pricks. They wouldn’t ask him something about you if he chooses dare. That would be so fucked up, but also- that does not explain why Jaemin winked at him, and why Renjun kept nudging into his side. How the hell can they tell? Has he been too obvious?
‘Oh Jeno! It’s your lucky day!’
The tip of the emptied glass bottle unceremoniously comes to a halt directly pointed at his figure. He sighs, head dropping back as he shakes it back and forth to avoid your curious gaze from across the circle you’ve all ended up in.
It’s still as clear as if it happened just yesterday, and he fucking hates it. Hates that he can still remember the look of disgust forever ruining your pretty face. The loud obnoxious ‘eww!’ You shrieked as his friends bursted out laughing around him after he admitted to finding you cute.
It should have been harmless. He should have fucking gone for a dare, anything better than the rush of embarrassment that sped up to his cheeks and rapidly lit them up to a mortifying shade of red.
God, what was he thinking? Why the hell did he even answer Jaemin’s stupid question honestly!
‘No bullshit alright dude, you into her?’ He smirked, nodding your direction. A look of fear and worry scattered all over your face as he peered back and forth between the two of you.
‘I mean, yeah sure. She’s pretty cute.’
It was innocent, and maybe he had expected—hoped for a better reaction. What would it hurt to imagine you’d reciprocate his feelings? God, it was so dumb, his biggest regret for the last 7 years; even worse than the first time he got high and ran around in his boxers with his ass crack fully out. Albeit, the photos to remind him of his actions the next day didn’t help, he’s never been able to forget that look on your face. Your disgusted repulsed face that he’s only ever seen once, when he fucking called you cute.
Not to mention the way you avoided him after as if he had leprosy, too grossed out to even accept the dishes he set down in front of you for lunch the next day.
Flat out cruel and mean for no reason, making it very clear to him that you wanted nothing to do with him.
Fine. 
If that’s the way you want to spend your summer vacation together, then he’d make sure to give you a real reason to hate him.
It started with smearing nutella on your swimsuits that were hanging out to dry. Then purposely aiming the ball at your head during the pool game of volleyball you had the next day, not even apologizing as he smiled and shrugged. 
‘Not my fault this airhead can’t see for shit.’
That must have really hit a nerve, sporting a frown throughout the rest of the game until you gave up and refused to continue playing after he accidentally punted the ball right at your face. 
Any time he had the chance to grill or cook, he always made sure to make your plate of food extra crispy, real charred. 
‘I thought that’s how you liked it, burnt to a crisp.’ He’d smile proudly, scraping a knife down the blackened hotdog he set down for you.
Of course it was childish, he was fucking fifteen years old and you bruised his ego to hell and back as far as he was concerned. Had him pulling at his face in the mirror before bed, tussling his hair, double checking the scent of his body after showering, analyzing his clothes and lack of developed muscle. 
You didn’t have to act like he was the most repulsive boy to ever walk the earth! And the reality is, it hurt.
It hurt so bad, he had to shake off the moisture forming behind his eyes after heading to his bedroom, unable to turn off the repeated cry of disgust you let out after all he said is that you’re cute. A harmless fucking compliment.
Really, as much as he hates to say it- you’re a real bitch.
Jeno’s mother would be appalled if she could hear his thoughts when it comes to you. He was raised to be polite, only to respect women. But you, something about you seriously pisses him the fuck off.
It’s not because he likes you. Even his friends were convinced after those first two weeks that you two hated each other, because of course you decided to retaliate. Cutting holes into his swim trunks, pouring itching powder all over his bed, filling his sunscreen bottle up with hair removal cream that left painful welts on his skin after rubbing it in like lotion and laying in the sun. 
You. You’re seriously such a bitch, he can’t stand it. Can’t control how his rage rises to a boiling point the second he even catches a glimpse of you. You’re quite possibly the most fucking annoying girl he’s ever met, maybe the only girl that has ever annoyed him this much.
And yet his eyes still scan the room for your presence as he steps inside of the house he’s spent the last 7 summers at. The same room he gave you a kiss in against your will. Right in front of everyone, your cousin, his friends. The night he revisits in his memories time and time again that he can’t move on from. 
It was all Jisung’s fault.
‘Fine.’ Jisung smirks mischievously, rubbing his hands together. ‘We’re too old for childish games.’
‘Finally, someone with sense.’ Jeno adds, still pouring salt on his wounds from the time he got stuck inside of a closet with you for seven minutes.
‘Not so fast Jeno. I said childish games, not games in general, and there is one we’ve yet to play.’
‘Here we go.’ Haechan grunts, motioning toward his friend and rolling his eyes. He’s been chatting up some of the girls they met at the beach earlier for the last couple of hours. Refilling their cups and flexing his thin bare arms to entice them. ‘Come on Ji, you always want to play these stupid games.’
’Well, are you too chicken?‘ Jisung’s grin grows larger, raising his eyebrows. 
Are you too chicken? He repeated deviously, eyeing everyone around the room. They all refuted his suspicions, turning the question around on him until he agreed to go first and was dared to break Haechan’s cool demeanor
The room erupted with hoots and hollers as he plopped his ass down on the olders lap and Haechan stuttered, eyebrows furrowed together, teeth clenched to hold back a curse.
‘Ji, get the fuck off of me.’
‘Do you give up?’ 
‘Fuck off.’
Haechan choked on his spit, coughing and shoving the younger away once their lips grazed together. Sitting up without falter, Jisung raised his arms triumphantly. ‘And that is how you play chicken.’
Another stupid game, only now drinks are involved, sipping on tepid beer as he watches Jaemin and Haechan lock lips before both losing at the same time. Dramatically spitting and swiping at their mouths as they kick at each other.
‘YOU WEREN’T SUPPOSED TO KISS ME BACK ASSHOLE!’
Embarrassment covered their faces as the girls surrounding giggled and cooed, letting them know they looked so cute kissing.
‘Fine fine! We start over from whoever hasn’t spun the bottle yet.’ Mark interrupts the ruckus, pointing toward Jeno. ‘Your turn.’
‘Not playing.’
‘And why is that?’ Jisung asks with an arched up eyebrow. ‘Scared?’
‘We know why..’ Renjun mumbles by his side, earning a round of snorts and hushed laughs from his friends.
They know exactly how to get under his skin, how to force his hand to grab onto the stupid bottle. Gripping the body of the emptied glass hard enough to feel the sticky residue left behind from the label that was peeled off. He gulps, refusing to glance around, not wanting to risk the chance of meeting your gaze.
There’s no way he can actually be so unlucky, not twice. The bottle will land on one of his friends, one of the girls they picked up. It won’t land on you, not again. The universe can’t be that cruel to him.
As he watches the bottle slow down, he swallows hard, eyes falling shut right as it comes to a stop. Confirming that some God out there must be an actual monster intent to ruin his life. 
‘The two people who hate each other.’ Jaemin laughs out loud, clasping his hands together. ‘This should be good.’
‘Don’t forget the rules.’ Jisung coughs out nervously, nodding toward you. ‘If you don’t want to continue, you forfeit.’
‘Don’t kiss me.’ You murmured, trying to be quiet enough for only him to hear. ‘Please.’
Jeno contemplated ending this fast and doing just that, would you give up before his lips could even get a small taste of yours? Not as if he even wants to know what the lip gloss you’re constantly reapplying tastes like anymore..
‘Go.’ Renjun motions to the both of you, flapping his hands. 
If you don’t want him to kiss you, he’ll have to come up with something else. Taking in a deep breath to raise his confidence, he reaches to push loose strands of hair behind your ear; gaining rounds of gasps and amused sounds from your audience. 
Wide eyes full of uncertainty, or maybe even dread, stare back at him anticipating his next move. There’s no point in bothering to ask if you’re okay with this, obviously you aren’t. Given the way your nose wrinkles as he moves closer to you and cups your cheeks. 
Soft, warm, so squishy beneath his palms that have been beat up from falling off his skateboard and landing hands first against pavement for years. You’re as pretty as ever up close, maybe even prettier. Churning his stomach as he looks over your lips, appearing to be pouting out enticingly on purpose if you ask him. And yet you don’t want a kiss, anything but that..
‘Don’t.’ You whisper again, hardly moving your mouth. 
‘Don’t what.’ He repeats monotonously, thumbs slowly sliding down your cheeks. His curious gaze follows, eyeing the swimsuit cover up you have on. The damp one-piece hot pink suit underneath.
Jeno forgets momentarily that this is just a game, that you hate him, that his friends are all snorting and chuckling around you other than Mark who has his eyes covered. He forgets that he’s parting your thighs open to make space for himself against your will, smoothing his hands up your shivering soft inner thighs. 
‘She’ll definitely crack..’ Jaemin’s sitting the closests to you, speaking to the others from behind his hand. ‘Jeno’s got this.’ He smirks, but his eyes widen within the next second. His full attention returning to his best friend's hands roaming up your body. To the way your stomach convulses and you squeeze your eyes shut to avoid looking at any of them.
‘No closing your eyes.’ Renjun speaks up, waving at Jaemin to do something.
Jeno slowly lifts his heavy gaze to his friend, practically threatening him with his blown out lust-ridden gaze to dare to try and touch you. This is his time, and the only one that should ever be lucky enough to lay his hands on you is him. The other seems to understand, silently nodding and shrugging Renjun’s command away.
‘You heard them.’ Jeno cups your chin, jerking your head to look at him. Lowering himself deep between your thighs, he grinds down as he lands. The heavy weight of the warm bulge inside of his shorts stealing a gasp from your throat, shooting your eyes fully open to land on his. ‘That’s it.’
Striking your core with another roll of his hips, he can hear the deep inhales around him. Everyone watching the tiny jolts your body gives, digging your back against the floor with each movement. 
‘This is too much.’ Mark says from further back, having moved away from the circle to cover his ears and look in the opposite direction. ‘I can’t watch.’
‘Can’t believe she hasn’t tapped out..’ Haechan whispers, biting down on his lips when Jeno picks up his pace, slinking a hand between your bodies.
‘Jeno..’ you grit between clenched teeth, unable to move yourself out from under his weight.
‘Loser?’ He taunts, shifting his lower half down more for his hardened bulge to press against your clothed slit. The tips of his perverse fingers seeking their destination as he taps at your bundle of nerves and pulls your spine to bow up. ‘Give up.’ He mouths, thrusting his stiff hard-on forward roughly. Successfully manipulating the fabric of your swimsuit to close in, sink between your folds. 
Panic runs all over your face as you shake your head and lower your gaze to where your hips meld into each other. Biting down on the backs of your teeth to quell down the moans beating at the inside of your throat. Jeno would shove his shorts and boxers off in one go given any other circumstance. Desperate to let his cock breathe the more he builds up his thrusts and slams his hips down. 
‘Fuck this is..’ Jisung wipes the sweat collecting at his neck.
‘Hot.’ Jaemin finishes, cheeks flushed pink with big glossy eyes scanning you from your pleasured face to your curved up spine.
Jeno would agree with them, if only he wasn’t so painfully horny. Clutching onto one of your thighs, he throws it over his hip for better leverage to nestle his cock right between your cunt. The material of his swim trunks all sticky and wet from the pre-cum that won’t stop dripping out of his cock. He grunts, using his free hand to grab onto your neck before his next thrust can jerk you too far up the floor. A moan gets caught up in his throat, panicking that it may slip free, he lowers closer to your face. Lips hovering dangerously near by, only a few inches away; each fan of breath emitting from his lips more threatening than the last.
Flailing out your arms in a panic, you stare up at him wide tear-filled eyes, reaching for his wrist. ‘N-no!’
‘Shit.’ He bites down, clasping your throat tighter. ‘Tapping out?’
With your eyes squeezed shut you weakly throw out your free hand at his chest. ‘No m-more!’
‘Fuck.’ Renjun groans, rubbing over his face. 
‘J-Jeno wins.’ Jisung says brokenly, stretching his shirt down to his folded in knees to hide the embarrassingly obvious bulge that's formed in his shorts.
Bending down, he hits you with one more firm thrust, lips pressed to your ear. The corners of his mouth twitch as he presses a kiss along your earlobe and nips at your jaw. ‘You lose.’
He watched your face crumble, squeezing your eyes shut as a whimper fled from your lips. Desperate for a taste he plastered his sweaty palm over your mouth. The way your eyes shot open and burned holes into him has never left his mind. Much like the way your thighs clenched around his hips, fear and arousal hitting you all at once. 
‘I know you want a kiss.’ Pressing his lips to your forehead, he thrusted against your core pointedly one more time. Rolling off to the side with a proud grin as he sat up victoriously.
Ever since that night, he hasn’t been able to keep his hands off of you whenever you meet up for summer vacation again. Well, that’s not exactly true, since he can’t actually touch you in front of all of his friends. What would Mark think if he saw the way you drop to your knees for him so easily, how you spit on his cock and gobble him down better than any slut in grade A quality porn? 
What would any of them think? And why does he still give a damn. If anything, his friends would be raging with jealousy if they could only hear the way you moan and cry on his cock..
“Jaemin!” 
There you are- jumping up from the couch only to run right past him and leap into his best friend's open arms; wrapped up in a tight embrace straight out of some cheesy romcom. Even snaking your legs around his hips, straight up looking like a pair of long-distance lovers.
Jeno would be offended if not for the act you two have successfully kept up the last few summers now. Because why would you greet him first? You hate him. 
He hates you.
At least that’s what everyone around the two of you believes.
“Ah, I’ve missed you so much.” His friend sighs, nose pressed against your hair with his eyes falling shut as he deeply inhales. It’s not unusual to see you this close with any of them, but his fingers still itch and jerk by his hips when you take a step back to cup Jaemin’s cheeks and squeeze them until his smooth lips pop forward and he brings out his signature big dolly eyes. Blinking those long eyelashes at you that he knows melts hundreds of girls' hearts.
“You’ve been crying.”
He nods and accentuates his plump pout, bitten over pink lips jutting forward much too close to yours. “It’s okay Jaemin, I’m here now. I’ve got you baby.”
Another hug, another sight that makes Jeno’s eyes shake as you rub up and down Jaemin’s spine, cooing and waving behind his back at Haechan and Renjun who enter next. 
Jeno won’t so much as get a nod or ‘sup?’ And he knows it. Clenching his teeth as he looks away and rolls his eyes. It’s not a big deal, nothing to overreact about, not like he’s your boyfriend or anything..
“Boooo!! Break up the love fest!” Haechan shouts, dropping his bag to hold out a thumbs down and obnoxiously blow his tongue out. “Gross.”
“Heyy, my poor Jaemin’s heart is broken!” You scoff, smacking his hand down. “He needs me, unlike you emotionless brutes, I know how to comfort him.”
Oh? You know about Jaemin’s break-up? The one that just happened 2 days ago? That seems to make Jeno’s ears perk up, watching from the corner of his eye as you motion for his best friend to follow you down the hall. “Come on, let’s get you all settled in. I brought you something.”
That’s weird.
Surely Jaemin will tell him about it later, you two have always been closer than you are even with Mark. It’s probably nothing, friends catching up.. that’s all.
Jeno will sneak to your room later, after everyone falls asleep and then you can properly reunite. He can’t wait really, would have made his way to your room once everyone settled into their rooms if you weren’t so occupied with Jaemin..
“Man, she wastes no time.” Renjun laughs, interrupting his thoughts. “Dude’s dick probably still smells like Jini, but here she is ready to claim.”
“Jaemin said they’ve been talking a lot though, must really want him since she never gave up.” Mark mentions, reminding everyone of their usual assigned bedrooms.
“Who’s been talking?” Jeno asks abruptly, shifting to stand awkwardly when everyone’s attention lands on him. “What are you guys on about?”
“This is like the first summer Jaemin’s ever been single.” Jisung shrugs, pointing down the hallway. “I do not want to sleep in the rooms next to either one of them.”
“Jaemin and Jini break up all of the time.” Jeno says flatly, patience wearing thin. “They’ll get back together before we even head home.”
“Not if she has anything to do with it.” Haechan snorts, smiling lazily to one side. Nodding in the direction you’ve disappeared off to with Jaemin.. “I know you hate her, but we all know she’s been dying to fuck Jaemin.”
What? 
Renjun rolls his eyes. “Should have been me.”
“Dude.” 
“Sorry Mark, but it’s true!” Renjun’s tongue clicks, glaring down the hallway. “I’ve been flirting with her since we were kids!”
“Haven’t we all?” Haechan adds, turning toward Jeno. “I mean, the rest of us. Not you.” He corrects mostly to calm the anger radiating off of his friend. 
“Can’t believe we’ve been here for longer than 10 minutes without the two of you exploding at each other yet.” Mark forces a smile, scratching his neck nervously. “Hope uhh.. we can skip that for the next couple of weeks.”
Jeno’s lips tighten together, sealing them shut to stop himself from screaming out something outlandish that he won’t be able to explain. There’s no fucking way you’re seriously trying to hook up with Jaemin? His best fucking friend? You’d never. 
But you would, because you love to piss him off, whether it’s intentional or not.
‘I want to see you. Right now.’ Quickly turning around, he shoots you a text. Squinting when his ears pick up on the sound of buzzing clattering on the kitchen counter. Of course you left your phone behind, great. 
Text Message From ‘the biggest asshole I know’ reads across the screen. Real mature. At least now he has an excuse to bother you.
“Uh, I’ll be in my usual room.” He nods toward Mark, hauling his bag up the stairs. “Need a shower and a quick nap.”
“Later bro.”
Dropping off his bag in the room across from yours, he tries to unlock your phone. Unable to access more than your lock screen when asked for the passcode, he grunts and walks over to your bedroom for the next couple of weeks. It already smells like you in here, all of your lotions and body sprays set up on one of the dressers, empty luggage on the floor. You must have gotten in early today.. didn’t even bother to text him and let him know.
You probably let Jaemin know, he thinks, eyes rolling off to one side annoyed. 
“What are you doing here?” 
Jeno’s head snaps to find you at the door, pulling your phone from his pocket. “Forget something?”
“Oh.. thanks.” 
“That’s all you have to say to me? What happened to hello? How have you been?”
“When have I ever cared about your well-being?”
“Right.”
He hasn’t even had time to get a good look at you yet. Slowly dragging his eyes down your figure to the sandals you have on, your cutely painted toes. The same toes he’s stuffed inside of his mouth while 9 inches deep inside of you. “If I was Jaemin, you’d care.”
“Jaemin’s my friend.” You say snarkily, letting the door stay open behind you. “Is that a problem?”
“Seems like a lot more than a ‘friend’ to me.”
The questioning look in your eye screams something he can’t decipher, maybe something he doesn’t want to begin to figure out. “You shouldn’t use my best friend just to make me jealous.”
“God, you seriously think that my world revolves around you.” Rolling your eyes, you point behind yourself toward the door. “Get the hell out of my room.” 
“Are you gonna make me?” Jeno’s head feels fuzzy already as his palm slams against your door to close it shut. He can’t deny he missed this, the way you stare at him with disgust written all over your pretty features, a little fear hidden in your gaze. Your tight-lipped frown, puffing your chest out to come off more intimidating than you could ever pull off. It makes his blood buzz, ears light up pink filled with fire, intoxicated by the hate that only you are capable of giving him.
“I said get out of my roo—!” A large palm around your throat cuts off your screaming before you can finish. Stealing your next breath with the heavy weight of his hand encased around your neck.
“Wanna repeat that for me?” He mocks, leaning in closer to hiss near your ear before your eyes roll up to find his. That lost empty headed look he’s become addicted to locks in on him, the same exact way it did in the coat closet downstairs near the entrance only a few years ago. 
7 minutes in heaven never stood a chance between the bickering and insults you lashed out at each other alone in the middle of hung up jackets and stuffed away pillows. Somehow you two always ended up in these situations, whether it be your friends looking for a laugh or destiny sending you down the same path.
‘Let’s get this over with.’ You rolled your eyes like such a brat. He hated it, hated how easy one little stupid movement could make his skin crawl. No reason you should look that good showing off the whites of your eyes, acting like a little bitch.
‘I’m not fucking kissing you.’
‘You think I want this?! I’m so sick of always getting stuck with you! You’re probably the worst kisser—‘
He had cut you off back then too, the same exact way. Enraged by the lies you continued to hurl at him with intent to hurt. ‘You never shut the fuck up.’
The moan that slipped out of your lips caught the both of you off guard. Tightening his chokehold on your throat to earn another more desperate whiny sound. ‘You like that?’
You still like that, love it in fact. Pursing your lips together to shoot a wad of spit at his face, you gain a bit of momentum while he curses and shakes off the saliva dripping down his cheek. Using his moment of distraction to claw at his shoulders and slam your hips down onto the leg he trapped you against the door with.
“You fucking bitch.” 
He knows you hate it when he calls you that, evident by the added pressure you dig into his shoulders with. Strong enough to tear tiny holes through the material of his worn down t-shirt. He hisses and shoves the back of your head against the door. “I’ve been great by the way, in case you’re curious. Thanks for the warm welcome.”
“Did you expect the red carpet rolled out sunshine?”
“It’s not everyday a girl moans out that I’m the best fuck of her life.” He teases meanly, raising an eyebrow. “Have you forgotten already?”
Averting your gaze, you curse under your breath. Blinking away the heat that’s rushed up to your cheeks and burned up to the rims of your eyes. “That’s not—“
“Not what?” He cuts you off, digging his fingers into your hips to roll your lower half up and down his thigh. “Not true?”
It was a moment of weakness, Jeno knows. Knew last summer when you whimpered and trembled on his cock inside of the small pool house he followed you into. Lost in the euphoria of your orgasm or not, nothing you cried out had been a lie and you both know it. Even if you refused to meet his gaze after and changed the subject when he brought it up again later. 
“Fucking hate you.” You whisper, showing lack of resistance as he speeds up how fast you rock up and down his thigh.
“I’m the worst.” He cooes, licking his lip. Pressing in to nudge his nose against yours. “Say it, tell me I’m the worst.”
“Sick is what you are,” you spit out breathily. The taut skin between your eyebrows folding together. “So.. fucking annoying.” You pant, the loose summer dress you threw on riding up to your stomach. Underwear scratching against your clit maliciously. “St-stop.”
“Come on baby, tell me.” He huffs, thigh bouncing against your circling hips. “Who fucks you as good as me?”
No one. No one does.
Shaking your head, you look away, face scrunching up as your orgasm begins to unfold. “Bullshit.”
“Making a mess all over my thigh after only a few minutes?” He questions huskily, licking up your sweat damp cheek. The mocking tone unravels a frantic panic through your gut, flushed by the embarrassment. “And you expect me to believe anything you’re saying right now?”
“Ugh! Get off of me.” You grunt, pushing your weight against his chest. Beating your rolled up fists down on his pecs. “Asshole.”
“What’s your problem?”
“You. Always you.” You spit, moving around him to open one of the nightstands drawers. Thighs gripped together to stop yourself from making a mess down your thighs. “Only came in here to grab Jaemin’s gift.”
“Oh?” Jeno’s eyebrows raise all the way up high, tongue dragging across the upper row of his teeth. “Wasn’t aware of the Birthday party?”
“I don’t need celebratory excuses to buy my friends gifts.” You sneer, intentionally walking into him on your way to the door. “You wouldn’t know anything about that.”
“What’d you get him?” He asks curiously, attempting to grab the bag from your hands. 
“None of your fucking business.” Taking a big leap toward the door, you yank it open. “And get out of my room.”
“Why? I can just wait in here for you.”
“I’m busy catching up with Jaemin, won’t be back soon. Don’t want you stinking up the place.” Blowing him a kiss, you finish with a raised middle finger. “Fuck outta here.”
Jeno watches you head down the hallway toward the room Jaemin typically shares with Jisung, confusion streaked across his face. 
“This doesn’t make any sense..” he whispers, leaning against your door. You seriously just ditched him like that?!? When you’ve practically damn near mounted him and tackled him down for a quickie each time you reunited the past few summers?!
Shaking off his insecure thoughts, he trudges to his bedroom to finish off what you should be on your knees for. It’d be too weird to storm into Jaemin’s bedroom pitching a full tent to yell at you right now.. no way to explain that..
Whatever you’re up to, he doesn’t like it. Ruining his orgasm in the shower as he lightly bangs his head against the wet tile. Frustrated by all of the scenarios he keeps imagining you and Jaemin falling into, alone, in his room, on his bed, probably sucking face with his best friend.
“She wouldn’t.” He nods to himself, convinced that you may be dumb- but you can’t be that dumb.
Scrubbing at his wet hair with a towel, he catches the annoyed look on his face in the wet fogged up bathroom mirror. “She would.”
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“Holy hell.” Haechan whistles as you step outside, gaining Jeno’s attention to follow his line of gaze.
What the fuck.
“Mama Mia.” Renjun fist bumps Haechan, both nodding proudly. “No more granny one piece swimsuits.”
“Always knew she had a nice ass on her.”
Jeno’s upper lip curls upwards, glaring at you setting down a towel on one of the pool chairs. Making a real show of it with all the unnecessary bending over and hair flips you do. 
“If it walks like a whore and talks like a whore.” He mutters, scoffing. “Can only be a fucking whore.”
“Ehh, you’re just mad she’ll never let you hit.” Renjun jeers, pinching Jeno’s cheek. “Grow up!”
Slapping his hand away, he refocuses on setting off laser beams from his eyes into your backside. Your extremely exposed backside that he should have left marked up yesterday with his handprints and teeth marks. That would shut his friends up who have no chance with you, because you belong to him.
At least sometimes. 
The huge smile that graces your pretty face as Jaemin approaches you tells him otherwise. Sucking in the insides of his cheeks to bite down on as he watches the two of you embrace and his best friend's hands float much too close to the perk of your ass.
“Luckiest motherfucker in the world I swear.” Haechan curses, sucking air between his teeth when Jaemin takes the chance and gently pats your hip. “I give it one more day before they’re hooking up.”
“You’re probably right.” Renjun hums and agrees. “The sooner the better so we can swoop in next.”
“Wanna tag team?”
“Let’s do it.”
“She doesn’t want any of you.” Jeno shuts them up, frustrated by their banter interrupting his thoughts. Rolling his eyes petulantly and scoffing loudly to announce how annoyed he is.
Who the fuck does Jaemin think he is?! Suddenly single and immediately ready to deep dive between the first pair of legs ready to spread for him?! And you! Who the hell do you think you are! Shamelessly flirting with his friend?!
“This guy.” Haechan rolls his eyes, straightening up and puffing his chest out as you approach them.
“What’s on the menu today boys?” You ask cheerfully, not sparing Jeno a look.
“How about a mimosa for the pretty lady?”
“Sounds great!” You say cheerfully, bouncing up and down much too eagerly for Jeno’s liking.
“What are you wearing?” He hisses as quietly as possible, not wanting to draw attention from Haechan and Renjun as they scour through the pool bar for champagne. “What the hell is this?”
“Huh?” You ask dumbly, making the same old disgusted face you always pull when he tries to speak to you. “What did you say to me?”
Jeno watches his friends squat down in search of orange juice, grabbing onto your elbow to draw you closer to him. “I said, what the hell are you wearing?!”
“Uhm, a bathing suit?” Attempting to shrug him off, you push at his bare chest. “Let go of me!”
“Quiet down..” his lip curls in, tugging you closer. “Where’d you buy this? A fucking Hustler store?”
“I’ll have you know this is Beach Bunny! And I paid a lot for it!”
“Yeah, with daddy’s money.”
“You shouldn’t talk, West LA trash.” 
Ah, there it is. The same shit your spoiled little princess ass always has to say to him. Nothing new, the same fucking boring drag. “That’s all you got? Come on, you can do better than that.”
“Let go of me, Jeno.” You say sternly, with a serious tone. Failing to free yourself from his grip.
“Cover up slut.” He spits, nostrils flaring. “Prancing around showing everything off like that for free? Who fucking raised you?”
“What’s your fucking problem?!” 
“Hey uhh,” Haechan clears his throat, taking light steps toward you with Renjun in tow. “Drink’s ready.”
The two peer back and forth between you and Jeno, worry etched across their faces. Repeatedly stealing looks at his hand cradled around your elbow. 
“Thanks.”
Before you can reach the flute of champagne and orange juice, Jeno’s arm shoots out faster than he can think. Stealing the glass from Haechan’s hand to pour down your chest and stomach. A round of shocked gasps coming from his friends and the high-pitched scream you let out snaps him fully alert. Taking a step back with wide eyes as you shake off the sticky liquid and proceed to glare at him with balled up fists.
“What. The. Fuck!”
An apology nearly rolls off of his tongue before Renjun rushes to clean off your stomach, shifty-eyed as he takes extra time to dry off your chest. “My new bathing suit!”
Jeno acted abruptly off anger and worry, mostly worried of what his friends could be wondering about finding the two of you like that. Clenching his fists, he bites back the apology that tries to push through.
“Dude, that was not cool.” Haechan snickers at him, snatching the glass back with a look full of disappointment.
“Yeah Jeno, grow the fuck up man.”
Ugh! Great. Now he’s made a fool of himself all thanks to you once again. Shaking his head, he catches your piercing gaze before squatting down to hide behind the bar. You knew good and well what you were doing stepping outside in some skimpy little two piece, dental floss riding up your ass. It’s not his fault that you get off on making him angry or whatever the hell it is that motivates you to piss him off.
“Don’t worry, you still look sexy as fuck.” He hears Renjun mumble. Grinding his teeth together as he continues to pretend to look for something to drink. 
“Yeah, here, take this one to Jaemin.” Haechan adds, handing you two champagne flutes. “Go get your boy.”
“You guysss,” you giggle playfully, shooting them both a wink before heading off.
“That was really low, even for you man.” Haechan leans over the bar just as Jeno stands up, distracting himself by reading the label on the bottle in his hold.
“Get over it.” He mutters, ignoring the judging looks his friends share. 
“He’s too old to be going through a hormonal imbalance.” Renjun whispers, nudging Haechan’s side to look over in the direction you headed off to. “Kind of funny how Jaemin’s the prey instead of the predator.”
“He doesn’t stand a chance.” Haechan snorts, taking a sip of his beer. “Wish I was dead meat instead, would gladly lay my body out like a corpse to be picked over.”
“What’s that about?” Jeno glares toward the corner of the pool you’ve sidled up to with Jaemin much too close by your side. Floating there, occasionally leaning against the stairs. Smiling and laughing all too much for his liking. The champagne flutes sitting emptied along the edge of the pool along with other bottles his best friends already finished off.
“They’re probably gonna fuck.” Haechan shrugs, speaking casually. “We all saw that coming.”
What?!
Jeno’s mouth pops open, quickly picking up his jaw, shielding his eyes from the sun with his hand to properly look at his friend. “What the fuck do you mean by that?”
“Literally that.” Renjun adds, coating the glass in his hand with sugar along the rim before pouring in various shots of alcohol. “Good for her, she’s been trying to get inside of Jaemin’s pants for years. Wish it was me, but whatever.”
You have?! Since when!
Jeno quickly stands up straight, fists clenched at his sides. “Sh-she said that? She told you that?”
“Pftt, it’s obvious. She hardly even keeps in contact with any of us all year except Jaemin.”
WHAT?!
“Yeah, she’s helped him a lot through this break-up with Jini.” Renjun shrugs, mixing his drink. “But from what Jaemin showed me, they pretty much just flirt all of the time.”
“What?? Jaemin’s never mentioned her to me!”
“Probably because you hate her dude.” Haechan tips his sunglasses down the bridge of his nose to get a look at him. Cocking an eyebrow up with intrigue. “Anytime we so much as say her name you get all pissy and blow a gasket.”
“You’re worse than a girl sometimes.” Renjun snorts, joining Haechan’s side on one of the pool chairs under a canopy.
Okay. Valid. Maybe Jaemin would avoid mentioning you if that's the case. He works hard to keep this act up around his friends. Not that it is an act, he really does hate you..
But why would you fail to say anything?! You’ve never once told him you’re into Jaemin! Not that you would.. whore. 
“Dude, you okay? Why are you making that face?” Haechan laughs, pointing toward the frustrated wrinkles formed between Jeno’s eyebrows. “Look like you’re about to shit yourself.”
“Shut up.” Jeno waves him and Renjun off, stomping toward the house while sneaking a look back at you and Jaemin. There’s no fucking way you’re seriously trying to hook up with his best friend, right in front of his face! Even through the water he can see your hands groping over his thighs, lips only an inch away from each other. 
Who the hell do you think you are! Probably want him to suffer and watch you flirt with some other guy right in front of him. Not just any other guy but his best god damn friend. The one person he holds above all and trusts with his life. 
Haechan and Renjun think he’s too old to be acting like this?! If only they even knew what the hell you’re up to at your grown ass age.
Stomping inside of the house, he paces around the kitchen rubbing at his face. To think he had plans on taking the next step with you this summer. Of admitting something he’s not even sure he wants to be honest about anymore.
“Did the big pissy baby get overheated out there?”
Your voice shatters his stupor, twisting around to find you leaned over the kitchen island with a pleased shit-eating grin on your face. “What are you doing?” He asks flatly, charging to lean over the other side of the counter and meet you half-way. “Or, what do you think you’re doing, huh?”
“I don’t know what you’re going on about.” You shrug, walking around him to get to the fridge. “Came in here to get Jaemin some ice, everything’s melted down in the cooler.”
“Bullshit.” Pressing against your back, he flattens you against the cool freezer door before you can get it open. “I’m not into this game you’re playing, so stop it.”
“Like I said,” you push back against him, groaning as he uses extra strength to keep you pressed. “I don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about.”
“You don’t?” Curling a digit under the strap of your bottoms, he tugs until the material painfully stretches across your rim. Peering down and licking his lips at the way your hips jut back toward him. “This pretty flimsy poor excuse of a swimsuit wasn’t to impress me, was it?”
“Stop pulling at it!” Grabbing onto his wrist, you try to tug him off. Hissing at the friction caused against your core. “I’m serious Jeno! It’s expensive!”
“You know what else is?” Letting go of the strap to crack against your hip, he wraps around your waist and turns you fast. Manhandling you into a bent position over the kitchen counter. “What you owe me for that stupid little act out there.”
“Don’t! Jaemin’s waiting for me!” You wriggle, grabbing at the counter ledge to escape. Firm heavy hands settle against the end of your spine. Locking your lower half in place with his hips pressed securely against your backside.
“Being way too loud, you’re trying to get caught at this point.” Peering outside of the nearest window, his friends seem oblivious to anything taking place outside of drinking and splashing around. “What if Jaemin sees you like this? Acting like the filthy whore you are. Does he know that side of you yet?”
“Stop!” You writhe against him, squeezing your eyes shut as his nails trace down your back to the swell of your ass. 
“Answer me.” The warmth of his palms cup under your butt, shoving up until the fleshy skin folds over on your lower back. “Does he know?”
“No..” you mewl, grip on the counter loosening. Struggling to stay balanced on your tiptoes with shaky knees.
“Why not?” Jeno tuts, rolling his hips in a circle against your lifted bottom. “Only for me?”
“…mhm..” you admit, full of shame, dropping your cheek to lay flat against the cool marble of the counter. “Only for you.”
“If I leave you marked up right now..” he mutters, sucking in air between his teeth. Pulling off of you an inch to admire how much smaller his hands look trying to knead and squeeze all of your plump backside. “How will you explain what happened to all of your admirers?”
“Please Jeno, come on..”
“What are you begging for?” He says mockingly, digging his blunt nails deep enough to hurt but not leave behind more than faded indentations. “For me to fuck you right here?” Bending over on top of you back, he grabs onto your jaw to make sure your eyes find the window. “Want them all to see, don’t you?”
“N-no..”
“Why? Afraid they’ll find out what a slut you really are? After playing this fake innocent act all these years?”
“Jeno—seriously, this isn’t funny!”
“We both know,” dragging the tip of his nose down your cheek, he bites down on your jawline. Pushing off to pull your bikini bottoms to one side and expose your core. “You love being watched.”
It’s reminiscent of that first time he broke you down in front of all of your friends. Laying here, letting him have his way with you again, excited by the idea of getting caught. “Left me hanging yesterday..”
Squatting down to his knees, he cups your ass, slowly pulling you apart to get an up close look between your thighs. Wet warmth painted between your slit eagerly greets him, sucking in a long-winded breath. “Don’t tell me you’re this wet because of someone else?”
A pathetic sound comes out muffled with half of your mouth pressed to the counter. Shivering as he purses his lips and blows out soft breaths of air along your middle. 
“I asked you something.” Landing a hard smack down on your ass, he grips your hips to stay in place when they jump back.
“Only you.” You mumble quietly.
“Say that shit again, I want them to hear you.” Another rough hit jolts your backside. Bouncing against the counter, digging into your pelvis from the pressure you slam back down with. 
“Jeno..”
The backyard door creaks open, snapping both of your necks straight and jumping up to stand. Fixing your bottoms into place as Jeno curses and stands awkwardly by your side, left with no time to dig inside of his swim trunks and adjust himself before he spots the intruder.
Jisung’s dark hair bounces through the corridor to the kitchen not a second later, surprised to see you standing together in the kitchen.
“What’s going on here? You two fighting again?” Jisung rolls his eyes, pausing to take in the disoriented state both of you are in. “That’s weird.”
“What?” Jeno asks shortly, jaw clenching annoyed by the interruption. 
“Uhm,” blinking down toward the olders crotch, he quickly shakes his head and continues to walk to the bathroom. “Nothing.”
Waiting for Jisung to disappear from your line of sight, you let out a sigh. Nodding to the huge tent Jeno’s sporting in his trunks. “Might want to go take care of that before going back out there.”
“Aw man, fuck. Little fucker definitely saw that.” Jeno lets out a long-winded breath, banging the back of his head against one of the cabinets. “Come to my room later?”
“Can’t.” You say stiffly, pretending to ignore the throb between your thighs. “Already told Jaemin we could watch a movie together. Anyway, try not to cum inside of your shorts.” Without giving him a chance to respond, you rush back outside to curl up close to his best friend's side under one of the sun umbrellas. 
Jeno takes a few steps ready to chase after you, cursing out when his lower half brushes against the counter. “Fuck.”
He’d ignore how hard the veins lining his cock thrum, engorged and full of blood from the thought of finally getting some and wait a few more minutes until he goes soft, but you just look too damn good in that stupid flimsy bikini. Better than you should flaunting yourself for anyone other than him. This is the second time he’s had to jerk off thanks to you. How stupid of you to think this shit you’re pulling will pay off in the end, unless you’re looking to get fucked close to to death. Two can play hard ball, and he knows he can play much harder than what you’re able to handle.
“Whatever.”
♡︶♡︶♡︶♡︶♡︶♡︶♡︶♡︶♡︶♡
“I’m always here for you Jaemin.”
A smile finally appears, ducking his face as he chuckles softly and reaches for your hand hanging by your hip. “You’ve been too good to me ever since the break-up. I don’t know how to thank you.”
“You don’t have to thank me for anything, I’m your friend. It’s my duty to make sure that smile never leaves your handsome face.”
He pauses for a minute, thumb rubbing the back of your hand as he zones out and nods. “You are my friend. She never really liked that, said I’d call this a boys trip just to come out here to flirt with Mark’s cousin..”
A swell of hope crashes through your chest when his eyes lift to yours and he smiles large enough for the top row of his teeth to fully show. One of your favorite things about Jaemin, his blinding smile that you really would do anything to bring out. “Friends aren’t supposed to flirt, right?”
“I wouldn’t even know how to begin flirting.” You pout, exaggerating your blinks. “How would I flirt? Can you show me?”
A clear tinge of red rises up his neck, dropping his head back to let out a howling laugh, inadvertently squeezing your hand tightly. “The idea of you- of all people, not knowing how to flirt is too funny. “Don’t make me laugh.”
“I don’t see what’s so funny about that.” You smirk, leaning in to sway closer to him for your face to only stand a couple of inches apart. “Can’t you teach me how to flirt? I bet you’re real good at it.”
Jaemin staggers for a moment, smile fading slowly as he takes in your curious gaze. The glint in his gaze darkens, slowly dragging across your lips. “You really want me to show you? Not just bullshitting me?”
“Mhmm.” You nod, biting down a grin.
Clearing his throat, he straightens, releasing your hand to rest his arm above your head against the door frame to your bedroom. “Say, we just wrapped up a first date..” He hums, painting a scenario out for you without breaking eye-contact. “I walk you home, thank you for gracing me with your presence.” He huffs, lip lifting to one side holding back an amused smirk. “And then I stop to look you up and down, just like this.”
Slowly, long thick dark eyelashes take their time to fan down over his pinkened cheeks, tucking his lower lip in beneath his teeth as he passes over your chest. Licking the plumpness filling his red juicy bottom lip. “And I lean in close enough to feel your breath quickening, to watch your chest rise faster. Making it obvious that I can’t stop staring at you, can’t get enough of your beauty. Really make every second feel like minutes as I admire how gorgeous and sexy you are.”
His voice deepens to a low rumble, re-enacting everything he says until your backs pressed flat against the door, breathing shallowly, gone silent with evident awe all over your face.
“I don’t have to say much..” he smirks slightly, the standard traditional cute cocky and charming smirk he always pulls when getting his way. His hands lift to move a loose strand of hair behind your ear, intentionally slowly grazing the shell of your ear. Pleased by the obvious shiver that passes down your body. “I just..”
Taking one more step forward he meets you at eye level, dragging his fingers down your jawline to your chin to pinch, focusing on your lips naturally parting open for him, so inviting.
“Lick my lips,” and he does, dragging his tongue from one side to the other, gaze more sultry and hooded now. “And whisper right here like this..” only a hair’s breadth away, he whispers less than an inch away from your mouth. “And when do I get to see you again?”
Fuck. 
Ready to scream, you have to bite down on your tongue when he abruptly pulls away and shrugs, standing up straight. “Works every time.”
“Uhm,” sucking down a dry gulp, you nod rapidly, patting for the doorknob behind you. “I’ll definitely have to try that out sometime.”
Jaemin backs away, stepping backwards and shooting you a wink. “You’ll have to let me know if it works. Now get some rest, we have a long day by the pool tomorrow.” 
You’d swear he hasn’t stopped flirting given the way he spins around and watches you from over his shoulder still stuck in place against your door as if you’ve been hot glued there. May as well be, clenching your thighs in a deathgrip out of fear that the sticky heat pooling your underwear could trickle free. 
“Jesus fucking Christ.” You whine once he’s disappeared to the other side of the house. Letting out a long exhausted sigh, you quickly make to enter your room, reaching for the light switch as the door shuts behind you, coating everything in darkness. That’s strang—
“You can’t be fucking serious.” 
A roar full of anger charges at you, rasping deep before colliding with your chest, crashing your back against the opposite side of the door you were just fighting to free yourself from.
“Ah, fuck!” You hiss, reaching to rub the back of your head sure to have a walnut sized bump by morning. “Jeno?? Is that you?!?”
“Who the fuck else would it be Sherlock.” He rasps angrily directly in your face, lodging one of his thick forearms under your chin until you cough from lack of air.
“Wh-what the hell are you doing?!” You manage to squeak out, slapping his elbow. “Get off of me!”
“What the hell am I doing?!” He growls, nose digging against your forehead. “What the hell are you doing!!”
“Huh??”
“My best friend?!” Jeno’s screaming, crackling the louder he gets, jerking his arm against your neck to congest your air flow. “Please be fucking serious. I’ve had enough of this shit! You and whatever this is- it ends now.”
“Wh-what?!” You cough, clutching onto his muscular forearm with both hands, struggling to suck in large inhales of oxygen. “I said get off of me, you fucking dick!”
“God you won’t be satisfied until you fuck literally everyone.” Dropping his arm, he gives you no time to recover, manhandling you around to slam you chest first against the door. He scoots up behind you, slotting his covered lower half against yours. The familiar addictive warmth you’ve hungered for since last summer break throbs against your bottom, having to grind your teeth to control an onslaught of whimpers from giving away your arousal. It’s been hard enough to stop yourself from tapping at his door. Having to distract yourself with another cheesy Disney film to watch with Jaemin until you can’t fight sleep off any longer.
“You’re such a whore, fucking open up your legs for anyone.” Strong hands grip the backs of your thighs, slowly climbing up higher to cup the swell of your ass. “I don’t give a fuck who you fuck. Haechan, Renjun, you can even take Jisung’s virginity for all I fucking care. I’d expect no less from a whore like you.”
Pressing in, he flattens to your back, shoving his arm around your neck from behind, cupping your chin to turn your face to the side. “But you will not,” Jeno breathes heavily against your cheek, licking down to the corner of your mouth. “Fuck him.”
You know by now it’s better to stay silent judging by how riled up he already is after blue-balling him twice now. Rutting against your ass like some starved beast desperate to feed, fuck and kill.
But you both know the real reason you sneak around, fight in front of everyone else, taunt and torment each other. The real reason you glare at him from the corner of your eye and suck on his fingers in private. It’s a game for the two of you, and you’re just about ready to cross the finish line to wrap this up for good. Win or lose, you’re tired of playing.
“Oh yeah? And who’s going to stop me?”
Jeno’s mouth hangs open against your cheek, hot gaze burning down your face. “Why him. Why him out of everyone?” 
“I like him.” You admit, reaching back to dig your nails into his sides. “And I think he likes me too.”
“Fuck you.” He emphasizes with a hard thrust rocking your hips roughly against the door. “You’re only doing this to piss me off.”
“This is going to shock you but my world does not revolve around you.” You huff, smacking at his sides. “So full of yourself.”
“Maybe I am.” He grunts, bicep curling around your throat tighter, dragging his lips up to your ear. “And you? Wanna be full of me?”
Wet thirsty eyes roll up to meet his, slowly tucking your juicy bottom lip in to suck on. “Mhm..”
“Don’t play fucking dumb.” He jerks, squeezing his arm around your throat harder. “You know exactly what you’re doing to me.”
“To you? What am I doing to you?” You ask in a cocky tone, jamming your bottom against his groin. “Besides making your dick grow a couple more inches?”
“Best cock you’ve ever taken.” He reminds you. Breaking you down round after round last summer until you were acting brainless, spilling out nonsensical thoughts worshipping him for fucking you so damn well.
Best mouth too, you refuse to add, sleek gaze thinning on him expectantly. “And me? What the fuck am I to you?”
“My whore.” Biting down on your cheek, he tightens the chokehold on your throat even more. Fully stealing your breath and pulling tight until you’re perched onto your tippy toes. “Only mine, got that?”
This is really the foreplay between you, learning early on how much you enjoy being roughed up and dragged around. It’s your thing, what really brings your true self out. And Jeno’s the only one that’s ever picked up on what you really want in bed. How you dream of being fucked, what makes your cunt slick up. Never even having to ask or confirm if what he’s doing to turn you on is enough.  
All he has to do is remind you of how ashamed you should feel, how dirty you really are for giving it up to him so willingly. A little smack to your face, asphyxiating your lungs and spitting in your mouth, that’s all it took to have you groveling for more on your knees. Begging him to slap you with his long thick cock, literally drooling at the sight of it with your hands pressed together pleading for him to fuck your throat.
Each time you’ve hooked up repeats in his mind non-stop. No one else he fucks with back home matches up to how good you take it, how submissively you melt down at his voice. He can’t stop coming back for more, tingling at the thought of getting his mouth and hands back on your body. That’s why you always end up here together alone in a safe dark place only built for the two of you.
He’ll never admit how much this means to him, how much you mean to him. How much this turns him on, because part of him believes you have to know by now even if he doesn’t do a proper job of showing it. This, these intimate moments with you, bare naked shedding all your inhibitions away one by one, he wouldn’t trade this in for anything in the world.
“Y-yes,” you croak, snaking your fingers around his forearm to create an inch of space. “Yours.”
“Exactly.” He says proudly, licking across his upper lip. Forever and always his, because no one else will ever compare. Certainly not Jaemin, and no fucking bum that tries to earn your attention after him. 
The fuzzy look in your eyes that drives him mad sets off a coil in his stomach. Heat invading his chest as he looks over your swollen bitten lips, hazy gaze hooded by lazed eyelids making you even more seductive and enticing. “Made me wait so long for this, you know that.”
It’s a warning for what’s to come, landing a weighted slap down on your ass before he strips off the shorts you have on. Even through the minimal light entering your room from the window, he sucks in a breath between his teeth and gropes over your hips and thighs, scooping your ass to bounce against his palms. “Think you deserve to get fucked after the way you’ve been acting?”
“Y-yes..” you whisper shamelessly, glancing over your shoulder at him. “I deserve it, don’t I puppy?” A hint of playfulness in your voice lifts the corner of his mouth up, fast to shake off his smirk. Jeno’s jaw falls open, blinking furiously to ward off his shock. 
Nothing gets under his skin more than that bullshit cute nickname you use on him. Always at the worst times, sparking up annoyance and butterflies through his chest. “Don’t call me that.”
Dropping down to his knees, he wastes no more time to dig his face between your ass cheeks. Dragging the tip of his nose against your wrinkled rim, he breathes in deep knowing you hate when he does that. Or at least you pretend to by squealing and kicking your feet back at him. Mortified and having to look away when he spreads your ass apart to kiss up and down the crevice of your ass.
Tugging his shirt off, he gets back between your legs. Dragging his pouted lips between your slit, sucking small amounts of your arousal onto his tongue. He groans against your core, vibrating up to where you look over your shoulder at him waiting patiently for what he knows you want.
What you want and won’t get.
Pressing firm kisses to your clit and rim, he bites along the perk of your ass. Gently nipping at the fleshy skin, slapping your hips for your butt to ripple against his face. “Shaved your pussy all cute like that for Jaemin?”
A muffled sound of surprise gets lost in your palm, covering your mouth to hide your shock. “No..”
“Sure you didn't, baby.” Slowly standing back up he litters kisses up your back. Gathering your hair to one side to suck on your ear until you squirm and push against him. Kissing down your neck and biting at your shoulder blade before pulling off, he crosses your bedroom to sit on the edge of your bed. “Get your sexy ass over here and sit that pretty pussy on my cock.” 
Outstretching his legs, he nods his chin for you to move quick. Walking on trembling legs to quickly obey him, you move to stand in front of him and grab onto his shoulders. 
“Jeno..”
Bleary blown out dark irises peer up at you beneath a thick layer of eyelashes. Losing himself in the heat of the room and your aroused scents beginning to infiltrate the space. Tightening his lips, he adjusts to your hands snaking up his throat, jaw twitching as you dig your thumbs into his chin. “Are you still my puppy?”
Jeno wishes you’d let it go. One night a few summers back when you drank far beyond your limits and he found you in the backyard before you were able to cannonball into the pool. Dragging you back inside, he held your hair back as you emptied your guts and cried about ruining the night. It was a moment of weakness on his part, much like yours. Assuming you’d forget about everything that took place in that bathroom he soothingly rubbed down your spine and told you to stop whining. 
‘You haven’t ruined anything.’ No, just his heart and ego that have never fully healed since you entered his life. Not that you’re allowed to know any of that, God forbid he be honest even if you looked so cute as he cleaned off your face. 
‘You know,’ you mumbled, relaxed against the wall as he dabbed your cheeks free of tears and remnants of alcohol. ‘You’re such a puppy.’
Jeno squinted at you, snickering under his breath. ‘Whatever that means.’ Ignoring the ache in his chest, he dampened a cloth and wiped down your neck. 
‘Means you’re so cute.’ You whined, weakly smacking his arm. ‘My cute puppy, making those sweet eyes at me.’
My cute puppy. His hand hing mid-air, wide eyes full of surprise. You’re never this nice to him, or this drunk..
‘How much did you drink?’ He scoffed, swallowing the tightness away from his throat. ‘Too much.’ He whispers.
‘Mmh.. you’re right. Way too much.’
And yet, the smile creeping onto your face right now makes his stomach ache. Grinding his teeth together as he steadily grabs you by the waist and you lowers onto his thighs to seek the fat tip of his cock, hissing as it snags along your wet pulsating entrance. 
“Hurry the fuck up and quit pissing me off.” He growls, slapping your ass hard enough to echo through the room. 
Taking a deep breath, you have to reach down to guide him in. Stomach sucking in as the familiar stretch begins to split you open. It’s been so long, too long since you’ve taken not only Jeno’s cock, but a cock this fucking thick in girth. Squeezing your eyes shut as a cry pushes out from your lips and the thick head of his size inches in, lighting a fire under your cheeks as creamy wet sounds gush their way up to your ears.
“I don’t have all fucking day.” He snaps, slapping your buttcheeks with both hands even harder than before. Forcing your posture to slump forward, other hand shaking on his shoulder as another inch pushes in. Already wasted enough of his time with whatever that was, probably just trying to manipulate him to get your way again.
“S’too big—“ you whine frustratedly, wrapping both of your arms around his shoulders.
“Never too big for you,” Jeno exhales deeply. “Sluts like you only know how to get fucked.”
Taking it upon himself, he wraps around your waist good and tight, bucking his hips up and pushing you down at the same time to fully take in each and every inch. Burying himself deep inside of you to the brim, coercing your wet arousal to drip down his length and pour down heavily onto his sack. He curses between the strangled scream you wail out, wedging each inch in as deep as possible. Dragging his wide length against your tight hot walls with smooth rolls of his hips grinding upward. “Fuck that’s it.”
“S’too much.” You repeat stupidly, already fucking babbling. Drooling onto your chin and rolling your eyes shut above him. Nails drag down his shoulders to his biceps, circling his arms for something to keep you grounded to earth, fearful you’ll float away as pleasure builds up higher and higher. 
Winding his arms around your waist tightly, he sucks on your neck. Licking at the sweat pooling its way down to your collarbone. Grunting against your skin hot and heavy as you start to relax around him after minutes of grinding his cock between your thighs. “Take it.” He whispers along your throat, biting down hard enough to leave marks. Slamming his hips up harshly, colliding your ass down on his upper thighs and filling the room with the sound of your damp wet skin clapping against his.
Lack of response drives him to pummel inside of you even faster. Bracing his hands under your thighs to lift you up and down his size easier, he begins to hoist your limpened weight up and down. The stretch around his cock snapping with each pull out to the tip, dragging deliciously through your clenching heat. Wet pussy slickening up and drenching his cock making each glide inside of you easier than the last, clinging sticky arousal down to his balls. The skin between his own thighs sloppy with it, one of his favorite parts about fucking you, always amazed by how wet you get for him. 
“Always so wet for me.” He pants already out of his mind, exerting more energy to mold your cunt to the shape of his cock. Providing noisy loud squelches with each penetrating hit of his length. It’s always so good with you, the best he’s ever had, as if he’d ever dare to admit out loud. Lost so deep in the heat of your eager tight pussy, he has to bite down on his lip hard enough to draw blood to not shout out something he could end up regretting later.
“Fuck you baby, so good for me aren’t you.” He opts to say instead, gaining speed as he moves back to your waist and pulls you down onto his cock faster. His length grazing against each nerve that shoots straight through your limbs, the clap of your ass hitting his thighs deafeningly loud throughout the room. 
“Uh-huh,” you croon, panting wildly against his shoulder. “Deep, so deep.”
“Yeah,” Jeno grinds hot against your most shallow area, the tip of his size kissing your womb. “Greedy pussy wants me even deeper?”
“Y-yes,” it’s impossible to ask for more, drooling down to your chest. Jolting on his cock like a rag doll. The aggressive pace he’s fallen into bouncing your breasts against his chest, creating more heat and sweat all over your bodies. “Please!”
So perfect how much you cry and moan for him, always perfect and good for him. Rasping his own groans out as he possessively grasps your hips and squeezes onto your ass. Hitting you with another succession of slaps before slamming you down onto his complete length. “Fuckfuck!” 
“Pleasepleaseplease!” The combination of your pleasured moans sets something off inside of him. Unleashing his need to feel every part of himself buried inside of you. Reaching to secure your thighs around his waist, he shoves off the bed. Knees bent as he uses all of his strength to stand up and haul your body up in the air with him. The arms around his neck scurrying to wrap around him tighter out of fear of being dropped.
Alarmed, frightened eyes shoot open to look at him, head shaking before his arms flex out using each and every muscle to impale you down onto his cock once again. Ripping an orgasm right out of you before you can even fully process that he’s standing up carrying all of your body as if you weigh nothing. Rushing a powerful orgasm out of you that spills down to his shins, splattering on the ground around his feet. “Fuck—yes!”
Letting out a deep guttural howling moan, he chases after release. Unbothered by the despaired cries you continuously let out as he fucks your sensitive pussy wide open. Bicep muscles flex large around your thighs and torso, dripping with a sheen of sweat the more he uses his lower half to push up and bury his length deep inside of you with each barreling thrust. Pliant like a good little doll as you get thrown up and down on him the exact way he likes. Aroused all the more by how your cunt still squeezes around him despite the sad broken little pained ‘ow’s’ you whimper between moans. Clumsily still trying to keep your hold on his shoulders through each sloppy wet stroke. 
“Fuck!” All Jeno can do is let out strings of curses. The blunt tip of his cock hitting deep enough to prod the skin under your navel out in this position. Deep, hard, so tenderless, evoking rough brutality with each violent pounding collision of his thighs crashing against your ass.
“Puppy,” you squeak, unable to form a coherent sentence or thought anymore. Toes curled up around his lower back as your thighs weakly flex to keep a tight grip around his waist. “H-hurts!”
The complaint only fuels him to fuck you faster, blinking away the sweat rolling into his eyes, his hold on you tightens. Crashing your weight down on his length to take take and take. All your good for, to take his cock like the fucking whore you are. Merciless with each slap of his full balls landing against your ass. “Gonna fuck you full of cum,” he says with a tight-locked jaw. Spinning on his foot to fall onto the bed with you.
Without missing a beat he reaches for the backs of your knees. Changing the position to keep his cock buried all the way inside of you. Pushing your legs toward your chest and slapping the sides of your thighs in silent demand to hold them in place. “Exactly like that, good little slut.” He says gruffly, hips returning to full on hammer inside of you without anything to stop him. Not the way you cry and scream, letting your legs flop out weakly from your hold when he brings down his thumb to rub at your clit meanly. Scorching another orgasm to flood throughout your body.
“Jeno! P-please! Enough!” 
The hot wrap of your pussy around his thick girth is too good to stop. He’d fuck you everyday, keep you sat on his cock even when he’s busy. Trained like his good slut to be ready anytime, anywhere, at any given moment. Drooling down your neck exactly like this, eyes fluttering open and shut as if you can’t believe this is really happening. Chest bouncing up and down so hard, hitting the underside of your chin. The arch in your spine is painful at this point. Struggling to not allow another orgasm to roll through your body as you lay there in defeat and let him have his way with you.
Curling a hand around your throat, he grabs onto one of your floppy legs, throwing your calve onto his shoulder. Drawing out to the tip of his length, he sucks in a wet saliva-coated breath at the sight of your beat up pussy. Ripe and dripping for the taking, only for him. He feeds the entirety of his cock back inside your velvety soft wet walls. Dropping your jaw open to let out a silent cry as he full on rails your cunt with abandon. 
“Made to take my cock,” he groans huskily, throat burning from this workout of fucking you. Pushing his stamina to its limits. But he can’t stop, won’t stop his hips from slipping his cock in and out. Clutching onto your thigh to control your writhing hips that jump with every sharp thrust that shapes your insides to take only his cock. “Only mine.” 
Still gaining momentum, he fucks into you with inhumane speed when you shout that you’re gonna cum again. Garbled by the sobs you won’t stop letting out, sounding more like chanted prayers worshipping the way he fucks you. Hips slap down against your thighs vigorously, fat cock making sure to permanently destroy your pussy, playing out the loudest wettest sounds with each penetrating hit.
“Oh God!” You helplessly cry out loud, back bowing upward. Shooting pain from your lower back up your spine as another orgasm rains down on you. This one nearly shoving his size out from the force of your release. Stuttering his movements enough for wetness to squirt out around his cock, splashing all over his groin and thighs. 
“Fuck, so sexy.” He sighs, swiping down to where his cock disappears inside of you. “One more.”
“N-no! No more!” Overwhelmed by pleasure, you can’t even sob anymore. Too short of breath and dizzy, numb between your thighs as he pulls out completely and readjusts your legs to press down the fronts of your thighs to your chest. “Je-jeno..”
“Shhh, one more for me. Only me.” Bracing his hands on the backs of your knees, he shakes off the sweat dripping down his face. Shoving every inch of his length back inside of your swollen used up pussy. Grinding pointed and perfectly right against the spot deep inside of you, the special place only he’s ever been able to repeatedly reach.
In a blur he races to reach his release. Pretzeling your body in half with his knees lifted off the bed, fully mounted on top of you akin to a predator that’s successfully acquired its kill. Circling its prey with hungry ravenous eyes, licking at his canine teeth ready to dig in. He fucks you through each tear, each trickle of drool that slips from the corners of your lips, each pulsing painful grip your cunt gives his cock. Furiously digging his toes into the bed to bury his length to the hilt, his thrust grow sloppy. Grinding into you one last time as his hips stutter and the sudden mind-crushing weight of his orgasm slams into him like a car wreck. 
“Fuck, every drop,” he whines, hitting you with one more weak thrust as hot sticky semen floods your pussy. “All of it for you.”
Gasping through his orgasm, you blink the glassy wet away from your eyes. Sent over the edge again by the visual of his jaw hung open above you, filling you full with cum, warming its way through your twitching stomach. 
The weak orgasm that hits you still tightens your muscles around his length. Both of you hissing when he tries to pull his overly sensitive cock away from it, dropping your legs to rest on his hips. He collapses to your side, biting down on his teeth as he pulls out with a loud pop and cum follows after him, dribbling down to your ass and the bed.
“Puppy..” you whine desperately, continuing to tremble through the aftershocks of repeated orgasms. “Kiss me.”
His eyes widen upon your request, staring up at the dark ceiling, still trying to catch his breath. “What?”
“Kiss me, I want a kiss.” You whisper with less confidence, scratching at his shoulder. “Please..”
Jeno’s eyebrows furrow, eyeing you from his peripheral vision. “I should go to my room, clean off before I fall asleep..”
“What?”
Sitting up, he hops off the bed in search of his clothing. “Yeah uh, it’s getting late.” He mumbles out quickly, hopping one leg into his pants. “I’ll end up falling asleep in here if I don’t get up now.”
“Is that..” You sniffle, sitting up with your arms circling around your chest. “..a bad thing?”
“Well yeah.” Setting your dress onto the bed, he tugs back on his shirt. “What if someone sees me leaving your room in the morning?”
“Because that’s all you care about.” You nod, sucking in your lips to hold in a cry.
“We both care about that, pretty sure.”
“You don’t get it.” You snap, getting up to throw on an oversized t-shirt. “You don’t fucking get it. You never have and you never will!”
“Get what?” Jeno glances around one more time to make sure he hasn’t forgotten anything. Oblivious to the tears that continue to roll down your face as you storm past him toward the door.
“Where are you going?!”
“Leave me alone!” You shout, attempting to slam your bedroom door shut before rushing out down the hallway. Using his chest to halt the wood from meeting the frame, he follows after you, eyes wide and full of panic. 
“What the hell is your problem?!” He hisses, fully aware of everyone’s bedrooms that you’re passing by on the way toward the backyard. “Come back here! Let’s go inside!”
“I said leave me alone!” You scream deeply once stepping outside. Running past the pool toward the gate that leads out to the sand and beach. “Go away Jeno!”
“No! Come on! What the hell are you doing! It’s so late!”
“Then go away! Fuck off! God just fucking leave me alone!! You were going to anyways!”
“Stop!” Finally catching up to you, he latches onto your arm halfway through the sand. Toes burying into the now cooled off grains that scratch and soothe his skin at the same time. “Let’s go back inside, right now!”
“Why! You don’t fucking care.” You spit out, snatching your arm away. “Don’t fucking touch me, please! Leave me alone!”
Jeno’s jaw hangs loose, staring at you with a look full of confusion and disbelief. “We were having a good time—I don’t get it, what the hell—“
“You were having a good time.” You bark, shoving at his chest. “You.”
“Is this about him? Is this about Jaemin?”
“You’re un-fucking-believable, you know that?!? Ugh! I’m such an idiot! All of this time I’ve wasted on your ass!”
“What are you yelling about?!”
“Do you even know! Do you even have a damn fucking clue how many times your friends have tried to fuck me! And I still choose you!” Digging through your hair in a furious rage, you bellow out a scream between a sob. The sadness you’ve pushed aside consuming your anger as tears push out in rivlets. “You don’t get it! And I’m the dumb idiot that held onto hope that you would..”
“Why are you telling me this?! To piss me off even more!” Jeno’s fist clench, jaw locked tight at the mention of his friends. Who fucking cares if they all want to fuck you. They don’t get to! And that’s the point, you belong to him and only him. 
“Oh God,” the sound of waves crashing against sand behind you only spins your head around faster. Trying to fully snap out of every thought and concern you’d locked up because you just liked him too damn much. “I’m gonna be sick. I can’t believe I—I did this to myself. That I let you do this to me!”
“Do what to you?!” Jeno wishes you’d spit it out already. Rubbing at his temples with his thumb and ring finger, he thinks about earlier. The way you were flirting up a damn hurricane with Jaemin. “If you want to be with him, fucking say that! Stop dragging me around—“
“Dragging you around?!” You cut him off, shouting nearly demonically. Grabbing your own throat out of shock at your gravelly tone. “You have the nerve! The fucking gull to corner me every chance you get and tell me I am dragging you around?! Oh my God.”
“Listen, you need to calm down.” Holding up his hands as a sign of peace, he startles and jumps back when you slap them out of your way.
“No!” The corners of your lips drag down more, sucking up the tears that won’t stop. Wet sobs mixing between your struggling breaths. “I’m so so stupid. All of this time, so stupid. Wish I hated you so fucking badly.”
“You do..” he should shut up at this point. But he can’t, much like vomit, speech continues to spew from his mouth despite his mind insisting he shut up. “You do hate me. You hate everything about me.”
“Yeah.” Scrubbing your closed up fists down your cheeks, you glare at him with the most pained expression he’s ever seen on your delicate face. Ripping right through his chest with the lack of hope left in your gaze. “I hate this. Hate how I fall for you so easily.”
Jeno’s mind seems to finally win, digging his hands into his pockets to stop himself from reaching out to grab you. He listens, sealing his mouth shut to finally listen.
“Hate when I feel your eyes on me when you think I don’t notice you. Hate how I have to pretend your stupid immature jokes aren’t funny. Hate when I do find you watching me, and you look away, even blush and try to play it off. How pretty your eyes look when they disappear when you smile. How stupid you look coming out of the pool with your messy hair sticking up every direction. How you sing along to all of my favorite songs and ruin them for me.” Letting out a long sigh, you cross your arms to hug your chest, shivering from the cool breeze that builds the longer you stand there. 
“I hate how I smile when I see a new text from you. How nice you smell when you shouldn’t, how your clothes always feel softer than anyone else’s. Hate the way you play guitar, how you pretended to yawn during that sappy romance movie we watched last summer when you were actually trying not to cry. Hate how you always play with the beach dogs by barking back at them with your tongue hanging out.”
Jeno can feel the warmth gathering behind his eyes, desperate to pull a yawn right now for the same reason he did while watching Silver Linings Playbook last summer. He pulls at the inside lining in his pockets, biting down on his lip, blinking rapidly.
“But mostly, I hate myself, because I tried so hard.” You blink a fresh cascade of tears, bringing your hands up to hide your face. “I tried so hard to pretend to hate you, to avoid this, to not get hurt.”
His mouth opens to speak, throat locked tight by invisible chains that squeeze around his vocal chords. “I—“
“You don’t care.” Shrugging, you wipe at your face and step around him. 
“Wait! No—“ scrambling to stop you, he wraps around your elbow. Practically losing his balance in the sand to stop you as his feet dig in for a better hold.
“Leave me alone!” You plead, ripping your hands free of his hold. “Please. Please do this one thing for me, for once.”
As much as it aches and pinches between his chest, he drops his hands, fingers twitching by his hips to stop you. 
Dropping your head back, you aggressively wipe at your eyes, turning away from him without another look.
Standing there with his feet surrounded by cooled sand, he watches your figure grow smaller and smaller until you disappear back inside of the house. You don’t want to be around him right now.. he needs to understand that. 
Tomorrow. You can talk about this tomorrow when you’re both feeling more level-headed and have had time to cool down. Sinking down to his knees, he pats over the footprints you left behind. Squeezing his eyes shut as the tears he held in finally find an escape and burn down his cheeks.
This feels wrong, in his heart all of this feels so wrong. But for once he’ll do as you say and leave you alone..
Tomorrow, he’ll fix this.
♡︶♡︶♡︶♡︶♡︶♡︶♡︶♡︶♡︶♡
Sleep never comes. 
Not even counting sheep or chewing down melatonin gummies made a difference. Jeno couldn’t stop thinking about the way you cried and screamed, threw him off and ran away.
You just needed to cool off. The two of you always fight, it’s what you do, and then you fuck and everythings fine again. This fight was different, more intense and left him feeling guilty. With bloodshot eyes he stared at the ceiling for hours thinking of all the different ways he could explain himself to you.
He had fully intended to confess his real feelings to you this summer. Even if it led to getting egg smeared all over his face, embarrassment and rejection. Not as if it’d be anything new, you love to humiliate him..
It’s still early, but he can’t take it anymore. The sound of pots clinking and dishes clattering from the kitchen gets him on his feet. If the guys are already awake and being noisy, you’ll follow in no time. He has to talk to you even if you haven’t cooled off by now..
Pacing in front of your door, he chews at his fingernails. Biting them down to the skin until a few feel raw and sore. He’s psyching himself out, building up the fear of what will happen after he knocks on your door.
“What’re you doing?” Jaemin groans, draping himself against the wall in only his boxers. Eyes puffy and hair sticking up in every direction. “Why are you walking back and forth out here?”
“I’m uh,” Jeno runs a hand through his hair. “Gonna make some coffee, wanted to ask if she wants any.” Coming up with a fast excuse, he points toward your bedroom with his thumb.
“Didn’t she leave already?” Jaemin yawns, rubbing and slapping his face to wake up.
“Huh? What do you mean?”
“I woke up to pee a few hours ago,” Jaemin yawns again, shaking the sleep away with wide wet eyes. “She said bye, had her luggage.” He shrugs. “Something about having to head home early.”
“What??” Jeno freezes, quickly turning to your door to shove it open. Everything’s gone, the beds made, the closet open and emptied. All of your belongings are gone, as if you hadn’t just occupied the room mere hours ago. “Why would she..”
“I don’t know,” tapping his head against the wall, Jaemin raises an eyebrow at him. “Can I ask you something?”
“What??” Jeno’s still in a panic, pulling at a chunk of his hair with a distressed appearance. Why the fuck would you leave?! Without even telling him??
“You know, like, years ago? That one time we were all playing chicken.” Jaemin asks quietly, morning voice still thick and raspy from lack of use. “I thought..” he laughs softly, shaking his head. “I don’t know what I thought—but you know, when it was your turn..”
“What about it??”
“Obviously all of us thought it was uh—you know,” he coughs awkwardly, rubbing over his bare chest self consciously. “Hot. I’ve been with Jini all these years, but I guess I’ve sort of had a small crush I’ve been ignoring ever since that night..”
Jeno stops pacing in front of your door to glare at his friend. A befuddled expression skewing his face. “What are you trying to say right now?”
“You see, you’re my best friend.” Jaemin straightens up, standing up straight, blinking his eyes open. “Even so, I know to mind my own business but..”
“Spit it out Jaemin.”
“Do you like her?” He squints, lip trembling as if he’s too nervous to even ask. “It’s just..”
“I do.” Jeno says between gritted teeth, holding in his breath to calm down. “I do, and I messed up everything. I fucking—fucked everything up.”
Jaemin nods, patting him on the arm. “Maybe you did, but Laguna isn’t that far of a drive from here.” Adding a nod of encouragement, he squeezes Jeno’s shoulder. 
“But..”
“Don’t bring my car back with an empty tank.” Jaemin smiles, motioning for his friend to head out. “Keys are on the kitchen counter.”
Jeno stares at him for a moment, wondering how Jaemin figured everything out. Mildly guilted by the fact that he’s never shared his feelings for you with him.
“Go.” Jaemin smiles, nudging him further down the hall. “The bus to Orange County doesn’t take that long.”
“I’ll explain everything later.” Jeno assures, throwing an arm around Jaemin before running off toward the kitchen. He hasn’t even had time to shower, eat, drink any caffeine. The anxiety rising in his chest lifts his feet off the ground, quickly waving off his friends that yell at him to slow down as he races past them and snatches up the keys to Jaemin’s jeep. 
There’s no time to waste, assuming that you’re on your way home, he runs to start the car's engine up. Pure adrenaline sets his foot on the gas before the jeeps even had enough time to warm up, rushing out of the streets to get on the freeway.
He hasn’t thought this through at all. Never even been to your house or visited your city once before. What if you don’t want to see him? This will all be a waste of time. 
But he has time to waste on you, he wants to fix this, needs to talk to you. Needs you to know how he really feels about you. Last night was more overwhelming than he had anticipated. 
He tries and tries so hard to read you, figure out what’s going on in your head. To know if you even see him as more than a quick and easy way to get off.. 
What if you tell him to fuck off? Leave you alone like you screamed at him not even more than 10 hours ago..
It’s all he can think about on this quiet long drive. Fighting off his emotions and guilt-ridden conscience that continues to replay your tearful eyes. Alone with his thoughts again, his heart that screams out your name.
“This has to be it.” 
‘The big house in the middle of the street with a dusty pink roof, you can’t miss it.’
That’s how Mark described it over the phone when he pulled out of the driveway and realized he had no idea where exactly you live other than knowing you’re somewhere out in Laguna. 
‘And the mailbox, you can’t miss the mailbox. My aunt’s like a hippie, she built it herself to resemble a birdhouse.’
Yup. There’s the cute dusty rose mailbox your mom must have made. He nods, messing with his messy head of bed hair that he had no time to even bother fixing before rushing out of the summer house. The drive took nearly 4 hours without traffic. Maybe your bus beat his time, he should ring the doorbell.. 
God, what if your mom answers?! Or worse, your father?! He really didn’t think this through. He could call you, but what are the chances you’ll even answer him right now. 
“I’m such an idiot.” He sighs, sitting down on the steps in front of your house. 
Maybe this was a mistake, choosing to impulsively run after you. He fucked up badly, and there’s no way to prove that to you now. Jaemin would treat you way better than he has, he can’t even be upset about it either. He knows his best friend well enough to know he’d worship at your feet probably even worse than he did with Jini. You deserve to be adored and loved.. all he’s ever done is shown you hatred. 
“Jeno?”
The sound of a car driving off follows, lifting his gaze to find your confused expression looking back at him as your driver pulls off. He did make it here before you..
“What are you doing here.” And you don’t sound happy about it. Speaking with a stiff tone and lack of curiosity, voice laced with anger. Why would you be happy to see him? He couldn’t have really expected that, even if he hoped for it.
“I, uh,” hopping to stand up, he pats off his jeans. Clearing his throat to ward off the tremble that passes through his vocal chords. “You left.”
Looking over Jaemin’s jeep, you squint, glaring back and forth between the car and back at him. “Did you drive here all the way from Santa Barbara?!”
“Yes.” He says clearly, hands fidgeting by his hips.
“Why.” The stern tone you speak with fails to waver, only emphasized by your stressed features. “Why are you here, why would you do that. And by yourself?! You barely leave the West side! All you ever do is talk crap on the OC. Why would you make this long drive here all by yourself—“
��Because!” He interrupts abruptly, chest tightening up the more you rant at him. “You left!”
“So?!? Why the hell do you care!”
“You—you didn’t give me a chance—“
“Give you a chance??” You repeat in disbelief, eyes blown fully wide. “A chance? Are you fucking kidding me?”
“I wanted to let you cool off! So we could start over and talk and I could tell you,” he chokes up, staggering back from foot to foot. Air becomes harder to swallow, shrinking in on himself when you interrupt him again, shouting to the high heavens.
“Talk about what! You said enough last night! Made it pretty fucking clear to me that this is a waste of my damn time! You can’t stand me, think I’m disgusting, clearly just fucking used me!”
“That’s—that’s not true.” He swallows, reaching for his throat. “You, you ran away!”
“And you let me.” With flared nostrils, you shoot daggers straight through his chest. “You think.. you can just show up here, at my fucking house? And what? What do you even still want from me? Came here to get your one last fuck in? Kick me one more time straight through my chest to make sure I never breathe again?”
“I let you say your piece yesterday.” He whispers, unable to meet your gaze. “And you don’t hate me.”
Letting out a short tired laugh, you slump into yourself. Shaking your head in pure disbelief. “Is that it? You won alright. I don’t fucking hate you.”
“Then I did win.” He nods, forcing himself to meet your rage filled gaze. “Because I’ve never hated you.”
“What? You’re going to tell me you’ve liked me all of this time? That you’re just an immature asshole with zero communication skills?” You scoff, crossing your arms over your chest angrily.
“I think I liked you before you ever even noticed me..” he admits feebly, lifting the balls of his feet off the ground to stand on his heels. The same anxious habit he’s had for years. “I should have told you, I know. I should have ended this thing we had going on and been honest with you. I have no excuse for my behavior..”
“You really expect me to believe you now? When you could have done something about this last night? When I poured my heart out for you?” As dramatic as you sound, he can’t fault you for it. You have every right to be as angry as you are. He’s only surprised that you haven’t reached out to slap him across the face yet.
“I’m a coward.” Taking a long deep breath, he instinctively clutches at his chest to calm his speeding heart rate. “After all this time, I never thought that you’d be the first one to confess. I always thought it’d be me, and I was ready to this summer. I know it’s selfish of me, but with you moving away for university next year, I thought..”
“Thought what?”
“That we could—“ Jeno can feel the burn behind his eyes, blinking rapidly at the moisture that’s coated his iris. Gnawing at his trembling lower lip to keep as much of a confident facade as he can. He stares ahead, time standing still as he takes in your face. The furrow between your eyebrows softening, the tension at the corners of your mouth dissipating. Even now he’s afraid of losing you, but hasn’t he already? Does he have a choice besides to let you go now?
“Jeno.”
“We could try hanging out, beyond summer vacation. That I could take you out finally, and maybe even ask you to be my girlfriend.” His eyes blink shut on that last word, digging a hand into his pocket to wrap around the small velvet bag crushed inside there. “Only if you’d want that..”
Opening his eyes, he can’t stop the few tears that trickle out. Slowly blinking at the wetness clumping his eyelashes together. “Only if you want to be mine.”
It was never supposed to be this way. Standing here before you lacking the right words to say, failing to his own fear of rejection. “I’ve never hated you.” He nods, patting his upper thigh nervously. “And I’m sorry for pushing you away when I should have been the one on my knees for you.”
Redness paints the whites of your eyes, shaking where you stand with your arms circling around your waist. He’d reach out to replace them if you’d let him.. wrap you in the tightest hug, chest to chest, pulse to pulse. “And I’m sorry that I came here to do this but..” dropping the velvet baggy from between his fingers, he steps closer to you. Dragged closer by the imaginary weight of the light object that holds all his deepest secrets and fears. “I’m not really sorry that I did.”
“Jeno..”
“You deserve to know that I love everything about you.” Wiping at his cheeks, he lets out a pitiful laugh. There’s nothing he can feel ashamed of anymore, and it took this moment to realize that. He had to steal Jaemin’s jeep, had to drive 20 miles above the limit, had to rush here for this. Because this wasn’t how he had planned for this summer to go. 
You were supposed to have the biggest smile on your face thanks to him, but now here you are, crying again. Tracks of tears staining your cheeks, swelling up your eyes that haven’t had time to fully recover from all of the crying you did last night. He doesn’t deserve to hold pride or carry on a false sense of strength anymore.
“I really fucked up, I think..” tugging the velvet pouch out of his pocket, he holds it out for you. “I think that uh, I wanted to be what I thought you wanted. And I was wrong, I was so wrong. I lost myself a little there when I heard you talking to Jaemin, I got jealous.”
“Jeno,” taking a hold of one of his hands, you only seem to cry harder. Drawing him to stand even closer to you. “I wanted you to be jealous, I wanted you to care about me.”
“Might be useless to say this now, but I care about you a lot.” Letting out a sigh of relief, he sets the pouch in your hand. “Even if we end things for good, I want you to know that this always meant something to me. That I’ve always liked you and hoped for more. That I am your puppy.”
“You’re not fucking with me?” You ask, pouting sadly and testing the weight of the pouch in your hand. “What is this?”
“Open it.”
“I’m scared.” You sniffle, hands shaking as you reach for the pouches opening.
“I know you’re going to university up North after summer..” Jeno sighs, anxiously scratching the back of his neck. “And like I said, I had plans to change things between us this summer..”
“Jeno? What is this?” You break into a smile, a new round of tears trail down to gather in drops at your chin. “You didn’t..”
“Because, I really like you.” Clearing his throat, he spreads out the necklace chain that you’ve taken out onto your palm. Swiping the tip of his finger across the engraved writing on the back of the dog paw charm. “I don’t know, you might forget about me after this summer. It’s fine.” He shrugs to seem calm. Not actually fine with the idea of you erasing the memory of him. “But I wanted to give you something to remember me.”
“You got this for me?” 
“I don’t know if you remember that night..” he nods, tight-lipped. “You drank too much,” picking up the charm, he lifts the piece of shining jewelry closer to your eyes. “Anyway, it’s just uhm...”
“I do, I remember.” You struggle to hide a smile, tracing over the words that read back ‘if lost, return to owner’.
Jeno frowns, itching to clean the tears off of your chin before they fall and land on your chest. Aching to find the right words that could ease your pain. 
“It’s not much, I know..”
“I love it.”
“Do you?” He sighs nervously, unclasping the necklace to chain it around your neck.
“Am I your owner?”
“..I want you to be.” His throat bobs up and down, gulping to soothe the dryness scratching through his throat. “I want to be yours.”
“So you’ve always liked me?” Losing the battle to hide your smile, you bite down on your lip. Sweeping away the mess of tears continuing to run down your face. “When you say you’ve always liked me..”
“Ever since the first summer at the beach house when I called you cute.” 
“Even after I was grossed out?”
“Even after you were grossed out.” Laughing it off, he takes a hold of your hand with a raised eyebrow. 
“Jeno, I hate you, you know that right?”
“You know that I love that, right?” He asks in return, taking the chance to cup your cheeks and clean off the residue of tears. “It’s our thing.”
“It is our thing..”
“So, what do you think?” Biting at the insides of his cheeks, his smooths his free hand down the side of your neck. Eyebrows raised with wrinkles set between, hopeful that the smile forming on your face is a good sign.
“I think.. you drove all of this way to get here.. and my parents aren’t home.” Shyly smiling, you bury into his hold. Cheeks flamed with heat, demurely lowering your head to look at your feet. 
“They aren’t?” His eyes go wide full of excitement, softly caressing the skin lining your throat.
“Do you want to come inside?” 
“Am I about to see your room for the first time?” 
“If you want to, do you?”
“Of course!” Jeno smiles wide, clearing his throat and quickly reeling it in to appear cool. “I mean.. yes.”
“Of course you do,” you tease, nodding for him to follow you inside. “You likeeeeee me.”
Jeno waits for you to unlock the front door, bouncing back and forth on the heels of his feet. Normally this deep into a conversation with you, his throat would be hoarse from screaming by now. Instead he feels clammy, short of breath; nervously chewing on his lips when you turn to look at him and lean against the door frame. 
Relief rushes through him when you pucker your lips together and motion for him to come inside. Somehow this feels like a new start, what he should have made happen sooner than this. Stepping forward, he grabs onto your waist, palms damp as his nerves continue to short circuit.
“I do, I really like you.”
“You know.. I like you a lot.” You reassure, wrapping around his shoulders. “I waited for you even after all of my friends told me to give up and move on.”
“You told your friends about me?” 
“Don’t act so surprised.” You snicker, tugging at a tuft of hair above his nape. “You’re kind of a big deal to me, but just so you know.. they all actually do hate you.”
Jeno blinks slowly, slightly offended and flattered. Admiring how much softer your eyes feel on him, lighting up at the inner turmoil appearing on his face. 
“You’ve got a lot of ass kissing to do.”
“Good thing I’m a pro at that already.” He winks, sinking into the way your fingers dance along the back of his neck. This really is different, even the way his heart races and his body reacts to you. But one thing that certainly hasn’t changed is his desires and incessant craving to be all over you.
“Kiss me.”
♡︶♡︶♡︶♡︶♡︶♡︶♡︶♡︶♡︶♡
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littlechivalry · 2 months
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I love the idea of our Hawkins teens going to a showing of a Rocky Horror so much so please join me in this:
Eddie's driving. He's excited, loves that he gets to 'pop their cherry.' He pulls up to Harrington house expecting to see Steve and Robin posted up outside in full Brad and Janet regalia.
Eddie of course is dressed as Eddie and of course he thought about Frank but that might be too much. Steve is cool but is he cool? Eddie hopes but he's not an idiot.
Instead of proper Midwestern church clothes he finds Robin standing out front in a raggedy black suit, her hair greased down while Vicki (and yes Eddie had had his suspicions) is next to her dressed as a maid with her own bright red hair teased out to heaven.
"Riff Raff? Magenta? I didn't expect to see you two here."
Vicki laughs but Robin gives him a look that makes a shiver run up his back.
"So where's Steve? Decided to stay home?"
The last syllable barely leaves his lips when the door opens and - - -
LEGS. Fishnet stocking LEGS. Tap pants and a bustier and a shining tail coat and a top hat and a blinding grin and LEGS.
"Columbia?"
Steve laughs and dances down the steps and he's wearing tap shoes too? Eddie may not survive this.
Robin laughs at him but Vicki pats his shoulder in commiseration.
The drive to Indy is filled with jokes and conversation and music and Eddie is paying attention to the conversation. And he is paying attention to the road. But
LEGS
They get to the theater and get their props and their seats. A few songs in Steve begs off to go to the bathroom. Does Eddie watch him go? Of course. Can he actually see him very well in the darkened theater? No. But it's the principle of the thing.
Then the music starts up for the Time Warp and Eddie is on his feet along with everyone else in the theater. There are performers on stage dancing along with the movie, a long line of tuxedo clad strangers when suddenly a figure goes flying across the stage and Eddie can hear Robin and Vicki whooping but he is frozen.
It's Steve. Tapping. It's a perfect recreation of Columbia's dance routine and when the other boy finally comes to a stop, gasping, on a chair at the corner of the stage Eddie finds his voice screaming louder than he has at any concert he's ever been to.
A few minutes later Steve makes his way back to his seat and Robin lunges past Eddie to throw herself at him. Eddie can make out that she's talking but not what she's saying.
They make it through the rest of the show and it's amazing. Eddie's second favorite moment may be when Steve and Robin wrapped their arms around him during "Eddie" wailing out fake sobs.
They sing and shout themselves hoarse. The ride home is quiet but in the best possible way. Robin and Vicki are as good as sleeping in the back of the van and Steve is leaning against the window, humming along with the radio.
"Hey," Eddie says softly. "Where did you learn to dance like that?"
Steve smiles but it's barely a shadow of his usual smile and it fades fast. "When I was little my mom still gave half a shit about being seen as a good mother so she put me in dance classes. It didn't last too long. My dad didn't like it and after a while it became more important for her to be seen as a good wife so I was taken out and put into every sport."
Eddie doesn't say anything. Can't say anything.
"I really liked it though? I can't play music and I'm not much of a singer but I really like dancing. Robin had to put up with me practicing this almost constantly for the past few weeks. I thought she was gonna kill me."
"So you learned this for tonight?"
Steve turned to face Eddie and smiles. "I learned it for you, man. Thought you would get a kick out of it."
The small ember of Eddie's crush on Steve had initially been lit years ago in high school. He had banked it carefully, couldn't bear to let it go cold but too worried about losing Steve as a friend to let it flare bright.
"You learned it for me?" Eddie's stomach feels warm
"Yeah," Steve says, smiling. "Every Eddie needs a Columbia, right?"
Steve is laughing at him and that only makes Eddie feel warmer. Steve. His crush, Steve. Steve did this for him.
"Yeah," Eddie says. "Yeah, he does."
"Thought so," Steve says, turning back to the window.
Eddie drives them back to Hawkins in a silence full of potential.
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wholoveseggs · 3 months
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Small Victories
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18+ ---- {Masterlist} {Tag-List}
{Daemon Targaryen X Reader} After a tourney in which Daemon places second, he seeks solace from his loss and finds it in his little northern maid.
♡♡ Hello darlings! I'm branching out slightly and writing about a new character {Don't worry, I'm still writing Elijah} xoxo ♡♡
5.3k words - Warnings: smutt, size!kink, rough sex, dom!daemon, slight choking, virgin!reader, northern!reader, servant!reader, pre-dance Daemon, huge power imbalance...
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♡♡ Hey! I didn't tag anyone because I'm unsure if you want to read Daemon content. If you wish to be tagged in future Daemon let me know ♡♡
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You didn't like the Red Keep, it was too grand for your liking. Even with all of the people in it you still felt alone. At night, you could hear voices echoing throughout the halls, sometimes they were singing or laughing and other times they were screaming or moaning.
You could never tell where the sounds were coming from, it gave the place an odd feeling of being haunted. Ghosts weren't something you put your faith in, but that didn't stop the hair from standing up on the back of your neck whenever you heard a strange sound.
If it was up to you, you wouldn't live here. You would be back in the little cottage you grew up in, far into the north and as far away from King's landing as you could possibly be. It was a funny contradiction, that such a grand place in a warm environment could feel so cold, while a small house in the cold north could feel so full of warmth.
The last thing your mother said to you, was that you should be grateful. That your place in the Red Keep was the highest honor your family could ever hope to receive, and that you should do anything to stay here. To be a lady's maid to the queen, was the highest achievement a low born could achieve.
You tried to be, even though your heart yearned for the snowy landscape of your childhood. You wanted to be happy, you were thankful, but you couldn't help the way you missed the north.
So to try and capture just a bit of personal freedom, you would walk the halls at night. It was the only time you could pretend to be somewhere else, even if it was only for a moment. You would close your eyes and imagine yourself somewhere new and exciting, and when you opened them you would be reminded of where you really were.
Tonight you were in a particularly adventurous mood, there was a tourney the next day for Prince Viserys and his wife Aemma to celebrate their wedding. The Red Keep would be full of guests and it would be loud and full of life, you were sure to be very busy, and so you decided to stay up late and postpone sleep for a few more hours.
There was a room in the library that had a view of the city, one you liked to frequent often. It had a large window and a balcony that was rarely used. It was a nice place to go to clear your mind and think about home.
When you entered, nobody was around except for a cat that was perched on the windowsill. She was a lovely thing with black fur and bright green eyes, the perfect color of a dark forest at night.
"Hello, beautiful." You greeted her with a smile and a light stroke along her back. You looked out the window with her at your side, watching the moon reflect off the ocean and the waves crashing against the shore.
The sound of footsteps behind you made you look over your shoulder, your eyes landing on a man with a face that made you stand up straight and bow your head.
"Prince Daemon." You greeted him, not looking up from the floor.
"Young maidens like yourself shouldn't be out so late." He said, stepping closer to you. You didn't dare move or even breathe, his presence made you feel like you were caught doing something wrong.
"I couldn't sleep, my lord," You answered, not meeting his eyes. This was your first real meeting with the prince, but you knew the rumors that surrounded him.
He didn't respond to your answer, instead, he turned his attention towards the view. Leaning against the window, his posture was dismissive, as though you weren't there. He gave you a side glance that read, 'leave,' and so you did, not wanting to get in his way.
"I apologize, I didn't mean to intrude." You said, walking past him, heading towards the doorway.
"You are from the north," he spoke, still looking out into the water.
"Yes, my lord," You answered, stopping when he started speaking.
"How did you find yourself as a maid in the south?" He asked, looking at you, his eyes piercing through you.
The truth of the matter made you feel shameful, even though it was beyond your control. So you decided to tell him what you've been telling everyone.
"I was given as a gift for our new queen," You said, looking down at the floor.
"Is that what they call it?" Daemon laughed, his laugh was as harsh as his voice, the kind of laugh that could cut you open if you let it. "I heard you were given away as payment for a debt."
Your cheeks reddened and you looked at the ground, your throat closing up at the mention of your family's failure. Pride wasn't something you could afford anymore, but you couldn't stop the words that came out of your mouth.
"I didn't realize that princes were so fond of gossip." You said, meeting his eyes, your words were meant to cut, and they did.
He stood up straight, his expression unreadable as he closed the distance between the two of you, towering over you.
"Ahh, so they did sell you." He smirked, looking down at you. "Whoring can make you better coin… recover a debt quicker."
Your hands balled up into fists and you took a step closer, a defiant glare on your face.
He chuckled and tilted his head, he reached out and touched your chin, his hand was soft but firm as he turned your face to look at him.
"With a pretty face like yours, I'm sure you would make quite a bit of coin," His voice was a purr, a seductive growl that made your insides feel tight. "I could show you a better use for those lips."
His words were shockingly vulgar, his voice was rough and commanding and his eyes were hungry, but you didn't move away, you stayed still. You knew the dragon prince was a scandalous man, but you didn't think he would ever be so bold.
"There is no honor in a whore's coin." You answered, pushing his hand away from your face.
"Is there honor in emptying the queen's chamber pot?" He retorted, grinning slightly at how red your cheeks had become.
"Not all of us have the opportunity to choose what sort of honor we can acquire,” You said, standing your ground as best as you could.
He towered over you, his tall frame casting a shadow that almost completely covered you. He wasn't like the king or queen, who were kind and generous. There was something dark and malicious about him, as though the great beasts of his house lurked just below his skin, waiting to come out.
"You have a smart mouth, little northerner." He mused, his eyes drifting down to your lips. "It's a wonder that the queen has not put a gag in it."
"It's a poor quality I have yet to overcome." You responded, pulling away from him and putting some distance between the two of you.
He watched you move away, his eyes following your movements and the shape of your body, making you feel hot.
"I will think of you when I win the tourney tomorrow." He said, his tone smug and confident. "A sweet northern flower to bring back with me."
"You will be bringing back nothing, prince Daemon." You said, your voice a warning.
He laughed and looked at you, his eyes dancing with mischief.
"We'll see about that."
And with those final words, he left the room. You felt flustered and annoyed, a strange mixture of feelings that confused and angered you. You didn't like the prince, but he made your heart race, his voice and his eyes made you feel a strange sense of heat.
You wanted to be disgusted, and yet all you could think about was seeing him again.
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It was a hectic morning, with all the knights and guests arriving, and you were late. Your tardiness had earned you a sharp reprimand from your head maid, but you were too distracted by the upcoming event to care.
The prospect of seeing the prince again was something you weren't sure you wanted, but couldn't stop thinking about.
You didn't like the way his eyes lingered on you, or how he made you feel things that shouldn't be felt. The rogue prince was indeed a fitting title, he was a scoundrel and a liar, a man of dishonor.
You thought that maybe he was the sort of person that the south created, perhaps they took people like you and turned them into someone like him. But then again, he wasn't really a southerner, no, he was a dragon.
The sound of cheers and laughter outside made your ears perk up. The queen was already seated with the other royals in their viewing box, and you were in a nearby tent, preparing more wine and food.
The tourney had just begun, and so far the knights had all performed well. You had only been paying a bit of attention, trying to do your job and keep out of the way.
The head maid was a cruel, vindictive woman, and she had been taking out her frustration on you all day. Her temper was short and her hands were rough, she was the kind of woman that would slap your hands or pull your hair if she was upset. But today she decided to simply make your life miserable with her words.
She gave you the worst jobs and the heaviest items to carry, and when she did allow you to stand and rest, she would hit your feet with her broom and tell you to get back to work.
"Once you are finished pouring wine, I want you to go to the prince's tent and serve him." She ordered, her eyes were sharp and her words were harsh.
"The prince has a squire to serve him." You protested, the idea of facing Daemon again made your cheeks turn red.
"The prince requested a woman's company,” She smiled, her eyes looking at you with an almost wicked satisfaction.
"I believe what the prince is looking for can be found on the street of silk, not among the ladies maids." You countered, hoping to change her mind.
"It's an honor to serve the prince, and he has specifically asked for a northern girl." The head maid was adamant, not willing to let this go.
You clenched your jaw and took a deep breath, biting your tongue as you looked at the floor.
"Very well, madam."
You held back tears as you climbed the stairs to the viewing box, pouring wine into the cups. Keeping your eyes low and only lifting them when absolutely necessary as you made your way down the line of royals.
Everyone began to stir and chat as the final round was announced. You turned to face the arena, watching as the prince mounted his horse, the sight of him made your heart flutter.
He was a handsome man, there was no denying that, his long blonde hair was braided and tied back, and his purple eyes were focused and determined.
His horse was a massive stallion, black as night, and he rode him as though they were one. He moved with a grace and confidence that was captivating.
The final round began, the two men charging at each other. You were nervous and excited, not knowing what to expect.
The clash of steel was the only sound in the air, it echoed throughout the entire arena. The crowd was silent, their eyes locked on the scene before them.
The two men passed each other, once, twice, three times. The tension building with each near miss, until finally the two knights clashed again.
Daemon's opponent had a slight edge over him, being bigger and stronger, but Daemon was quicker. But on the fourth pass, his opponent managed to catch him off guard, sending him flying into the dirt.
The crowd gasped, their hands covering their mouths as the prince's horse bucked and ran, leaving him in the dust.
You winced at the sight, it wasn't a good fall. He landed on his back, hard, and he lay still for a moment, his eyes squeezed shut as he caught his breath.
Only when the head maid cleared her throat did you realize you had been holding your breath.
"You are needed in the prince's tent, girl." she commanded, grabbing the jug from your hands and giving you a stern look.
You nodded, taking the tray of food and wine from the table and heading out of the box. Your heart was racing and your palms were sweaty, the thought of seeing Daemon after such a public humiliation was not something you were looking forward to.
The air was alive with the roar of the people, and the thumping of their feet sounded like thunder. They were chanting for the champion, something that would surely upset Daemon even more.
When you got to his tent, you hesitated, taking a moment to calm your nerves. You closed your eyes and took a deep breath, letting the noise of the crowd fade away.
You stepped inside, finding him sitting in a chair, his shirt was off and his squire was cleaning a nasty gash on his arm.
"I'm sorry for intruding, Prince Daemon." You said, placing the tray of food on the table and pouring a cup of wine.
"Leave," he barked at his squire, his voice was gruff and his jaw was clenched.
"But my prince-" his squire protested, looking up from the wound he was treating.
"Now."
The boy left quickly, leaving you alone with the brooding prince.
"Would you like some wine, my lord?" You asked, your voice soft and timid, the last thing you wanted was to make him even more upset.
"No," he hissed, his voice sharp as a knife. "Bring me a new shirt."
You did as he asked, walking over to the large chest in the corner. It was full of clothes, the colors and fabrics were fine and beautiful. You selected a clean white shirt and brought it over to him, your eyes focused on the ground.
"Look at me," he commanded, his voice was quiet, but it was a demand, not a request.
You lifted your eyes, meeting his gaze. His eyes were cold, the same shade of violet that had captivated you was now a glare.
You did very well, my lord," You tried to reassure him, your voice soft and comforting.
"Is that meant to be comforting?" He asked, his tone was harsh and his expression was a scowl.
"Fine. I have never seen a worse display than the one you put on today," you said, the words slipping from your mouth before you could stop them.
He smiled, then laughed, his shoulders shaking as his amusement grew. Only his brother the king would ever talk to him this way, and here you were, a young low born northerner, mocking him. He didn't know why he enjoyed it coming from you, perhaps it was because your words meant nothing. You were no one, and he was the prince, and yet he found himself intrigued.
"That was quite a show, wasn't it?" He chuckled, the sound was hollow, not at all humorous.
"It was humiliating," you answered, the words escaping before you could stop them.
"Careful," he warned, his eyes narrowing. "You're lucky I find your insolence amusing."
"I thought it was why you had asked for me," you retorted, setting the shirt on the table and taking a step back.
He stood up from the chair, closing the space between the two of you. The air was thick with tension, his eyes boring into yours, his face was inches from yours.
"I didn't lose the tourney," he stated, his voice a low growl.
"You didn't win either," you countered, your cheeks flushed red, your heart racing in your chest.
He smiled, the gesture was almost predatory, he reached out and grabbed your face, his hands were rough and his grip was tight.
"You are quite the mouthy little wench," his words were a harsh whisper, his breath hot against your skin.
You didn't answer, afraid of what he would do if you spoke. He seemed to be enjoying himself, his eyes dancing with amusement as he stared at you.
"On your knees," he ordered, his tone demanding.
"My lord, I-" you protested, trying to pull away.
"Kneel," his voice was louder this time, and you knew that he was not going to repeat himself.
You hesitated for a moment, but he was the prince, and you couldn't disobey him. So you lowered yourself onto your knees, looking up at him, waiting for him to tell you what to do next.
"Is it true that northern girls can take a cock better than southern ones?" He asked, his hand still holding onto your chin.
You didn't know how to respond, his words making your cheeks burn. You could only stare at him, your mind reeling as you tried to figure out what he wanted.
He smiled, and the look in his eyes made your heart race. "Open your mouth, little northerner."
You did as he commanded, your eyes never leaving his. He pushed his thumb past your lips and slowly pressed down onto your tongue, rubbing it in circles before slowly dragging it out.
Your lips parted and your breathing became heavier as he traced his wet thumb across your bottom lip, his eyes fixated on the movement.
"Beautiful." He whispered before sliding his thumb back into your mouth, pushing it all the way into your throat, causing you to gag.
He pulled his thumb from your mouth and wiped the spit off on your cheek before grabbing you by the arms and lifting you up, turning you around and pushing you face first into the table.
"My lord," you gasped, struggling against his strong grip.
Daemon laughed at the look of shock on your face, his cock growing harder at the sight. "See? I knew you would make a great whore," he smirked, his words bringing a flush to your face.
He pulled your dress up, exposing your ass and legs. His hands were rough as he groped you, squeezing your thighs and your cheeks.
You pushed against him, trying to free yourself, but his grip was too strong. He pushed your thighs apart, his hand trailing up to your cunt, his fingers stroking your entrance, teasing you.
He softened at your defiance, a smirk crossing his lips. "I enjoy you, little northerner. Perhaps I should keep you," he mused.
He slid his finger into your cunt, his touch gentle and slow. You whimpered, pushing against him again.
"You would be my little northern flower," he murmured, his finger moving in and out of your cunt, the pace becoming quicker. "A blue rose in my garden."
You were ashamed of how aroused you were, the prince's touch was intoxicating, and you couldn't stop yourself from grinding your hips against his hand. You had never been with a man before and the pleasure he was giving you was beyond anything you had ever felt.
He slid another finger inside of you, his movements quick and rough. You moaned, biting your lip as you felt yourself getting closer to release.
He suddenly pulled away, the sudden absence of his touch made you whimper. He spun you around, knocking objects off the table and pinning you against it. Your hands went to his chest, pushing him back, but his grip was too strong, his eyes filled with lust.
"You're a feisty one," he whispered, his lips trailing down your neck, his hands gripping your ass, lifting you up and pressing you against his hips. "I guess it's true that the fires always burn hotter in the north,"
You shivered as he sucked and bit at the skin on your neck, his teeth scraping across your sensitive flesh, leaving red marks behind. You couldn't help but moan, the feeling was so intense, and the sounds were so sinful.
"My prince... I..." You stuttered, trying to find the words, but he cut you off with a kiss.
The feel of his hands on your body, his lips on yours, his cock hard against you, was intoxicating. You had never felt this way before, this desire, this want. He made you feel like you were drowning in the fire of his touch. He was a dragon, and he would take what he wanted.
You couldn't resist, you gave in, kissing him back, letting his tongue explore your mouth. He smelled of blood, dirt and sweat, a combination that shouldn't have been appealing, but was.
You could taste his lust on your lips, and it made you hungry for more. You wrapped your legs around his waist, pressing yourself closer to him, and he moaned, the sound rumbling in his chest. He was so much larger than you, so much stronger, and you felt so small in his arms.
His hand trailed down your chest, slowly untying the strings that held up your dress, his fingers tracing over the fabric, teasing you.
"Sweet little northern girl," he teased, his voice a low growl. "Are you going to give yourself to me?"
"Yes," you whispered, your cheeks flushed pink.
He kissed you again, his lips rough and demanding, his hand pushing your dress down, exposing your breasts. "You've never touched yourself before, have you?”
"No, my Prince," you whispered, your little hands curled into his chest, your nails digging into his skin.
"That's alright, I'll show you how it's done."
His hands slid down to your thighs, his fingers trailing up, his touch light and teasing. You let out a gasp as his fingers brushed over your cunt, touching a spot that made your body tremble.
"This little spot right here," he said, rubbing his thumb against it, "is the most sensitive part of your body. The more pressure, the better."
You nodded, gasping and moaning as he pressed his thumb against it, circling it. You could feel the heat rising within you, the pleasure building.
"Feels good doesn't it?" He whispered, his voice husky, his lips brushing against your ear.
"Y-yes," you stuttered, your hips moving, grinding against his hand.
He chuckled, the sound sending shivers down your spine.
"Do you like being my little whore, hmm?" He asked, his lips trailing down your neck, his kisses hot and wet.
"N-no," you moaned, pushing him back, trying to fight against him.
He laughed, his teeth nipping at your collarbone. "Liar," he whispered, his tongue licking over the marks he'd made.
His hands reaching down to his waist, undoing his breeches and pulling them off, his cock springing free. You gasped, your eyes wide as you took in the size of him.
He took your hand and placed it on his cock, his eyes burning into yours. "Go on, feel it," he whispered.
Your fingers curled around his cock, your small hand barely able to fit around him. You moved your hand, sliding it down the length of his shaft, his cock thick and pulsing in your hand. His skin was so warm and smooth, his breathing deepening as you began to move your hand up and down, stroking him slowly.
You could see the scars from battle stretched across his chest and torso. Small claw-like marks around his pectoral and a deep line that stretched down the left side of his rib cage. He was a hardened warrior, and you could tell by his scars, he had been through much to get where he was now.
You squeezed his cock, moving your hand up and down, his breathing deepening and his eyes growing hazy. He watched you, his gaze following every movement you made. You were starting to get more comfortable, taking pleasure in watching him, in making him feel good. You found the nerve to press the pad of your thumb against the tip, feeling the moisture leaking from him.
"Good girl," he praised, his voice low and husky.
You felt a wave of pride, knowing that you were pleasing him, that he liked the way you were touching him. You continued to stroke him, squeezing and pulling at his cock, watching his face, seeing the pleasure on his features.
He groaned, his eyes closing and his head tilting back, his breath catching. You could feel his cock throbbing in your hand, and you knew that he was getting close.
He let out a low growl and grabbed your wrist, halting your movements. "If you keep that up, I'm going to spill my seed all over this pretty little dress of yours," he said, his eyes full of heat.
"Is that so, my lord?" You asked, unable to hide the hint of amusement in your voice.
He grabbed your hips and pulled you under him, his body caging you, trapping you beneath him. He was breathing hard, his face flushed, his cock hard and resting on your stomach. His eyes burned into yours, his gaze intense, his hands gripping your hips, holding you steady.
You weren't talking back anymore, he could see the fear in your eyes, the hesitance, and that only made him want you more. His hand went to your throat, applying gentle pressure, a silent warning.
He could feel you trembling beneath him, and he tightened his grip, a primal, possessive urge rising within him. Your small hands pushing into his chest, clutching at his heated flesh.
"Open for me," he growled, his eyes fixed on yours.
You parted your thighs, allowing him to press closer to you. He growled, lifting your legs and wrapping them around his waist, his cock brushing against your cunt. He felt you tighten, your eyes widening with trepidation.
He chuckled, loving how terrified and eager you were at the same time. He gave you a moment, and then he slowly pushed into you. You whimpered, your nails digging into his back, your eyes closed, your face twisted in pain.
"Breathe," he said, rubbing his thumb against your cheek, "it will hurt for a just moment and then I will make you feel good,"
You nodded, taking a deep breath as you felt his cock hit your maidenhead.
"Are you ready, little northerner?" He whispered.
You gripped his forearms and nodded.
He pushed in slowly, breaking through your barrier. You cried out, the pain was intense and immediate. He groaned, the feel of your tight cunt was intoxicating.
He stayed still, giving you time to adjust. Your nails dug into his arms, leaving deep scratches in his flesh.
"Such a pretty, tight little cunt," he growled, nipping at your neck.
You kept your eyes closed, trying to focus on his words and not the pain. He began to move with slow, deep strokes, his cock stretching you, filling you. He was bigger than he felt in your hands, and you swore you could feel him everywhere.
He moaned, his hips rocking into you, his hand still on your throat, making you feel lightheaded. You looked up at him with wide eyes, your lips parted, your cheeks flushed. You felt so full of him, stretched open, the pain and pleasure mixing into one.
He watched your reaction with a smirk, amused by your shocked, satisfied expression. He was moving slowly, enjoying your warmth and the feel of your cunt clenching around him. He knew you were enjoying it, too, your eyes half-closed, a soft moan escaping your lip. Your small frame was arched to his body, your hands holding on to his neck.
You were surprised at his gentleness. You'd heard that the dragon prince liked to rough up women, but he was being as careful as if you were made of spun sugar. You felt so small and helpless underneath him, his large body nearly engulfing yours, and yet he wasn't hurting you. His touch was delicate, reverent. The way he spoke to you, calling you pet names, made your heart skip a beat.
You arched against him, a soft cry leaving your lips as his strokes got faster, deeper, hitting a place inside you that sent a sharp, hot pleasure through you.
"Does my little northerner like her prince's cock?" He said, a laugh in his voice, he began to pick up the pace, pounding into you.
You squeaked and pushed on his chest, the sensations becoming too much. He grabbed your hips and held you still, fucking you hard and fast, his eyes full of fire.
You felt your release rising up inside you, the tension in your body winding tighter and tighter. You could feel yourself clamping down on his cock, the pleasure almost too much, the sweet pain sending you over the edge.
He groaned at the sight of you coming undone, your breath coming in short, sharp gasps as you shattered around him. He could feel the tension in your muscles as your climax tore through you. He slowed his movements, easing out the last waves of pleasure, drawing it out until you were a shuddering, moaning mess.
He was close behind, his thrusts erratic, his breathing harsh. He pulled out and spilled his seed across your stomach, his hips bucking. He pressed his forehead against yours, his eyes closed, a contented sigh leaving his lips. At least he had one victory today.
Your face was hot with shame, your mind unable to comprehend what just happened. The prince's seed was cooling on your stomach and chest, the reality of the situation finally sinking in. Your hands went to your face, covering it as tears came to your eyes, you had never felt so good and so embarrassed at once.
He moved off of you, his eyes locked on yours, a smirk crossing his lips. He looked satisfied, his gaze wandering over your body, lingering on the wetness between your legs, the mess he'd made of you. He tossed you a cloth to clean yourself with. You wiped his seed off your skin, watching him dress, his blonde hair still braided back, his purple eyes full of lust and desire. He was a warrior, a dragon, he was beauty and strength, power and masculinity. He was everything you wanted and feared, a beast who could destroy you.
He gave you a side glance, his eyes full of amusement. "You may go," he said, shooing you away with a hand.
Your cheeks flushed with embarrassment, as you took a shaky breath. You stood up, gathering the pieces of your dress and your underclothes. Your legs were wobbly, and you felt weak, sore, and full of shame.
"Yes, my prince," you said quietly, looking at the floor, unable to meet his eyes.
He chuckled, the sound of his voice making you shiver. "Don't be so timid, little northerner. This is the beginning, not the end," he said, his words sending a jolt of fear and excitement through you.
He was right, this was only the beginning. You were his servant, and he could do with you as he pleased. He would have you come to him whenever he chose, on the warmest summer nights and the coldest winter days. He would take what he wanted, when he wanted.
He was a dragon, and his will was as strong as his blood.
And deep down, you knew you would enjoy it. He was the perfect thing to distract you from the mundanity of your life, the endless monotony of serving others.
Perhaps the Red Keep wouldn't be so terrible, not if it meant serving him.
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stervrucht · 4 months
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[AO3]
David Bowie plays on the radio and Steve drums his fingers along the steering wheel of his car as he contemplates. He is truly too good for this world. Now he is running errands for Dustin like some common soccer mom. The kid only had to give him one pout – one! – and Steve felt all his resistance crumbling. So, there he is on a Friday evening, seated in his still-running car in a Hawkin’s trailer park.
He stops his car in front of Eddie’s trailer and listens to the music as he gathers the willpower to leave the car.
Laughed at his long black hair, his animal grace, Bowie sings on the radio. 
How fitting
Outside, dusk is setting in and the world colors purple. Closing up Family Video had taken longer than he anticipated due to a difficult customer who couldn’t decide between The Thing and The Nightmare on Elm Street and had asked Steve extensive questions to make up his mind. 
Steve used to be fine with horror movies, but given recent developments (give or take his life the past few years), he isn’t into horror anymore. Out of the two, The Thing is probably the worst offender. Those crazy fleshy monsters hit a bit too close to home. Although, Freddie Krueger does have some vague Vecna vibes to him.
Steve is so lost in thought he doesn't notice the door of the trailer open until Eddie knocks on his window with his knuckle. With a jolt, Steve turns to roll his car window down. Once it is fully open, Eddie leans forward, his arms resting on the car.
“Sup Harrington.” Eddie’s hair falls forward and the low-cut tank top reveals his chest, framed by the silver chain of a guitar-pick necklace. 
Shaved, Steve notes.  Then, realizing he is staring, he tears his eyes away, coming face to face with Eddie Munson who gives him an amused look.
“Oh uh, right” – Steve coughs nervously – “Dustin asked me to give you this…” he unbuckles his seatbelt and leans over to the passenger seat where he grabs the cardboard box of some nerdy game.
“Here–” He hands the box to Eddie’s outstretched hands.
“Hell yeah, Talisman. Took Henderson long enough.” Eddie pushes himself away from the car and inspects the box for a moment. When he turns back to Steve, his eyes move towards the car radio.
“I didn’t take you for a Bowie fan.”
“Oh, I’m not really … Robin must have left it in. It’s … alright, I suppose.” 
“And what type of music does Steve find more than alright?” 
Eddie flashes him a cheeky smile and Steve finds himself somewhat intimidated. Whatever his answer, someone like Eddie will probably find it lame. Steve isn’t all that passionate about music anyway and mostly listens to whatever is on the radio.
“Maybe Queen, The Bee Gees…” he lists in no particular order.
Eddie tuts. “Such a proper boy.”
Although he expects it, Steve still winces.
“I should introduce you to some real music,” Eddie says thoughtfully, then – “Wanna come in?”
Steve takes a moment to think. His parents are out, so it isn’t like he’s expected at home. He has nothing to do tonight except watch some movies (perks of the job). Although the prospect of hanging out with Eddie doesn’t thrill him, it might be the more interesting option.
“Sure,” Steve turns his car off, rolls the window back up and opens the car door. Eddie takes a step back, giving Steve some room to get out. 
Eddie’s eyes move to his chest and Steve realizes he is still wearing the stupid Family Video vest. He quickly takes it off, crumples it and unceremoniously throws it in his car before shutting the door again. With a quick turn of his key, the car is locked.
Steve follows Eddie towards the trailer. It is a warm summer’s night and the shadows of the trees grow long under the purple sky. The trailer park is surrounded by ample woods and fields from which the sound of crickets flares up.
“You coming?” Eddie waits for him at the door. Steve doesn’t realize he stopped moving and quickly makes his way to where Eddie is standing.
“After you, King Steve,” Eddie says, holding open the door with a dramatic bow.
Damn, Eddie is kind of annoying, isn’t he? No wonder Dustin gets on so well with him. Two peas in a pod. Steve lets out an unamused scoff.
Once inside, Steve stands in the middle of the…living room? Kitchen? He isn’t sure what to call such multifunctional rooms. He crosses his arms and shifts his weight from one leg to the other as he waits for Eddie to put the game away.
The main room is crowded and messy. It is the complete opposite of his parents’ living room, which is kept meticulously clean and organized – with the help of their cleaning lady of course. The coffee table is stained with water circles from mugs and the like. Something unthinkable to Steve. If he ever puts a glass down without a coaster, he will face his mother’s wrath.
“Beer?” Eddie calls from the kitchen. He already turned his back to him to make his way to the under-table fridge.
“Sure.” 
Steve is getting sick of standing around and decides to move to the small beige sofa. It is littered with clothes and after a moment of hesitation, he shoves them aside and sits down.
“You’re fucking tense,” Eddie says as he hands Steve a can of beer. He looks down at the pile of clothes and without hesitation grabs them and throws them in a different corner of the room. Then he lets himself fall onto the sofa next to Steve, which objects with a loud creak.
The sofa really is quite small and granted, a bigger one probably wouldn’t fit. The middle of it sagged considerably too, dragging its occupants to the center.
Steve feels the warmth of Eddie’s jeans-clad legs against his own. They are probably sitting a bit too close and Steve shifts uncomfortably in his seat. 
The can lets out an audible hiss as Eddie opens it and takes a quick sip from his beer. Then, he puts it down on the table and jumps up again.
“Fuck, I was gonna play you some music.” He hurries past the kitchen into a separate room. 
Steve opens his own can – cheap store-brand beer – and takes a nervous gulp as he waits for Eddie to return.
He is starting to reconsider his choices this evening. Perhaps he should just have watched Back to the Future again. Instead, he is in the trailer of some guy he kinda-sorta knows because they have shared custody of some annoying kid (one of Steve’s best friends).
“Oh yes, this will be good.” Eddie re-emerges cradling a few cassettes in his arms like he is holding a baby. He squats in front of the coffee table and releases the collection of plastic cases on top of it. Steve eyes the contents, but he recognises none of it. Then he looks over at Eddie – the flesh of his knee peeks through the hole of his jeans and Steve wonders if Eddie made it himself or if it had naturally torn by use. 
Eddie shifts through the cassettes with ring-clad fingers, picking a few up and turning them around to look at the back of the plastic cases.
“Let’s start with Rainbow,” he mumbles to himself, grabbing the cassette (a hand holding a rainbow over mountains on its front). He walks over to a small side table next to the front door where an old-school cassette player stands.
With a loud click, the front of the cassette player opens and Eddie puts the cassette in and closes it again. Immediately, music starts playing.
“Fuck, hold on.”
Eddie rushes over to the kitchen, rummaging through some drawers until he finds what he is looking for.
Victoriously, he holds up a pencil to Steve and clicks his tongue. Steve takes another gulp of his beer as he watches Eddie move through the trailer with a skip in his step. He is actually excited to let Steve hear his music. Steve feels strangely flattered and he lets himself fall back on the sofa. 
The music stops and Eddie takes the cassette out. Using the back of the pencil, he rewinds the tape. Steve looks at Eddie’s hands as he works. The rings are kinda cool. Maybe he should let Robin pick out a ring for him too. Although perhaps not with skulls and crosses like Eddie wears. Maybe something more simple, like a signet ring or something.
Steve is pulled from his thoughts when he hears the cassette player click shut again. 
“Your player doesn’t rewind?” Steve asks.
“Steve” – Eddie puts the pencil behind his ear and turns to look at him – “I live in a trailer…”
Steve feels heat rise to his cheeks. 
Shit, sometimes he forgets his parents are very well off and some things are considered luxuries instead of the default. He made the same mistake with Robin too – multiple times – but it was hard to prevent. He thinks back on his car – not particularly expensive, but also not as beat-up as Jonathan’s. Does Eddie think he is some spoiled rich boy?
“Right, sorry.” Steve takes another mouthful of beer. Eddie turns around again to put the cassette in the cassette player. 
A song begins to play, the sound reminds Steve of something alien – not really like music at all. Once the drums kicks in Eddie begins to bob his head on the beat, his hands hitting an invisible drum. He dances across the room, drumming his invisible drumsticks along the wall before falling back onto the sofa, stringing his fingers as if playing a guitar.
“Shit, I should really learn this on the guitar.” He leans forward to grab his can of beer. Condensation forms on the outside and when he picks it up, a wet circle is left on the table.
Eddie kicks his feet up, white sneakers hitting the wood of the coffee table and the cassettes rattle. He takes a deep swig of his beer and audibly sighs. 
Steve leans forward, arms resting on his thighs and can between his knees. Once the music actually began, it wasn’t too bad. He didn’t understand the long intros though, and preferred it if music would just start.
“So, what do you think?” Eddie asks.
“Not bad.”
“Not bad” – Eddie scoffs – “You, my friend, have not been exposed to nearly enough good music.”
Steve chuckles. “I thought Bowie was pretty acceptable by –” he looks Eddie up and down demonstratively, “ – your kind.”
“My kind, huh?” a smile plays at the corners of Eddie’s lips. “And what would that be, exactly?” 
Well, shit. Steve drove himself straight into possible-insult town. Eddie eyes him curiously, one elbow resting on the sofa’s backrest and his hands holding his can in a way Steve could only describe as cool. 
“Well, you know…” he trails off.
“I know…?”
“Eh, metalheads, I guess?”
“Ziggy Stardust isn’t metal, you know that right?”
Steve sighs exasperatedly. “I know, ugh. I mean he’s–”
“Weird?” Eddie finishes.
Steve takes another gulp of beer, desperate to compose himself. “Yeah,” he answers lamely.
“I suppose he’s pretty weird, huh?” Eddie eyes the ceiling of the trailer while taking a lazy sip from his beer. “Did you know he used to be gay?”
Steve looks to Eddie, who is still eying the ceiling, head lying back against the sofa’s backrest. 
“Used to be?” If Steve is to believe Robin, there is no ‘used to be ’ when it comes to being gay. You either are or you aren’t. Now he thinks about it, Bowie seems somewhat queer with his tight suits and styled hair, but that is what girls dig, isn't it? He has heard countless girls swoon over men just like that.
“You never had a gay phase, Harrington?” 
Steve nearly drops his can.
“Gay….phase?”
“You know, live a little, try some shit, see what sticks –”
“I can’t say I have,” Steve mumbles, his eyes now firmly fixed on the can in his hands. He plays nervously with the lip, pulling it in tandem with the music before taking another sip.
“With a pretty face like yours, you might actually get some good ones.”
Steve chokes on his beer. Actually chokes, and he hits his chest with a fist to get himself to breathe again.
“W-what?”
“How can you know what you like when you never tried it?” Eddie sits up straight, pulling one leg to his chest as he turns to Steve. His dark eyes seem like a bottomless lake and Steve feels small under his gaze.
“H-have you?” Steve stutters and it is utterly embarrassing. Why is he so rattled by some stupid revelation? 
Wait, did Eddie just call him pretty?
Eddie smirks at him like they are sharing in a secret, and perhaps they are.
“Fuck yes, if someone tells me not to do something you can bet your ass I will do it. Besides, humans are humans, big fucking deal.” 
“So – was it a phase? In your case?” Steve asks carefully. He isn’t really sure why he asks. Maybe it is part curiosity. He never seriously considered relationships with men. Some are nice enough to look at, sure, but marriage, a house, children – that is only meant for a man and a woman right? A world in which someone just casually tries homosexuality seems…foreign. 
“Hm, I guess so … Wow, don’t look at me like that Harrington. Are you disappointed?”
“W-what, no!” Steve really doesn’t know why he is getting so flustered. He suddenly feels self-conscious under Eddie’s piercing eyes and runs a hand through his hair – a nervous habit.
“Fuck, you are – well, alright, maybe for you I can arrange an encore.”
Before Steve has time to respond, Eddie pushes himself upright and leans one knee on the sofa between Steve’s legs. He feels the cold metal of Eddie’s rings under his chin as he lays a sprawled hand on his throat and tilts his head. 
Steve freezes, air caught in his chest as Eddie leans over his face, his breath hot on his lips. Steve’s right hand uselessly holds on to the near-empty can – afraid to spill it – while his left hand digs into the sofa next to his thighs. Then, Eddie leans down, capturing his lips with practiced ease. Steve feels his long hair tickle his cheeks and the scruff of a five-o-clock shadow grace his chin. 
Eddie’s lips move over his, slightly chapped and rough in a way that couldn’t possibly be a girl. Without meaning to, Steve feels his own lips move against Eddie’s. 
Well, now he couldn't pretend it was just something happening to him. He had graduated to an active participant. 
Kissing Eddie Munson. Eddie freaking Munson.  
Robin was going to have a field day.
Perhaps the most surprising part is how he doesn’t hate it. He likes the feeling of stubble on his chin, the hard corners of Eddie’s jaw, the way Eddie pushes him back onto the sofa and he wills Steve’s mouth open with a sweep of a thumb and the cold metal of rings on his face. A hot tongue explores his mouth, stroking it against Steve’s in a way that makes him gasp.
Steve has never experienced anything like it. Usually with the girls he dated, he took the lead. Kisses were usually shy and timid. Eddie is completely different. He knows what he wants and he isn’t afraid to get it. Steve feels something stir in him as he presses back.
Eddie bites his bottom lip, taking it between his lips, and breaks away from him. Steve feels breathless and blinks up at Eddie. His hand reaches over to Steve’s right side, gently taking the can from his hand and setting it away on the coffee table. He turns back, eyes dark and Steve wills his mouth close as he regards him. 
Was he gay? Shit, he doesn’t really want to think about it now. Humans are humans was what Eddie had said right?
Steve reaches out, sliding his hands behind Eddie’s neck, and pulls him back. Eddie moves himself into a more comfortable position, placing a knee on either side of Steve’s thighs and straddling him. Eddie’s hands reach for Steve’s temples, threading themselves through Steve’s hair – rings catch on the strands but Steve doesn’t mind the painful sting as it pulls. He just wants to get Eddie’s lips back on his – and so he does.
Their lips meet, fiery and hot. Open-mouthed Steve explores every corner of Eddie. He lowers his hands to Eddie’s back, playing on the edge of his tanktop and the hot skin underneath. If it works for girls, surely it works for guys too right?
He runs his hands up the side of Eddie’s chest, a thumb over a nipple, and Eddie gasps into his mouth. Steve feels heat settle in his crotch and he is glad he chose to wear jeans made of thick fabric rather than thin trousers. Steve’s hands move over Eddie’s chest, feeling the smooth muscle of it and the roughness of regrowing chest hair.
Eddie’s fingers reach the hair on the back of Steve’s head and yank it back, exposing Steve’s throat. He lets out a surprised yelp when he feels Eddie’s mouth latch to the delicate bow of his neck and suck. 
Steve is learning a lot about himself in the span of less than an hour. The way Eddie tugs his hair, and has his way with him is sending a pleasant jolt straight to his cock.  And Steve can’t help but moan under the ministrations of Eddie’s mouth as he sucks and bites. 
“Y-you’re gonna leave a mark,” Steve breathes.
“That’s the plan,” Eddie mouths against his neck. Then, he licks his way up into Steve’s mouth again.
Shit, he is kinda into this. Steve isn’t sure how he could ever go back to girls now he knows what it feels like to be touched by calloused fingers and kissed with such force. 
Eddie’s hand leaves his hair and travels down to the rim of his jeans, pulling out his shirt in the process. Steve feels the ghost of fingers running along its edge and the muscles in his stomach tense pleasantly in response.
Eddie breaks away from him, his breath ghosting over his lips as he searches Steve’s eyes. 
“You wanna take this further?” Eddie asks, his eyes flitting over Steve’s face.
Steve feels drunk, even though half a can of beer isn’t nearly enough to even get him close to being buzzed. He is also turned on. Ridiculously so. But fuck, what does taking it further even mean in this context. Steve feels like a virgin all over again and shifts uncomfortably in his seat, trying to hide his arousal from Eddie.
Not that they are not actively engaged anymore, anxiety hits Steve like a bag of bricks.
“Uhh…” is all Steve manages to utter.
Eddie throws himself off Steve’s lap onto the empty spot next to him on the sofa. He puts his feet on the table again, hands behind his head.
“You’re right, maybe that’s enough for tonight.” 
It doesn’t escape Steve that Eddie’s jeans look a little tighter than usual.
They sit in silence for a moment, only the voice of Rainbow’s singer cutting through the tension. 
“I thought you said it was a phase,” Steve asks after he finally gets his breathing under control.
“Oh right, I should have clarified” – Eddie grins up at the ceiling – “The gay thing was a phase. I figured I was into both.”
Both? Wasn’t that something only hippies preached with their free love? Somewhere, Steve feels a wave of relief washes over him. He never seriously considered someone could like both. He has some serious soul-searching to do once he gets home.
“Huh,” is all Steve replies. Eddie’s eyebrow quirks in interest as he side-eyes Steve.
“I, uh…probably should get going.” Steve puts his hands on his thighs and pushes himself up. Eddie doesn’t move from his position, but his eyes follow him with interest.
“If you’re ever in the mood for a sequel, you know where to find me.” 
Steve nods, because what else can you do in reply to such a comment? He is baffled at the ease with which the words escape Eddie. There is no shame or self-doubt.
As he lays his hand on the door handle, Steve looks back one final time. Eddie’s feet are bouncing in tandem with the beat of the drums and his eyes are closed. He looks so absolutely unshaken by their encounter that Steve feels almost jealous.
Steve is anything but unshaken.
“See you around,” he offers.
“See you, Harrington,” Eddie’s voice is playful, even though he doesn’t move.
When Steve is safe and sound in the driver’s seat of his car, he leans his head against the steering wheel and stays there for a moment. 
What the hell just happened?
He turns his mirror to his neck and traces the hickey that Eddie left on his throat with a finger. He would have to ask Robin for some make-up to cover that up. 
She is going to love this story.
Steve sighs and pushes the mirror back into its original position. When he starts the car, Bowie continues to sing like nothing happened.
Yes, he was alright, his song went on forever, Bowie sings and Steve groans as he hits the gas.
***
It is Saturday morning when Steve walks up to the Buckley residence. He passes the garden fence and walks around the house to the backdoor.
Hawkins was struck by the beginning of a heatwave and at this point, the temperature was bearable as long as one didn't move too much. The perfect day for a visit to the pool, but too hot for videos. 
Which is why Steve is sure today won’t be too busy at Family Video. Fine by him. 
The quiet days he works with Robin are always his favorite. Sometimes Henderson comes over – either with his friends or alone – and they mess around with the cardboard cut-outs or watch a movie on the little TV screen hanging from the ceiling. Steve has zero regrets about missing out on college. Everything he loves is right here in Hawkins.
He pulls at the red handkerchief around his neck. It is against company policy to wear scarves (and probably too hot too) but Steve needs something to cover up the damage of his little adventure with Eddie. At least, until he gets his hands on some skin paint stuff – or whatever girls call that type of make-up.
He enters through the backdoor straight into the kitchen, where he finds Robin’s mother clearing the table of breakfast plates. The room smells faintly like toast.
“Morning, Ms. Buckley!” he calls, already moving towards the hallway. Steve hears her respond, but he's halfway up the stairs by then.
“Rob!”
“Just a second!” Her voice is muffled. She opens her door, fixing an earring. Her eyes flick to his scarf before meeting his gaze.
“Geez, you’re early.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Steve walks straight past her and throws himself on her unmade bed.  Robin pays him no mind and she walks over to her dresser again. From his spot on the bed, Steve can see Robin's face reflected in the mirror as she fusses with her hair. When she reaches for a pouch, Steve is suddenly reminded of why he is early to begin with. 
“Do you have that face-stuff?” he asks as he sees Robin pull a pencil from the pouch.
“I’m afraid you’ll have to be more specific than ‘face stuff’.”
“You know, the skin-colored goo.” Steve makes motions over his face as if he’s painting.
“Concealer?” Robin’s mouth is open in concentration as she lines her waterline with black.
“That’s it!” Steve throws himself off the bed and walks over to Robin.
“Sure, I’ve got some,” Robin puts down her pencil and rummages through the pouch again. She pulls out a small beige bottle and holds it up for Steve. He reaches for it, but Robin pulls away.
“Does this have anything to do with your avant-garde fashion statement today?” She looks at his scarf again.
Steve laughs sheepishly and pulls his scarf aside. Robin’s eyes widen at the dark hickey on his neck.
“Jesus, Steve! It’s massive” – she leans in closer – “Was it Rebecca? Never thought she’d be the type...” Robin reaches for his neck but Steve pulls away.
“What? No!” – Steve lets go of the scarf – “I stopped seeing her like five weeks ago. Get with the times, Rob.”
“Well, sorry I can’t keep up with your busy love life.” Robin turns back to the mirror. She definitely isn’t sorry and Steve wouldn’t exactly call the origin of the hickey ‘love’. A lapse of judgment, maybe, or something uniquely in the corner of Eddie ‘the freak’ Munson. 
“Can I get the stuff now?”
“Fine,” she says and she pushes the bottle in his hands.
***
Outside the car, the world passes in a flash of yellow fields. The windows are down and the scent of drying grass fills the air. Steve turns the music up to drown out the thundering sound of the wind as it enters the car and drums his fingers on the steering wheel while he uselessly mouths along with the music. He doesn’t know the lyrics, but that can’t stop him. The fact it annoys Robin when he does so makes it even more fun in his opinion.
“You’re in a good mood,” Robin remarks while she digs through her bag.
“It’s a beautiful day and I’m working with my best friend,” Steve chirps.
“Uhuh, right,” she replies skeptically. She puts her bag back between her legs on the car floor and fiddles with something in her hands.
Steve’s eyes are focused on the road before him when the music suddenly stops.
“Hey! I was listening to that!”
“I thought you said Bowie was ‘overrated trash’” Robin says while opening the case to another cassette. 
“I didn’t,”
“You so did, and you called his pants too tight,”
“Whatever, driver decides,” 
Robin sighs and pushes the cassette back in. “When I get my license, it will be Blondie all day every day. You better prepare yourself, dingus!”
Steve hums in satisfaction as the music comes back on. Maybe he found it somewhat grating in the beginning, but it was growing on him now. That, of course, had nothing to do with Eddie Munson.
“Did you know he used to be gay?” Steve suddenly says.
“Bisexual, Steve, and of course I know that. The question is, why do you?” From his periphery, he can see Robin staring at him.
“I just heard it somewhere,”
“Somewhere…” Robin repeated. She leans over to put the other cassette back in her bag. 
Steve is relieved when he sees Family Video come into view. It’s not like Robin will forget their conversation, she is far too smart for that. And he really does plan on telling her about what happened yesterday, he just has to find the right moment. Hell, maybe it wouldn’t even be today. 
Steve pulls into the parking space and hops out of the car. He locks his door and throws the keys over the car to Robin. She fumbles in her attempt to catch it and Steve is once again reminded that Robin is a band dweeb and not an athlete.
“Let’s open this baby up,” he says as he tosses the store keys into the air and catches them overhand.
“You’re such a show-off” – she walks past Steve into the store and continues without looking back – “For your information, there are no girls around…”
“Yet,” Steve finishes and Robin groans in response.
There wouldn’t be any girls around for most of the day as it turned out. 
As Steve expected, it was a slow day. The only people who visited were those who probably wouldn’t be found dead sunbathing, nerds who never stepped outside (except to rent a video, apparently), and old people looking for something nice to watch with their grandkids. 
Somewhere between the shelves, Robin is putting returned VHS tapes into their rightful place. Meanwhile, Steve sorts through new arrivals and adds them to the computer system. In the back of the shop,  a guy has been staring at some science fiction movies for probably half an hour by now. Category basement nerd, Steve decides.
They had been working in relative solitude. Steve looks up as he hears the bell signal someone’s entrance. He is greeted with a curly head of hair.
“Henderson!” Steve stands up and throws himself over the counter. The secret handshake is a must and cannot be skipped. 
Shake, box, Star Wars sword thing, guts.
Dustin smiles wildly at him. 
Just as Steve is spilling his guts, the bell chimes again. He looks up, readying himself to apologize to the poor customer he has no doubt scared off with his wild gestures when he comes face to face with dark bottomless eyes.
“Munson,” Steve is probably gawking, at least a little and Eddie looks amused at the scene in front of him.
Dustin, oblivious to it all, immediately starts talking. 
“I was just about to grab my bike when I ran into Eddie. He offered me a ride in his van. Mom’s at the pool today, says it’s too hot to stay indoors; she practically kicked me out of the house,”
“Right,” Steve wasn’t even looking at Dustin as he yapped on. He somehow couldn’t tear his eyes away from Eddie’s. It was strange seeing him in daylight now. The darkness of dusk had made their whole interaction the night prior seem like a dream. Now, face to face with Eddie, Steve was hit by the reality of what had transpired. He felt profoundly awkward.
“ – You should totally get a van, Steve!” Dustin’s voice pulls Steve from his thoughts and he tears his eyes away.
“Y-yeah, probably not. I like my car,” he composed himself, deciding to focus his attention on Dustin rather than Eddie.
“Hey Dustin”  – Robin walks from behind the shelves, carrying a now-empty crate. Her eyes land on Eddie with a hint of surprise – “Hey Eddie,”
“Got anything good yet?” Dustin asks Robin eagerly.
“You’re in luck–” Robin says as she puts the crate away, “We just added The Dark Crystal to our collection,”
“Sweet!” He hears Dustin call when Robin leads him away to one of the shelves in the back.
Steve is left alone with Eddie and doesn’t know how to compose himself. A part of him feels nervous under Eddie’s dark gaze. 
Eddie walks over to the counter and leans against it.
“Cool gig,” Eddie says as he looks around the store. “Do you ever get to keep the cardboard cut-outs?” Eddie points his finger at a life-size cut-out of Indiana Jones that stands proudly at the front of the store. Steve’s eyes involuntary drift back to his fingers again and he really ought to stop that. Sooner or later, Eddie will catch him staring.
“I don’t, but Keith does sometimes,” 
“Sweet,”
A silence falls between them and Eddie kicks his feet. The guy in the back still hasn’t made up his mind and a little distance away Dustin is eagerly explaining something about the ‘Gelflings’ to Robin.
“Hey, uh, are you doing anything next Friday?” Eddie asks suddenly. 
“Nothing yet,” Steve is desperately trying to stop his heart from beating at such an insistent pace and he hopes his voice comes out as nonchalant as he intends it to.
“You wanna…I don’t know…hang out or something?”
‘ Or something’. What does ‘or something’ mean ?
“Yeah, I– …yeah, sure” Steve fumbles a bit, but Eddie doesn’t seem to notice, or maybe he doesn’t care. A smile grows on his face.
“Cool,” Eddie says.
He pushes himself away from the counter and walks up to a shelf to inspect some of the movies. He leans forward, shifting his weight to the balls of his feet, and hums a song that sounds vaguely familiar. Steve stares at the interlaced fingers behind his back – adorned with silver rings – and shivers at the memory of their coolness against his neck.
“Cool,” Steve echoes.
***
The whole week, Steve had thought of countless excuses to cancel hanging out with Eddie on Friday, but in the end, none of them carried any weight. He couldn’t get Eddie of his freaking mind and the sappy romance movies that played on the television screen at work didn’t help either.
Eddie had visited Family Video again – once – with Dustin to return a movie. Apparently, they regularly hung out when Steve was busy at work and he felt something akin to jealousy. He had always been Dustin’s role model. Heck, the kid even started wearing his hair like him (thank you, Farrah Fawcett). That was until Eddie somehow inserted himself into the equation. Now, Dustin had grown out his hair and was wearing that ridiculous Hellfire shirt religiously; so often, Steve sometimes wondered if it was ever washed at all. 
Eddie had corrupted him, and maybe he had corrupted Steve a little bit as well.
“You seem nervous,” Robin remarks as she flips through a folder, biting in the back of a ballpen. 
“Well, I’m no–” Before Steve can finish his sentence, Robin continues.
“I haven’t heard you talk about your dates the whole week. Whoever gave you that ridiculous hickey has some serious hold over you –”
Steve feels his shoulders tense. The idea of Eddie having any kind of hold over him was crazy. Steve is cool, Steve is casual. Steve is definitely not nervous about his casual hangout with Eddie tonight.
“ –It’s Friday, aren’t you supposed to be on like three different dates tonight?” she continues.
“Uhm, well–”
“And you’ve been acting weird all week. Things are adding up to a very weird sum. The ‘buying thirty watermelons’ kind of weird sum.”
“You have such a way with words,” Steve rolls his eyes as he finally regains his composure.
“Steve!” Robin throws her pen at his head. He ducks, but the pen hits him anyway.
“Robin!” he mimics her tone.
“It’s someone’s mom, isn’t it? God, Steve–” Robin pulls a face in disgust.
“It’s not someone’s mom! Geez, Rob, what kind of person do you take me for?”
“The kind that acts all mysterious and weird, and suddenly listens to music he hates!”
Maybe going out of his way to buy a Rainbow cassette had been somewhat uncharacteristic. Of course, Robin would pick up on that.
“A guy can expand his tastes…” he trails, hit by the ambiguity of his statement.
Robin sighs, picks up her pen from the floor and gives him an irritated glance. 
Steve hears the bell chime just as he closes the door to the vault in which they store cash overnight. It is only a couple of minutes before closing time and Steve grunts audibly as he raises himself into a standing position. Entering a shop this close to closing time is a certified dick move and Steve is not above sending whoever entered away, customer service be damned. 
“We’re closed!” he yells as he walks back into the shop from the backroom. 
“Eddie’s here for you,” Robin calls without looking back at Steve. 
Sure enough, Eddie is standing at the counter. He is wearing a tank top and his hair is pulled up into a messy bun; his skin gleams with sweat from the heat outside and around his neck hangs a wiry set of headphones. Wind from the air conditioner pulls at his hair. When their eyes meet, a smile creeps on his face.
“Sup, Harrington…I’ve brought the van.” He holds the keys up demonstratively, dangling them from his index finger.
"He brought the van!" Robin exclaims looking back at Steve, her eyebrows raised and a sly smile playing on her lips. Steve can almost see the moment of realization dawn upon her as if a lightbulb had been switched on in her mind.
Steve scratches the back of his head. “I promised Robin a ride back–” 
“No problem, We’ll drop her off. I’ll bring you back to pick up your car later.” 
Steve casts Robin a quick glance and she shrugs in response.
“If Robin’s fine with it…” he trails.
“A van,” Robin whispers as Steve joins her at the counter and elbows him in his arm.
Steve rolls his eyes at her, but still can’t fight the smile that tugs at the corners of his mouth.
***
Twigs crack under Steve’s shoes as he follows Eddie through the forest. The canopy of the trees offers ample shadow and Steve finds the heat more bearable here than when they had been walking alongside the road. Still, his shirt clings to his back and sweat is slicking his hair as Steve runs a hand through it. 
When Eddie asked him to hang out, he didn’t expect they would be hiking through the forest behind the trailer park during a freaking heatwave. 
He looks over to Eddie. His bangs cling to his forehead and the veins on his arms are thick as his body fights to keep cool. Despite the oppressive heat, there's a glint of excitement in Eddie's eyes.
“There it is.” Eddie stops and looks somewhere in the distance. Steve squints and follows Eddie’s gaze. Between the trees, he can see the shimmer of water, and he realizes Eddie has taken them to Lover’s lake. 
When they near the water, Eddie ups his pace, stepping around some of the bigger rocks and boulders near the lake’s edge like he has done it a thousand times before. Steve tries to keep up, but his unfamiliarity with the landscape slows him down.
At last, he is standing on the pebbled lakeside. The sun is already lowering itself into the embrace of dusk and Steve thinks they have maybe two hours of light left before sundown. He looks to his right where he sees Eddie standing above a pile of wood. When he gets closer, Steve realizes it is actually an old stranded fisher’s boat.
“Pretty cool, huh?” Eddie remarks.
Steve looks the boat over. It’s medium sized and some of its wood has rotted away. A good portion of it is covered in graffiti, and half of it sits in the water. It has probably been there for years.
“You bring all your conquests here?” Steve asks as he watches Eddie climb onto the boat. The question is mostly meant to be lighthearted, yet he feels a sense of anticipation as he waits for Eddie to reach the deck. 
Eddie squats and looks down on him. “Nah, just you.” 
Somehow, those words make Steve’s heart flutter and his cheeks heat up. He quickly looks away, pretending to search for footing to scale the boat.
When Steve reaches the deck, Eddie is sitting cross-legged facing the lake. 
“This is a nice place,” Steve says, sitting next to Eddie. He lets his feet dangle from the side and follows Eddie’s gaze. Across the lake, some people linger, cooling down before heading back to their hot homes. Some children are playing in the shallows and their joyful screams carry over the water.
“Your work?” Steve asks as he gestures to some of the writing on the boat. The wood is covered in crude phrases, names, and dates – some of them are carved, but most look to be written with a sharpie.
“Some of it is.” Eddie pulls out a pocket knife from his jeans and hands it to Steve. “You can add to it if you want.”
Steve turns the knife in his hand. It is a classic red Swiss knife and it lays heavy in his hand. 
“Here–” Eddie twists around and Steve follows suit. Eddie’s fingers are tracing the wood behind them, running them over the carvings in the wood. “– I think I did this about a year ago.”
Eddie removes his hands and Steve can finally get a good look. It’s nothing crazy, just a simple ‘Eddie was here’ carved in crude scratches – eternalised in some rotting wood in a town no one cares about.
Eddie holds up his hand to Steve and he realizes he is asking for his knife back. Steve hands it over.
Eddie flips out the knife and bends himself over the carving. Steve turns back around, looking over the lake again as the sound of scratching fills his ears.
“All done!” Eddie says after a while.
When Steve turns back, he sees his name freshly carved into the wood, right above Eddie’s original carving.
Steve + Eddie was here
“You wanted to immortalize this?” Steve asks amused.
Eddie flips the knife closed again and shoves it into his pocket. “A year ago, I’d never thought I’d be sitting here with Steve ‘the hair’ Harrington. Guess that’s pretty fucking special.” Eddie casts him a toothy grin. 
Steve had to agree though. If someone had told him a year ago he would be hanging out with Eddie ‘the freak’ Munson on a Friday evening – rather than spend his night on a date or at a party – he would have declared them crazy.
“I suppose so,” Steve replies.
All is quiet for a moment, save the sound of leaves rustling by a welcome breeze. Steve closes his eyes as the wind kisses his sweaty skin.
“I got you something,” Eddie says, breaking the silence and he stands up. Steve’s gaze follows him and his eyes widen when he sees Eddie move his hands over his head to pull his tank top off. 
“But let's take a dip first…it’s hot as balls.” He throws the sweaty tank top at Steve, who slaps it out of the air before it can hit him. The fabric lands heavily on the wooden deck.
“I didn’t bring my trunks,” 
“You don’t need those here.” Eddie gives him a knowing smile as he kicks on his shoes.
Eddie is lean and he has a nice back, Steve thinks. Not particularly broad like some of his former teammates on the swimming team, but not bad for a guy who spends his time playing board games. His torso is littered with fading scars from the Upside Down and Steve has a fair amount of those himself.
“Get on with it, Harrington!” Eddie is already stripped to his underwear when Steve tears his eyes away and finally tugs his own shirt over his head.
A dip in the lake was a fantastic idea and Steve felt himself relax now that he was slowly but surely cooling down to more humane temperatures.
Steve tries to keep his eyes away from Eddie as they make their way back to the boat. The fabric of his boxers is clinging to his skin.
Eddie lays himself down on the deck, using his jeans as a pillow while he fiddles with his headphones. 
“C’mere Steve.” Eddie pats the space next to him and Steve reluctantly seats himself. Eddie is working the buttons of a walkman.
“Remember when I said I got you something?”
“That was like twenty minutes ago,” Steve feels borderline offended at the implication.
Eddie gestures for Steve to lay down as well and Steve complies begrudgingly, resting his head next to Eddie’s on his crumpled jeans while he stares up at the blue sky. He feels exposed in just his boxers and now Eddie wants them to lay side by side.
“Here.” Eddie hands him one half of the headphones while holding the other side to his own ears. Suddenly it dawns on Steve why they’re lying as they are. Eddie wants to let him listen to music. Steve moves half of the headphones to his ear and sure enough music starts playing.
“I put some things together I thought you might like.” Steve can see Eddie turn his head towards him from his periphery and study his face.
“You made me a mixtape?” Steve asks. The idea of Eddie putting together a mixtape for him was…well, really thoughtful.
“Now you say it out loud it sounds kinda lame,” Eddie laughs.
“No, it– it’s really nice.” Steve offers. 
He closes his eyes and listens to the unfamiliar tunes. Eddie did quite a good job at picking music that he might like. It is definitely less intense than Rainbow – the voices are less shrill, the guitar less cutting, and the drums beat at a lower frequency. It’s nice, ridiculously nice, and Steve can’t think of an instance when someone has ever taken the time to put something together for him like this – not even his ex-girlfriends.
They lay there for a while, each holding one end of the headphone. The people on the other side of the lake must have left by now because the only things Steve can hear are birdsong, the sound of rustling leaves, and the music that comes from the walkman. The breeze feels cool against his damp body, and he wonders why he had never done this before – stay at the lake until the sun went down.
Steve can almost feel himself drift asleep when Eddie nudges him.
“Steve.” Eddie shakes him gently by his shoulder.
“Hm, lemme be…” he whines without opening his eyes.
“You’re gonna be mosquito food.” Beside him, he hears Eddie getting up and when Steve finally opens his eyes, Eddie is already wearing his tank top. 
Steve hadn’t realized how long they had laid there. Only a small line of sun was visible in the distance and Eddie’s figure was dark against the pastel sky.
“I’m afraid I’m gonna need my pants,” Eddie says as he points at Steve’s head.
“Oh right.” Steve finally sits up, handing Eddie the makeshift pillow of his jeans.
Once they’re both dressed, Eddie leads them back through the forest. The sky is pink and the trees form black outlines against it. Steve walks after Eddie, who points out when to be mindful of a hidden boulder or a sudden dip in the forest floor. 
They take Eddie’s van back to Family Video so Steve can get his car. The whole car ride, Steve can’t help the feeling of nervousness that sits in his stomach. 
Today kinda felt like a date. 
Normally he would be on the other end of it – driving a girl home after a movie or something. And then, once he stops the car in front of her house, the girl would fidget and Steve would place his arm on the back of her car seat, confident and reassuring. He would tell her he had a good time and if she did as well, he would seal the deal with a kiss.
But this was Eddie, and they had been just two guys hanging out. 
Two guys that had made out a week ago. 
But that didn’t mean anything. It had just been Steve’s one-day gay phase and he got it out of his system now, hadn’t he? Eddie had only offered out of a misunderstanding, or maybe some weird kindness.
Shit, this train of thought was not helping Steve whatsoever. If anything, it had just made the nervous flutter in his stomach worse.
Eddie stops the van and the red neon light of Family Video plays with the curves of his face.
“There we are.” Eddie pushes himself back into his seat with his arms stretched on the steering wheel. Steve makes no movement to get out. They sit in silence for a while.
“About last week–” Steve starts. If he doesn’t acknowledge it now, he feels like he might go crazy. Besides, he doesn’t know when or if they’ll have another moment alone.
“Don’t worry, I didn’t tell anyone. We can forget about it if you want…” Eddie says without looking at him. His shoulders are tense and his grip on the steering wheels seems to harden.
“No…it’s not–” Steve tries, but Eddie cuts him off.
“Don’t worry Steve, I get it. I know what people say about me –”
“But–”
“ –and it doesn’t have to mean anything. People make out all the time–”
Steve unbuckles his seatbelt. He’s kind of sick of Eddie not letting him finish his sentences and is ready to return the favor.
He leans over, turning Eddie’s head towards him and kisses him. Hard.
Eddie’s mouth is parted, mid-sentence, and Steve feels teeth beneath his lips. By all accounts, it’s a shoddy kiss – not his best work – but it seems to do the trick.
Eddie loses his grip on the steering wheel, hands moving to Steve’s shoulders instead as he eagerly returns the sentiment.
“Fuck, Harrington, aren’t you full of surprises,” Eddie breaths against his lips.
Steve leans back into his chair and runs a hand through his hair.
“You talk too much,” he says as he opens the door of the van.
By the time he hears Eddie get out of his van, Steve is already opening the door to his  BMW.
“Wait, Steve,” Eddie calls as he jogs over. When he’s standing in front of Steve, he pulls at Steve’s arm, running his hand down and urging Steve’s palm up. He shoves something square in his hand and closes Steve’s fingers around it.
“Next Friday, same time?” Eddie asks him, searching his eyes.
Steve nods silently. He stares after Eddie as he walks back to his van. He opens the door and turns one last time, giving Steve a two-fingered salute before getting in. 
Steve hears the sound of the motor swinging on and looks at his hand. In the dim neon light, he stares down at a small cassette. Steve can hardly read the black letters in the red light, but he realizes Eddie has written something on its white label.
From Freak, to Hair. 
[AO3]
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m0chaminx · 10 months
Text
Coriolanus Snow | Roses Grow Thorns
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*•.¸♡Request: Pls pls pls do a part 2 too the snow x reader fix it was so amazing and I want more of them 🙏🙏🙏🙏‼️‼️🩷
*•.¸♡Prompts: none
*•.¸♡Warnings: Coriolanus, Cori isn't insane (ish), Snow is slight ooc, jealousy, hurt comfort, fluff ending
*•.¸♡Paring: Coriolanus Snow x F!reader
*•.¸♡Summary: Coriolanus learns his favourite flower grows thorns
Or
You confront Coriolanus about his relationship with Lucy Gray
*•.¸♡Words: 2k
Part 1
People danced, swaying with their partners in a circle as you stood on stage, strumming your guitar and singing to the crowd. Lucy had just finished the first half of her set, so you took the stage to fill the silence. Coriolanus sat with Sejanus at a table across the room, large glasses of some sort of liquor. Coriolanus looked up at you and smiled.
If you like your coffee hot
Let me be your coffee pot
You call the shots, babe
I just wanna be yours
Your voice trailed off slightly as Lucy raced to Coriolanus and Sejanus, throwing her arm around his shoulder and leaning between them. You shook your head and continued to play, trying to ignore Lucy Gray practically hanging from Coriolanus’s arm.
Jealousy, an unwelcome guest, clawed at the edges of your heart, leaving an ache in your chest. No words had been exchanged, and no actions had passed between you two. It overtook the corners of your mind, urging you to believe that Lucy Gray should sense the unspoken connection threading its way between you and Coriolanus.
Each shared trip to the lake, every stolen moment when Coriolanus chose to spend his fleeting free hours with you — these fragments of time saved in your mind like photos in an old book. Yet, as you observed Lucy Gray standing there, a vision of radiant smiles and hushed confidences exchanged with Coriolanus, a wave of emotion surged. It was as if the world momentarily lost its colour, and the whispers of uncertainty left an indelible mark on your heart.
You clenched your hand, trying to ease the shaking in your hands.
Secrets I have held in my heart
Are harder to hide than I thought
Maybe I just wanna be yours
Every night for the past week following that evening, Coriolanus Snow would tap gently on the glass of your window. You would turn your head and he would smile, the same bright smile that made your stomach flip and fill with butterflies. You crept across the wood floors and opened the window, looking down at the blue-eyed boy. “Are you busy?”
You would simply laugh at him. You grabbed your coat and slipped out the window, Coriolanus gripping your waist to help you down properly. He would smile, slip a scarf under the window to close it without locking it and you would slip away unnoticed, descending into the velvety embrace of the night.
In those quiet moments, Coriolanus would slip your hand in his own, his warm hand covering yours as he laced your fingers together. He guided you through the dense labyrinth of woods, you knew these woods better than he did but through the nights as he led you to the lake, you questioned if you ever knew them at all. 
The Mokingjays sang into the night as if calling to the small fireflies to light the way. “I brought matches,” Cori said, looking back at you. He tugged on your hand bringing you closer and you couldn't help but think about Lucy Gray running her hand along his shoulders. “We can light a fire. Maybe catch some fish.” You nodded and Coriolanus smiled.
You reached the lake and Coriolanus set his bag down, quickly gathering everything to start a fire. You walked to the edge of the water, your mind running faster than you could even start to comprehend. “Think we’ll catch anything?” He asked, stopping to look up at you.
You looked back over the water, looking at the fish no bigger than your palm swimming just above the sea floor. You shook your head, keeping your eyes on the moonlight dancing on the waves of the water. “Nothing big enough to eat,” You said. Coriolanus nodded and turned back to the fire.
Once the fire was made you sat on the ground beside him, leaving enough space so your shoulders didn’t touch. You both sat in silence, Coriolanus’s knee bouncing softly. 
The flames danced and flickered, the golden glow flickering in Coriolanus’s blue eyes, you settled onto the ground beside him. You shifted slightly, making sure your shoulders didn't touch. The silence stretched between you, Coriolanus's fingers drumming against a stick he held in nervousness.
Coriolanus's knee bounced softly, mirroring the unsteady rhythm of both your hearts. The mere inches that separated you felt like an unbridgeable chasm, as long and confusing as his thoughts. “Did I do something?” His voice cut through the silence like a knife and you turned towards him, your eyebrows furrowed. “You seem distracted. You’re not talking like you usually do. You’re sitting far away.” You bit your lip and shrugged softly. “What’s wrong?”
“What did I sing tonight?” You turned to face Coriolanus. “Tonight. I sang, I wore the red dress so everyone could see the white rose you gave me. But what did I sing?” Coriolanus stammered. “You don’t spare a second glance at me during our shows, you talk to Sejanus when I do perform and you let Lucy Gray hang off your arm like she was yours.”
He spoke your name softly, trying to shuffle closer but you stood quickly. “Don’t do that Cori,” You pleaded. “I’m gonna go home, I’ll see you later.” You turned on your heel. Making your way back through the woods.
Coriolanus sighed, dropping his head into his hands as you walked from his view.
The next morning you stared at the ceiling, stretched out on your small bed. You twisted a small rose between your fingers, the thrones pricking your skin occasionally. The knock at the window made you jump. You turned your head to look at Coriolanus standing on the other side, smiling ever so slightly. You sighed and set the rose aside before walking to the window and pulling it open. “Corio-”
“Don’t talk,” he said quickly. “Don’t say anything, just follow me.” 
“Cori-”
“What did I just say?”
A frustrated huff escaped you as you forcefully closed the window, shutting out the annoying sounds of crickets. Pulling the blinds closed with a swift motion covering Coriolanus’s face, but you caught his smile dropping. You donned your jacket and stepped out the front door, stopping in front of Coriolanus just as you turned the corner. He extended his hand, a warm smile playing on his lips. Suppressing the annoyance that still simmered beneath the surface, you offered a muted response, "Just lead the way," your words carrying a hint of resignation.
Coriolanus nodded and started to lead you through the woods, the sun still yet to rise properly. “You sang I Wanna Be Yours,” Coriolanus muttered. “No, I didn't ask Lucy Gray. You wrote it after you met your old girlfriend but you haven't sung it since. That’s why it was so important to you. And why you wanted me to remember it.”
You hummed and tried to hide your smile. “So you were paying attention.”
Coriolanus spoke, low and earnest, his gaze fixed on you. "I always pay attention," he assured, a sincerity etched into his words. The weight of his gaze, coupled with the firmness in his tone, sought to reassure you. "And nothing is happening between Lucy Gray and me. She was helping me with something," he explained, his words carrying the weight of truth and an unspoken plea for understanding.
“Which is?”
Coryo smiled, “Keep following me.”
You followed Coriolanus, walking in silence until the sun rose completely. He stopped at a rock wall, a small dirt trail winding around it. He reached out, slipping his hand into yours and leading you down the track. “Roses don’t grow in 12, the ground is too hard,” Coriolanus started. “Lucy Gray told me just beyond the rock wall there is ground soft enough to grow flowers. Sejanus used his father's money to get some seed and…” Coriolanus stepped aside as you reached the bottom of the track.
You smiled, Coriolanus’s hand slipping from yours as you stepped further into the growing rose field. Dozens of rose bushes had started to grow, small red and white flowers sporting. Small raindrops covered the flowers, the sun reflecting off of them like diamonds. You crouched, smiling as you ran your hand along the rose petals. 
A soft smile played on your lips, and Coriolanus's hand tenderly released yours as you ventured deeper into the growing rose field. Rows of rose bushes, adorned with tiny red and white blossoms, unfold before you, blossoming like a garden from the Capitol. Small raindrops adorned the delicate petals, capturing the sunlight in a dance that shined like diamonds. Your heart swelled. You glanced back at Coriolanus who shared the same smile.
You carefully crouched down, your smile growing as you traced the velvet texture of the rose petals with your fingertips, each delicate touch slow and careful as if the rose would fall apart. Coriolanus smiled as he watched you, his stomach filling with butterflies as he waited for you to speak. 
"Wait..." The urgency in your voice sliced through the air as you stood, swiftly pivoting to face Coriolanus. His smile disappeared, replaced by a stark seriousness mirrored in your eyes. Your heart fell to your stomach as your voice shook, "You said Sejanus got the seeds from his father. If the Peacemakers find out, they'll take you away." The gravity of your words hung heavily in the charged atmosphere. “Cori, they’ll take you to the hanging tree-”
“They won’t,” Coriolanus said quickly. He stepped forward holding your face in his hands, his thumb tracing the lines of your cheekbones. “No one is going to take me away. No one is taking you. Or Sejanus, or Lucy Gray.” You raised your hand, settling it on top of his. “This place is ours, yours and mine. No one is going to take that.”
Yours and mine.
You smiled, laughing softly as you looked up at Coriolanus, his blue eyes meeting yours. “You got me roses?” You asked.
“You said you liked the Capitol flowers more,” Coriolanus remembered. “I can’t exactly take you to the Capitol, so I thought I’d bring the best part of the Capitol here.”
“Besides yourself.”
A warm smile graced his features as he leaned in, closing the distance until his forehead gently met yours. "Do people in the Capitol kiss differently than the districts?" His inquiry, spoken in a hushed tone, carried a hint of curiosity and a touch of playfulness.
“I think…” you leaned up slightly, bumping your nose against his, “you should find out.”
The brush of his fingertips against your jawline, tracing a delicate path along your skin, igniting a shiver that danced down your spine. As he cradled your face, your breath hitched in anticipation, your eyes staring at his chapped pink lips. Drawing you closer, the final shared breath seemed to linger, suspended in the charged atmosphere, before he sealed the connection with a kiss that felt like a spark that lit a fire. Your heart echoed the rhythm of the thousands of times you had dreamed of this moment and your hands instinctively wound around the back of his neck, the embrace pulling him closer.
Your stomach twirled, filling with butterflies as one of Coryo’s hands moved to wrap around your waist and pull you impossibly closer. He pulled away, his breath coming out in small pants, your breath in sync with his. You opened your eyes, looking up at his half-closed eyes tracing over every part of your face. “I love you, Coriolanus Snow.”
He whispered it back.
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rainylana · 5 months
Text
“What’s up, baby?”
Eddie Munson x female reader
summary: a hot day out leads to sex in the van.
warnings: smut, back of the van sex, decrophylia, a single smack, language, smoking. this is kinda self indulgent lmao
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The windows are down and the radio is on the highest volume it can possibly go. The wind is blowing your hair in every direction, getting ratted and tangled up, but it’s just too nice out for you too care.
Eddie’s tapping his cigarette on to the dash of his van, nodding along to his favorite Metallica songs on the cd you made him for Christmas last year. You sing along to the song, sweating from the failure of his ac that was going to hell in a hand bucket.
You look over at him and smile, the smell of his cigarette and ashes wafting up your nostrils. He looks so damn cute, sweating and singing. You shamelessly look down at the bulge in his jeans, leaning over to cup him with your palm.
He doesn’t flinch or jolt, but slowly smirks as he sings, turning his head to look down at you through his black sunglasses. “What’s up, baby?”
You look at him playfully, hopeful that he would pull the van over and fuck you in the back. “Play with me?” You bat your lashes.
He chuckled, shaking his head, pulling your hand off his crotch. “Control yourself, honey. I’ll play with you soon enough.”
You try to ease the ache between your legs, crossing them as you smile. You recognize the turn he makes. He’s heading to lovers lake. He had fucked you there plenty of times.
“Bend over.”
You blush at the order, the sternness of his voice making you throb pathetically. He’s parked by an abandoned campsite, the back of his van doors open. He’s smirking at you, unbuckling his belt with a line of sweat above his lip that glistened in the sun.
You turn around and grin, laying your head on the hot metal of the van floor. “Thank you.”
He laughs, pulling down your panties as he strokes himself. “You’re so weird. Why do you do that?”
You laugh too, pushing yourself back until his dick was poking at you. “Just fuck me, please?”
You both giggle, but it’s interrupted by simultaneous moans, the relief of him sliding into your warm cunt. Your mouths match, ajar and slack. Eddie let’s himself rest in you for a moment before he slides back out, pushing himself back in. His head lulls back, looking up to the trees and closes his eyes as he fucks you.
It’s a quickie. It’s rough and fast and you can barely breath. The sound of his skin slapping yours is in your ears, along with the sound of a buzzing bee that made it’s way in the front of the van.
“Fuck,” You’re barely audible, but your breathing is loud and sporadic.
“Quiet, baby.” He’s panting, too, squeezing his eyes shut as his belly grows tight, relishing in the feeling of your pussy swelling around his length.
You mewl, your legs twitching and shaking. You can’t control yourself, crying out as you push your ass back into him. He spanks you hard, his grip on your hips tightening. “What did I- say, huh?” He’s out of breath, his own thighs quivering as he curses. “Fuck, your cunts so fuckin’ tight.”
Tears are running down your face. Or maybe it’s sweat. Either way, your eyes are burning. You reach down to touch your clit. “I’m gonna cum, Eddie!”
He nods quickly. “Me too.” His voice his shaking. He leans down so his chest is to your back, holding you up. He thrusts into you sharp and deep, busting his load into your cunt as you both cry out. He lays atop of you for a few seconds before he’s rolling off, laying beside you. You’re sniffling, sobbing from the relief of your orgasm.
He opens his eyes, squinting in the sun. “You good, baby?” He knows how emotional you get after sex.
You nod, laughing through your tears. “I’m good, Ed.”
878 notes · View notes
htchnr · 21 days
Text
♰ too late to turn back now ༻ L. HOWLETT.*ೃ˚
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✮ꜜ masterlist. ✮ꜜ buy me a ko-fi!
content warning tooth rotting fluff ⋆ like fr it's disgusting how cute these two are ⋆ unmentioned age gap ⋆ r in her 20s ⋆ if i missed anything, lmk!
pairing neighbor!old man Logan.
summary sweet moments the morning after your first time together. written with 'Too Late To Turn Back Now' by Cornelius Brothers and Sister Rose! give it a listen for those sweet, sappy romantic vibes ;3 wordcount 0,9k.
authors note if y'all want, i can turn this into a small series, with little things that happen over time between these two 🤭 (please, PLEASE send requests for this, i'd love nothing more than more ideas and your thoughts) neighbor!Logan's got a cute cat in this series, (not mentioned yet in this fic) :3
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© 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒 𝐇𝐓𝐂𝐇𝐍𝐑. 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐜𝐨𝐩𝐲, 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐦, 𝐨𝐫 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫!
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soft tunes flow through your apartment as you stand at the stove, deftly flipping bacon pancakes in the pan. the windows are open, fresh air mixing with the thick smell of the pancakes.
Logan grunts as he shifts in your bed, face nuzzling against your pillows as he breathes in the comforting smell of your perfume and your scent.
he misses being wrapped in your scent when he gets up and out of bed, making his way to the doorway leading to the kitchen. he leans against the frame, watching you sway your hips as you quietly sing along to the music coming from your record player. he smiles as he watches your figure move, his shirt from last night covering you.
— SINCE I MET THIS LITTLE WOMAN, I BELIEVE IT'S HAPPENED TO ME.
his heart throbs at the lyrics, he knows it's one of the records he gave you a few weeks ago as a 'thank you' for watching his cat— he claimed he had them 'just laying around', but both of you knew better.
— IT'S TOO LATE TO TURN BACK NOW, I BELIEVE, I BELIEVE, I BELIEVE I'M FALLING IN LOVE.
you turn around, moving to grab the large plate you were stacking the pancakes on when you spot him. your eyes widen and you jump a little as you lay your eyes on him— oh he looks too fine. boxers hugging his hips, that broad, hairy and scarred chest on full display.
" hey! hope i didn't wake you with the music. " you sheepishly smile, " m'sorry, it's a routine of mine. " you laugh as you turn back to scooping pancakes onto the plate.
he knows it's a routine, he eagerly listens for the sweet sound of your music each morning from the other side of the large wall separating your apartments. but you don't have to know that.
" don't worry 'bout it, doll. there'r worse ways to wake up. " he smiles. god, his smile.
you smile to yourself, turning away from him to hide your blush as you focus on the last batch of pancakes. you gasp as his big hands smooth over your hips, gently swaying with you to the music.
— AND THERE'S NOTHING THAT I CAN DO, IT'S TOO LATE TO TURN BACK NOW.
he smiles against your hair, it is too late, he thinks to himself. with the way his heart clenches each time he hears you play one of the records he gave you, or when he smells your perfume waft over through his window as you water your plants— he knows he's caught it hard.
— TELL YOU, I CAN'T SLEEP AT NIGHT, FOR WANTING TO HOLD HER TIGHT.
but with the way you're laughing against him as you two sway to the music, trying to focus on not burning the pancakes— he lets his feelings wash over him in pleasant waves. it is indeed, 'too late to turn back now'.
" so, d'you want syrup with 'em? " your syrupy sweet voice pulls him out of his train of thoughts.
he blinks, before pressing a kiss to the top of your head. " you're going to mix syrup with bacon pancakes? " he pokes, moving to take both plates of food from you with ease as he sets them on the table.
you laugh, a sound so sweet to him, he won't ever need extra sugar on anything as long as you're around. " oh, honey, " you grin teasingly, setting down a big jug of syrup on the table as you sit next to him. " i promise you'll love it. " you wink, pouring a generous amount over your stack of pancakes.
he hums, savoring the way you call him 'honey'. he watches you cut off a large bite with your fork, holding your hand beneath the dripping pieces, " c'mon, try it. " you grin.
he sighs with a smile, leaning forward to bite off the pieces from your fork. you giggle as some syrup drips onto his beard, leaning over to swipe it away with your thumb and suck off the sweetness.
Logan watches the action with darkening eyes, as you lick off the remainder of the syrup that dripped from the bite you offered him.
— IT'S TOO LATE TO TURN BACK NOW, I BELIEVE, I BELIEVE, I BELIEVE I'M FALLING IN LOVE.
it's safe to say, he's taken a strong liking to bacon pancakes drenched in syrup.
339 notes · View notes
leaawrites · 25 days
Text
Let me love you
Lando Norris x Fewtrell!reader
Summary: one dream and feelings will be spilled from both sides.
Part 2 to Dreams of Forbidden Territory
I hate the ending, so maybe I'll rewrite it again sometime.
Masterlist
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The air in the morning was cold, colder than usual. A soft breeze flying over their sleeping bodies, legs tangled up in each other, the blanket only fairly thrown over their bare bodies. Birds were singing outside the still open window. The sun greeting them good morning.
Lando woke first, his eyes opening slowly, squinting shut again at the exposure to the bright light. A pair of feet was heard walking down the stairs, the house coming alive. He looked at the woman next to him, smiling softly at the sight of her. His arm was still holding her by her waist as she turned to him, burring her face in his chest to hide away from the sun. Lando softly laughed at her demeanor, waking her up too.
She didn’t notice what she snuggled up to in her slumber, but now - feeling the chuckle flood through his body, his breath on her skin - she noticed. Bagging away a bit to look at him properly, opening only one eye to make sure it was truly him. The boy she fell asleep to last night.
Lando smiled down at her, his finger softly stroking her skin, along her rib cage and down to her hips. Squeezing her flesh softly every now and then to make sure he was holding her and not just a dream. It felt surreal to both of them, seeing the sight in front of them. Taking it all in.
“How did you sleep?” Lando asked, his voice rough and his accent thicker than she ever heard it before.
“Better than ever before,” she answered, blushing a bit at the words she chose. Was it too much?
“Good to hear,” he answered, smiling still, taking her doubts away.
“What about you?” she asked, her fingers trailing up his arm towards his shoulder blade, tracing the marks she left there the night before. It wasn’t a lot to cover up, it shouldn’t be a problem.
“Better than ever before,” he said back, making her giggle. Her gaze still fixed on his shoulder and collarbone. “Is it bad?” He asked, referring to the hickeys decorating his skin now.
She shook her head, “No.”
“What a disappointment,” Lando said, sighing dramatically. “Gonna have to do it again then, love.”
The nickname made her blush. The heat rising to her cheeks and flooding her system. It was all over her, the passion and feeling of potential love. She knew she liked him for longer than she could remember, but was it love? Could it be love even if you couldn’t show it to the world?
Brushing his nose against her jaw, Lando trailed soft kisses down her skin, lingering on every spot for a bit longer and memorizing the feeling of her skin on his lips. If this would be the last time he would do it, he wanted to remember it.
“You should probably go back to your room,” Y/n said, taking his face in her hands and making him look up at her. Locking eyes and making him understand why. “Nobody will know you slept here.”
“Yeah,” Lando breathed out. Right. Nobody will know. Except he will. And will he be able to forget? Or at least make it look like nothing happened? He doubted it. This was what he wanted, it was what he wished for and now he couldn’t make it known to the world.
Pushing his body up on his arms and sitting on the edge of the bed to put his clothes back on, she watched him. Her hands fell onto the mattress and her eyes lingered on his body until he was out of the door. Not looking back at her as he did so. The door to her room closed and shortly after his own did too.
She laid in bed for another hour before finally standing up, getting dressed and walking downstairs. Lando and Max were already in the kitchen, the latter with his head on the counter, groaning whenever someone made a sound. She looked at Lando in confusion, but he didn’t answer, he just walked past her. Ignoring her.
“Max drank too much,” Pietra answered the girl, making her look from where Lando once stood to her. She was sat on the coach, watching the interaction. “I guess, Lando wasn’t happy with how the night turned out.”
She didn’t know, Y/n told herself. She didn’t know, that’s how it was supposed to be. But maybe she did, her eyes look like she does. Did she know and did she also know that he wasn’t satisfied? Was she not what he wanted?
“You slept pretty long today, I hope you didn’t take one of these lads from the restaurant home with you,” Max grumbled from the kitchen, looking up at her. “You did, didn’t you?”
His eyes laid somewhere on her body.
“I didn’t,” she argued, crossing her arms over her chest.
Max stood up and walked over to her, taking her arms from covering her skin and pointing to somewhere on her rib cage. “Then what is this? And don’t come with the I-hit-myself-somewhere bullshit.”
Looking down on where his finger and eyes lingered she saw the dark bruise forming on her stomach. How could she have not seen that?
The room was filled with silence.
“What are you doing?” Lando asked confused as he came back into the room and saw Max with Y/n’s wrist in his and both holding eye contact for longer than it was good for. He could see the girl slightly trembling and even when he was frustrated by their situation, he couldn’t help but worry.
“Little Y/n here sneaked a boy in and out apparently,” Pietra was once again the one, breaking the news.
Lando looked at the pair in shock. Shit.
“No way,” he said, trying to not seem suspicious by laughing in amusement. He could see Y/n shrink in the corner of his eye, growing smaller by his exclamation. It made her feel worthless, like she was back to being nothing but Max’s little sister. Like they were never more.
“Who was it? I know how you can be. Falling too fast for your own good,” Max said to her. “I mean, you’ve been basically all over Lando ever since 5th grade.”
“Max!” Y/n shouted, eyes wide in shock and embarrassment.
“What? It’s true. Finally you moved on,” he continued talking. “We all knew it would never be something.”
Tears started forming in her eyes. Right. It would never be something, he made that pretty clear.
“Why not?” Lando spoke now, making all of them look at him. He didn’t dare look at Y/n, he knew that if he did he would crack right there and then. “Why not?” He repeated again.
“I mean, mate, you’re you.” Max let go of his sister’s hand. “You don’t really do anything else beside one-night stands.”
Lando’s eyes stayed on Y/n, his eyes burning in her back. Max watched it all happen. How his sister squeezed her eyes shut. How his best friend looked at her with sincere eyes. He feared it would happen sooner or later, he just hoped it would be without him around. He should’ve known better. He should’ve known when Lando asked him to bring her with him.
“Really?” Was all he asked. He didn’t sound angry or surprised. He just wanted clearance about it all.
“We only slept together.” Was what she said.
“I lover her.” Was what he said.
Y/n turned to him startled. Her eyes wide. Her heart beating fast. But he didn’t look back at her. His gaze was focused on Max.
“Max,” he started. “I know that this isn’t what you wanted, it wasn’t planned or anything and I think neither of us thought about it really happening, but it did. And I’m not regretting it. It might be bold to throw such words like ‘love’ around, but I believe that this is what I’m feeling. And if it’s not, then it will be. If you let me love her that is.”
The room stayed silent, only heartbeats filling the space between them.
“I swear if you make out in front of me,” Max said, looking disgusted at even the thought of it happening. He might just throw up if he ever saw it happen in real life.
“Can’t make any promises,” Lando said, smirking at her, but she didn’t look back at him. Her eyes were focused on her hands, picking at the skin of her fingers.
When she felt six pairs of eyes look down at her, she looked up. Being faced with the confession she still couldn’t quite believe to be true. He loved her - wanted to love her - why? Why him? She knew how he could be - everyone did. She heard whatever Max told her over the years; how Lando would constantly stay out late and go home with whoever was willing to take his hand. She knew she wouldn’t last long if that was how he would be.
Still she took his hand in hers and guided him back into the past, a room where they could be purely themselves, opening up fully. She paced around the room, her hands buried in her hair.
“Are you mad at me?” Lando asked, fiddling with the rings on his hands. Twisting them and taking them off and putting them on again. He looked her way but he didn’t look at her. His lip sucked between his teeth, probably drawing blood soon.
“What was that?” She asked, ignoring his question all together. Standing in front of him, she could see the tears slowly forming in his eyes.
“I was just telling the truth,” he whispered, his voice quivering and shaking and breaking. Breaking her heart.
“Was it really the truth?”
Lando looked up at the girl in front of him, seeing her own distress in her slouching posture. He nodded, saying, “Of course it was.”
Y/n took in a deep breath before asking, “You really like me?”
“Yes. Yes, of course.�� How could someone like her not believe she was worth loving? Lando tried to wrack his brain around it but he couldn’t. There didn’t seem to be a single logical explanation as to why someone should feel that way. someone so funny and nice and beautiful.
Someone so lovable.
“Are you gonna stay?”
“Yes.”
384 notes · View notes
skzdarlings · 2 years
Text
05. sharing a bed series ; skz ; han
masterlist.
sharing a bed series part 5/8. because it’s the cheesiest most classic trope and it’s FUN. -
pairing: han jisung/reader content info: dom!reader. sub!jisung. sexual content. enemies2lovers, sharing a bed trope. past misunderstandings, grudges, bickering. femdom feat: face slapping, face sitting, hair pulling, choking, riding, denial-n-cumming-anyway, kneeling, more pussy eating. this one is a little longer. teehee :)
-
“Hey, I hope you had a good flight…”
Chan’s voice message crackles through your phone speaker but you can barely hear him over the bustling airport. You wait until you are outside in the pick-up zone to try listening again.  It is marginally quieter out here, cars coming and going, light snowfall brightening the winter night.  With your luggage at your feet, you replay his voice mail. 
“Hey, I hope you had a good flight.  Something came up at work and I’m not gonna be able to pick you up.  I’m really sorry ‘bout it, mate.  Jisung is on his way to get you.  I know, I know, but he’ll get you home, yeah?  If you’re still mad tomorrow, I’ll take you to lunch and you can kill me there.  Buh-byyeeeee!”   
Oh, that son of a bitch. 
The message ends just as a pair of headlights flash over you.  You can see through the front window but despite the direct eye contact Jisung still feels the need the honk the horn not once, not twice, but three times. 
You stand there with your arms hanging helplessly at your sides.  Snow falls on your head and a frown darkens your whole face.  Jisung just smiles and waves like an idiot, honking the horn again. 
I am going to kill Chan, you think to yourself. 
Jisung loves putting you in situations where you are the unrepentant supervillain of his life, so ignoring him and getting in a cab would just play into his horrible little hands.  He might look unassuming in his puffy coat and backwards cap, might look soft and friendly with his fair hair and plushy pink smile, might look innocent with his big brown eyes peering at you with cartoonishly saccharine enthusiasm, but in reality none of that is true. 
Han Jisung is the worst. 
Han Jisung is your nemesis. 
Han Jisung honks the horn again.
“I’m coming, I’m coming!” you shout.  You roll your eyes and heft your luggage over your shoulder, stomping with an incredible degree of petulance for a woman of your age.  You toss your bag in the trunk then slide into the passenger seat. 
Jisung honks again. 
“Hello, hello, welcome to Flight H.A.N with Jisung airlines, this is your pilot speaking—”
You turn on the radio to shut him up.  You are not in the mood for his shenanigans. 
Jisung cringes with theatrical chagrin.   
“Yikes,” he says with a bubbly laugh.  “Tough crowd.”
“Just drive.”  
“Yes, mistress, right away, mistress, Jisung lives to serve his mistress, please don’t hurt Jisung or leave him out in the cold tonight—”
You thunk your head against the headrest, glaring ahead as Jisung smoothly joins the traffic flow despite his nonsensical rambling. 
You vaguely remember a time when Jisung was shy, back before he made it his life mission to send you hurtling into an annoyance-induced death.  You also vaguely remember a time you liked him, him and his quietness, him and his quirky humour, him and his big, stupid, brown eyes. 
Stupid, stupid, stupid. 
Jisung sings along with the radio so you flip the station to one with talking.   He strums his fingers on the steering wheel, lips pursed and eyebrows lifted.  He casts you a few side glances that you pointedly ignore.   When you see him open his mouth, you hold up a finger. 
“Do not even think about it,” you say.  “Whatever you were about to say or do… Don’t.”
He presses his lips together and makes an obnoxiously loud pop.
“Kk,” he says.  “This should be a fun half hour.”
The airport is outside of the city, a half-hour drive to your downtown apartment.  Usually.  The weather has traffic horrifically backed up.  Half an hour comes and goes and you are barely out of view of the airport. 
“We could play a game,” Jisung says, looking at you sideways.  “I spy with my little—”
“Nope.”
“Okay, cool. Cool, cool, cool.”  He nods, strumming the steering wheel again. 
The radio blathers on, you barely listening.  You scroll through your phone until there are zero notifications, then you scroll through your photo album just for something to look at.  Jisung hums to himself and you try not to get annoyed all over again.  You exploding at something so inconsequential would give him way too much satisfaction.   
The snow comes down harder.  It pulls your attention from your phone to the blustery world outside.  Everything is a harsh grey, the dark night foggily illuminated by the white snow.  Even Jisung is concentrating now, his brow furrowed as he stares through the front window. 
“Shit,” he says. 
He changes stations to catch a road update.  Your jaws drop in unison when the reporter mentions a thirteen hour delay on the main bridge into the city. 
“Thirteen fucking hours?” you say.  It comes out wheezy.  “It’s winter!  Why are they always so surprised by the fucking snow!  God!  What the hell are we gonna do?”
“We’re not going anywhere near the bridge, that’s what we’re gonna do,” Jisung says, flipping the car into reverse and immediately changing course. 
“How else are we getting downtown?” 
He looks at you like you’re so stupid that he can’t believe it, his eyebrows jumping up his face. 
“Uh, hello, welcome back to town, it’s snowing here,” Jisung says.  “We’re going downtown tomorrow when it won’t kill us or trap us in a car—”
“I want to go home—”
“Do you want to spend thirteen hours in a car with me?”  Jisung asks.  “Because that’s what going home will involve right now, k?”
He sounds terse.  You feel a little better when he acts short with you too, more justified in your own rudeness. 
“Fine,” you say.  “What are we doing then?”   
A ten minute trip turns into an hour long drive with traffic delays, but eventually you are rolling into the snow-covered parking lot of the only motel with a vacancy sign.  You and Jisung do not speak, stepping out of the car and crunching along the snow in silence.  The motel parking lot is washed a golden colour, the yellow balcony lights beaming over the white snow.   It holds the promise of warmth.   You hurry inside. 
You shake yourself off in the tiny entryway while Jisung dings the desk bell.  Someone appears to check you in. 
“You’re a lucky couple,” she says.  “Lots of folks have stopped because of the weather.  We have exactly one room left available.  It’s a nice cozy double bed.  Sounds good?”  
“Ummm…”  You join Jisung at the desk, a million frantic thoughts running through your brain.  “Hold on, we’re not—”
“Did you hear that, baby?” Jisung says with exaggerated fondness, because he can’t help but taunt you.  “We’re a lucky couple.  Isn’t that just our luck the only room available has one bed?” 
You step on his foot deliberately and he yelps. 
“Is there really no other option?” you ask the attendant with some degree of desperation. 
“No, sorry.”  She gives you a funny look but shakes her head.  “I doubt you’ll have better luck finding a room anywhere else tonight.  You can have this one or enjoy a car nap.” 
“My beautiful wife and I are happy with a double,” Jisung says, already holding out his credit card.  “Right, baby?” 
You smack his ass, hard and swift.  His eyes widen.   You smirk.
“Right, baby,” you say with a snarl. 
-
Tonight’s only saving grace is the hot water; you enjoy a long shower before changing into sleep shorts and a camisole.   You join Jisung in the room, finding him sprawled on the double bed with air pods in his ears.  He tossed his hat somewhere and is laying there in jeans and a t-shirt – remarkable, as you thought he might strip to his underwear just to be annoying.  But no, he lays there peacefully.  His fair hair is darker at the root, neatly framing his unfortunately handsome face.  He has one arm flexed under his head, the muscle more pronounced than you remember it being.  His eyes are closed as he nods along to the music. 
You grab a pillow and thwack him in the gut.  It startles him to attention, a strangled sound leaving his throat. 
“You stay on that side of the bed and you do not move, got it?” you say. 
He sticks his tongue out at you.   
“Very mature,” you say. 
You lay down with your back to him.  After twenty minutes, he still has his bedside light on so you snap at him.  He whines like a little baby but turns it off, leaving just his phone beaming at his face.  You can hear his music but say nothing. 
You can’t sleep.  You want to roll over but you absolutely refuse to face him. 
His phone screen finally goes dark after god knows how long and he puts it aside.  There is a long stretch of silence in the dark.  You swear you have never been so uncomfortable laying on this side in all your life.  Knowing you will not be able to sleep without turning at least once, you decide to roll over.  You figure Jisung laid down with his back to you anyway.
He didn’t.  He is staring right at you, his big eyes making him look like a pathetic little lemur gawping at a human in the dark. 
“Why don’t you like me?” Jisung says.
“Oh no,” you say, immediately rolling onto your back.  “Absolutely not.  We are not having a heart to heart.”
“Oh come oooon, please,” he whines.  “This is the time and place—”
“It really isn’t—”
“It’s a classic story, a boy, and a girl—”
“I don’t like stories—”
“Forced to share a bed and share their secret feelings—”
“Those feelings are disgust, hatred, and revulsion—”
“Opening their hearts and—whoa, wait, what?  Hatred?  You hate me?”  Jisung pushes himself up on one elbow, staring down at you with a completely horrified look on his face. 
You try to ignore him and his stupid expressions, glaring at the ceiling as if it can do anything to save you.   Your heart is beating fast but it doesn’t feel good.  The pounding is coupled with a nauseous turn in your gut.
It is open knowledge that you do not like Han Jisung one bit, but you seldom vocalize it so explicitly.  Certainly not to his face.  Certainly not beside him in bed. 
“That can’t possibly surprise you,” you say.
“Well, it does actually!”  Jisung says.  “I knew you didn’t like me but hate me?  How could you hate me?  I’m delightful.” 
Even now, the clown is trying to joke.  Because that’s all it is to him, isn’t it?  Everything is just a joke all the time.  Everything and everyone is a punchline waiting to happen.  But you aren’t laughing.  Your hands close into fists and you dig your nails into your palms to keep your frustration in check.  Your neck feels hot and your stomach is still turning.  You feel embarrassed about things you haven’t even said yet.  Your tongue feels swollen somehow, your throat lined thickly.  It takes several deep breaths before you can speak.
“Well,” you say bitterly, “I guess I just can’t help being a massive bitch.  The worst you’ve ever met, right?” 
There is a beat of silence, then Jisung flips on the bedside light.
You slap your fists down on the bedcovers and glare at him.
“Turn off the light,” you say. 
“No way, you were just talking in a voice.  What did you mean? Why do you--”
“Jisung, I swear to god, if you don’t turn off that light—”
“Look, can we just—”
You shove the covers down and climb on top of him without thinking, trying to reach the light yourself.  He grabs you by the arms and pushes you back.  You end up tussling ungracefully, you wriggling around like a worm and Jisung clearly in control but just as clearly trying to go easy on you.  It puts you at an impasse.  With an angry huff, you push away from him.
“If I said something—” he starts. 
You laugh, a joyless cackle. 
“If,” you repeat.  “You’ve said a lot of somethings over the years, Jisung.” 
“I—I didn’t mean it if I—I don’t even know what I—”
You look at him.  He seems to be genuinely confounded and more than a little miserable, his eyes darting around as he racks his brain, his brow furrowed with obvious upset.  His hand is frozen on his head, a clump of hair feathering through his fingers. 
He meets your gaze and you roll your eyes.  You feel hot and uncomfortable again, the source of your nausea climbing up and up and up until it is clawing its way past your lips and—
“The day we met,” you say, finally, after years of stamping down the humiliating memory, “you said I was a massive bitch, the worst you had ever met.  And it—”
You are not sad.  You refuse to be sad.  This pain is years old now and it does not hurt you anymore.  But you are angry –  with him, with yourself, with this whole shitty circumstance, and the angrier you get, the more tears stab at your eyes. 
You swallow down a lump in your throat and take a steadying breath.  You stare at the wall because his attentive, earnest gaze is too much to bear. 
“I know I’m a little awkward when I first meet people,” you say.  “I’m shy and weird and sometimes… sometimes people think I’m a bitch when really I’m just quiet.  Chan introduced me to you because he said that you were kinda the same, and that we had lots in common, and he thought we would get along.  And then we met and—”
“We did,” Jisung says softly.
Your vision is blurry now.  You sniff hard, wiping your arm under your nose. 
“Yes,” you say.  “We did.  We got along amazing.  We were quiet for a second and then it was like… like we were already friends. As if we always knew each other. I’ve never spoken like that to someone so quickly.  It’s like I just forgot to be shy.   I was so happy and then—”
“I remember all this,” Jisung says, still sounding confused.  “I don’t get it.  It was Changbin’s birthday, right?  We were talking all night and it was great but then you just left without saying bye.  Then the next time we met you already hated me—”
You finally look at him, hitting him with the full force of your emotional expression.  He clearly was not expecting the tears because he literally jumps at the sight of you. 
“I left after overhearing you talk about me in the kitchen to one of your stupid friends,” you snap.  “’That woman is without doubt a totally massive bitch.  The worst I’ve ever met.’  And you were laughing.  Just… just standing there laughing about it, about me.  And I had no idea why.  Why?  What had I said or done?  It was humiliating.  And it hurt, and the reason it hurt so bad was because it came from you.”  You jab him in the chest, trying to sound angry because your tears are falling now and it just makes you feel pathetic.  “It hurt, Jisung,” you say, “because it was you.  From anyone else I wouldn’t care.  But you were the one person I expected to understand me.  The one person who got what it was like.  So to hear you saying those things—god.  I never wanted to see you again, but then you and Chan started your stupid projects together and I couldn’t get away from you.  And you just got more and more in my face no matter what I did—”
“Oh my god.” Jisung slaps both hands to his head.  He closes his eyes and shakes his head, as if he can’t believe what he is hearing.  “Hold on,” he says, abruptly getting out of bed.  “Just… just hold on.” 
He runs away.  You sit there more confused than anything, your face wet, your breathing uneven.  He is gone long enough for you to get angry again, glaring at him when he gets back in the bed.
“Here,” he says, giving you the tissue box he evidently retrieved from the bathroom.  “Just… here.” 
He takes a tissue and awkwardly dabs at your cheek.  You snatch it away from him, frowning. 
“Sorry, sorry,” he says.  He gets off the bed again, hovering awkwardly at the side while you wipe your face clean.   He waits until you are composed, swaying where he stands, clasping and unclasping his hands.  When you stop sniffling, he lets out a huge exhale.  “Okay,” he says.  “Look.  I’m sorry.  I’m… I’m really, really fucking sorry.  And I want to explain, I really do, but… but if I explain, I think it’s only gonna make you upset.”
You give him a very sarcastic look.
“I’m already upset, you stupid jerk,” you say.  “Just spit it out so I can go to sleep.” 
“Right.”  He runs his hand through his hair again.  It falls softly down and flutters when he exhales.  “God.  Okay.  This is gonna sound so stupid.  But, yeah, okay, I do remember saying that actually.  I didn’t know you heard me but… but that’s not an excuse.  I know.  I shouldn’t have said it at all.  I totally do know that.  But also… I said it, but I didn’t.  What I mean is, what you heard me saying, I was not actually saying.”
You stare at him for a long moment. 
“What,” you say, “the fuck?” 
He waves his hands around defensively. 
“What I mean is,” he says, “and stay with me… but… I actually meant it as a compliment.” 
“A compliment,” you say.  “A compliment?  You called me a massive bitch as a compliment?”
“Yes.” 
“Do you seriously expect me to believe that?” you shout, grabbing a pillow and hurling it at him.
His reflexes are fast.  He ducks and the pillow sails over his head, whacking the blinds with a clatter.  He looks there then looks at you, just in time for you to throw the tissue box.  He dodges that too, ducking down again.  The box hits the radiator and thunks to the ground. 
“Okay, listen—” he says.
He is not fast enough when you chuck the second pillow. 
“Okay, okay, I deserved that,” he says, holding the offending pillow up in surrender.  He tentatively approaches the bed with it, eying you as he gently lays it back down.
You glare.
“I promise I can explain,” he says.  “And you’re gonna love this explanation, because it is going to completely and totally humiliate me and you will have something to hold over my head for the rest of your life.”
“I’m listening,” you say.  You feel embarrassed about crying so the least he can do is embarrass himself too. 
“Thank you,” he says.  He gets back on the bed, kneeling and tipping his head back.  It looks like he’s praying, gathering the strength to admit whatever he is about to admit. 
You cross your arms.  You are annoyed he is taking so long and also annoyed that you genuinely want to know.  Han Jisung has no problem blurting every stupid thought that crosses his mind, at least when it comes to you, so you cannot begin to imagine what dark secret he can’t bring himself to speak out loud. 
You are halfway convinced he is trying to come up with a lie when he finally throws his arms out as if in supplication. 
“I’m a fucking freak!” he says, with all the verve and jubilation of hallelujah.  He closes his eyes and nods his head.  “I’m a pervert and I think with my dick like ninety-eight per cent of the time.  The other two per cent of the time I am honestly probably thinking with my prostate, though I haven’t really worked that one out yet completely—”
“What?”  Your whole face screws tight with bewilderment.  “What the fuck are you talking about?” 
“I love bitches.  No wait.”  He shakes his head.  “That came out wrong.  Hold on.  I love… well, yeah, no, bitches.  Mean girls.  Bullies.  Catwoman.”
“Catwoman.”
“That whip… t-cha.”
“Jisung—”
“Look I was telling my friend about you because Minho’s an even bigger freak than me.  He’s the only one who knows my secret and—”
“Your secret,” you say slowly. “That you… like bitches?”
“That I love bitches,” he says.  “When I told him that you were the biggest bitch I ever met, it was because we both knew that what I meant was: holy shit dude, I just found my soulmate, she’s the most amazing woman I’ve ever met, I’m getting married tonight, and if she asked me to tattoo her face on my butt right now I would do it.” 
You hate that you laugh, but the comment is so unexpected that it sputters out of you.
Jisung smiles, releasing a pent-up breath of relief. 
“You were… are… funny, and smart, and yeah a bit quiet but you still don’t let it stop you from defending yourself or someone else when something is wrong.  Remember when you told off that creep at the party?  The one who was bugging Felix?  You don’t take anyone’s shit and then you just move on quietly like it was nothing.  I was obsessed with you from the second we started talking.  Then I was a stupid horny pervert and opened my big stupid mouth and now you hate me.” 
“I’m still not sure I really get it,” you say, admittedly flustered at his admission.  You had no idea Jisung saw you that way.  The woman he’s describing does sound pretty amazing, and he sounds sincerely infatuated.   When your heart starts skipping beats again, it feels different than before.  “Explain,” you say. 
He slaps his thighs in a motion of surrender. 
“Yup,” he says.  “Okay.  Fine.  Cool.  I like when women boss me around.  I like when they are mean to me.  I like when they hurt me and make me cry.   It… it gets my dick hard, okay?  I love bitches.  I LOVE BITCHES—”
You reach out to slap a hand over his mouth, remembering it’s a motel in the middle of the night. 
Jisung’s shoulders jump and he laughs into your hand, clearly embarrassed as he remembers where he is.  You laugh in spite of yourself, lowering your hand. 
“Oops,” he says.
“Oops,” you reply. 
Oops, you misunderstood your eavesdropping. 
Oops, Jisung never hated you. 
Oops, you find yourself staring into his eyes for way too long. 
“So just to clarify,” you say.  “You’re into, like, female domination stuff, and you called me a bitch as the highest form of compliment in your crazy brain, and then you spent the next two years being as annoying as possible because…”
“I thought you were just, like, crazy edging me or something,” Jisung says, making you laugh helplessly into your hands.  He laughs too, even while looking a little pained.  “I did!  I was like shit, she’s so nasty, she’s really taking me for a fucking ride.  I would have kept doing this for the rest of our lives if this conversation didn’t happen.  I would’ve been at your wedding like damn, she’s really got me going this time—”
“You’re so stupid,” you say, pushing at his chest without any real animosity. 
“I know, I really am,” he says.  He draws an X over his chest.  “But cross my heart and hope to die, everything I have told you is the complete truth.  I’d tell you to slap me because you definitely deserve it but honestly, it would give me a boner and I don’t think either of us wants that since we’re stuck in the same bed all night.” 
He says it jokingly, of course.  But you can hear the twinge of flirtation and truth under his just kidding. 
And maybe you’re still on an adrenaline kick.  Maybe your emotions are right at the surface.  Maybe you hated him so much because deep down you liked him, and you hated that you liked him because of a misunderstanding. 
And maybe, just maybe, those big brown eyes have drawn you in from the second you first saw him. 
“Slap you,” you say, as if in deep contemplation.  “Slap you where?  Your face?” 
This clearly catches him off guard.  He opens his mouth and a garbled sound comes out.  He thumps a fist on his chest. 
“Uh, yeah,” he says.  “Sure.  Whatever, you know.  You know.” 
“Mhm.” You move so you are kneeling too, facing each other.  You watch as he swallows hard, the gulp going down his throat.  All the adrenaline you built up earlier is suffusing into the race of your bloodstream.  Heat simmers below the surface of your skin.  “And you like that?  Getting slapped when you’ve been bad?”
“Oh my god,” he says.  “Are you.. are we… is something happening right now?  Oh my god.  Hold on.”  He says that but then all he does is stand up and sit back down again, rekneeling in the exact same position.  “Right, okay,” he says.  “Slap away.”
You snort, rolling your eyes but smiling.  You lift your hand but he is staring at you so expectantly that it just feels weird, not sexy, and you laugh giddily with amusement. 
“Aww, come oooon,” he whines, but laughingly too.  “Don’t get shy.  You were so good at it.”
“I’ve had years of bitchy practice, I guess,” you say with a quirked eyebrow, making him grin.  You shake your head.  “I dunno.  Just.  Do something to earn a slap I guess.  It’s too weird to just smack you out of nowhere.” 
“Do something?” he asks.  “Uh, I dunno.  As far as I’m concerned, I’ve never done anything in my life to earn a slap.  I’m seriously the most charming and funny and perfect guy ever and I—” 
Your slap him across the face.  The sound startles you because it sounds harder than it felt, ringing out loud with only the faintest sting on your palm.   
Jisung looks genuinely surprised.  His head turned with the impact of the slap, his jaw falling open.  He blinks himself back into focus and you are about to ask if he’s all right, then he looks at you in a way he has never looked at you before.  The desire and desperation of his gaze moves right through you, gathering hot in every intimate place. 
“Did you like that?” he asks, his voice a little gravelly as it drops low. 
“I don’t know,” you say softly.  You reach out to touch his chin, a delicate touch that makes him shiver.  You turn his face to look at the faint redness on his cheek.  “Can I try again to be sure?”
He nods and swallows again. 
You don’t ask for build-up this time.  You pull your hand back and bring it down sharply on his cheek. 
This time it makes him whimper.  It flushes you with heat. 
“Oh my god,” you say.  “What else?” 
“Uh, oh, fuck, um.”  He touches his cheek and sucks in a breath.  He pushes his hair only for it flop back in place.  “Um,” he says.  “Choking.  F-fingers?  Fingers in my mouth...  Um, haha, I can’t think.  Bondage?  Yeah.  Erm, denial.  Overstimulation.  Puuussy… yes, um, pussy.  On my face please.  Uhh… Punishment.  Pulling my hair… Oh, hello.” 
You take hold of his shoulders and push, guiding him to lay on his back.  He is already panting when you straddle him, his eyes wide when you lean down. 
“Do you still hate me?” he asks when you are millimetres away from his mouth.
You pretend to think about it.
“Hm,” you say with obvious theatricality, stealing a page from his book.  “Yeah.  I hate you so much.  You’re my worst enemy.  Sorry, baby.”
“That’s hot,” he says with a nervous little giggle.  “You’re hot.  You know I think—mmmf.”
You interrupt whatever long-winded joke was incoming.  He does not protest this interruption as it involves a kiss, a good kiss, a deep kiss, one that pushes his head into the plushness of his pillow, one that has him moaning into your mouth.   He lifts his hands to touch you, fingertips barely grazing your bare thighs when you seize his wrists.  You shove them into the bed, pinned on either side of his head.  He bucks under you, his mouth opening under your kiss.  You bite at his bottom lip and drag your teeth, making his hips move even more. 
You break away quickly and just as quickly slap him.  It knocks a surprised breath out of him, his eyes a bit watery when he looks up at you. 
“Don’t get ahead of yourself, baby,” you say.  “I’m just getting started.”
“Oh my god.” 
You try not to smile but Jisung makes it hard.  You feel flushed with excitement, hot with power and anticipation.  You squeeze his hips between your thighs and push the hem of his shirt up and over his chest.   He whimpers again but doesn’t move, his eyes closing when you hold down his wrists and duck your head. 
“Fuck, oh god,” he murmurs, a constant stream of mumbled expletives as your mouth runs over his chest, kissing and licking and biting, teasing him until he can’t help but buck his hips for friction.   When you feel him fully hard in his jeans you lean back, smirk, then climb off him.  “Oh god, you’re too good at this,” he says, keeping his hands where you left them and gazing at you with wanting eyes. 
You blow him a kiss and shimmy out of your shorts and underwear.  Thoughtlessly he swings a hand down to touch himself, squeezing his dick through his jeans and groaning. 
“Did I tell you that you could—” you start, but he puts his hand back beside his head before you can finish.  His smile is far too innocent.  “You’re lucky you’re cute,” you say. 
“Am I?” he asks, wiggling his eyebrows. 
“Shut up,” you reply, getting back on top of him.  “I still hate you.” 
“Oh god, yes,” he says.  His hips buck into the air as you scoot over his chest.  “More.” 
“I hate you,” you say, moving until your legs are on either side of his head.  “ I hate you so much, Han Jisung.  I’m going to ruin you.” 
“Fuck.” 
He already has his mouth open when you lower onto his face.  You grip the headboard and rock yourself over his tongue, back and forth until he finds your rhythm and takes over.  What he lacks in precision he compensates with eagerness, licking at you without any care for the mess it makes of him, wet and sloppy and hot as his tongue moves inside you then up and down your pussy, circling your clit, sucking, flicking, back and forth, around and around—
“Oh my god,” you say, looking down at where you can see the top of his face, his eyes closed as he works, as he moans, as he squeezes your thighs in his hands and drags his tongue all over you.   You grip the headboard tight when you come, throwing your head back and grinding down against him. 
You lift your hips off his face, hovering above him on shaky thighs.   You shuffle back and sit on his abdomen so you can see him, his eyes wide and wet mouth open as he pants.  He licks his lips and murmurs please, please, please in a hoarse voice. 
“Please?” you repeat, a little out of breath as well. 
You swirl your fingers over his bare chest and fiddle with the t-shirt still bunched under his chin.  He moves his face wherever you push it, tipping his head back, tilting it to the side.  He goes cross-eyed when your fingers dance in front of him, touching his lips.  His mouth falls open and his eyes close when you slide two fingers inside his mouth.  
“Please what, Jisung?” you ask, slowly finger-fucking his mouth.  “What do you want?”
He can’t speak around your fingers so he just whines, digging his fingers into the meat of your thighs. 
“Oh,” you say.  Your giggle is filled with genuine delight, even while your voice is rough.  “I see.  You want to put your dick inside me, baby?  Hmm?  You wanna say you’re sorry and that you’ll be good and let me ride you?” 
“Good, so good,” he says, drooling around your fingers when you slide them out.   He swallows hard, choking on nothing, then nods his head.  “Please, please.   Yes.” 
You lean down and kiss his wet mouth, a chaste peck.  You rub the corner of his lips, smiling at his closed eyes and wrecked expression. 
“Okay,” you say.  “Get ready for me then.”  
You have a string of condoms in your luggage, always tucked in the pocket in case of emergency.  Emergencies like a snow storm trapping you in bed with your former worst enemy turned lover. 
When you get back to him, Jisung is laying there completely naked, flushed and stroking himself as he watches you.   He lets you take his hand off his dick, holds you obediently when you guide his hands to your waist.   He kisses you when you lean down, a hot and heavy kiss as you straddle him again.   It ends when you push him flat and sit back, already grinning because you know you are about to short-circuit his brain.
“Wanna see a trick?” you say, and proceed to put the condom on him with your mouth.   You laugh when you see his face after, his mouth hanging open as he blinks at you. 
“You’re gonna kill me,” he says, but laughs a little. 
His head thunks back into the pillows when you guide him inside you.   You put your hands over his, holding them to your hips as you rock over him.   His chest lifts and falls and his eyes close as he concentrates on not rushing your pace.  He keeps holding your waist firmly when you slide your hands over his chest. 
“Look at me,” you say. 
He blinks his eyes open.  You smile.
“Good boy.” 
He makes a noise that sounds more pained than when you slapped him.  It lights up inside you like fire and you move faster, take him deeper.   You get a bit dizzy with how good it feels, his dick curving up to drive against the softest, most sensitive part of you, sending you hurtling towards another orgasm.  You rub yourself at the same time, looking down at him as he gasps and moans, as he holds your hips and fucks you back. 
You bring your hand to his neck and gently circle it, rubbing yourself harder when he whines with chest-deep desperation. 
“I—I’m gonna—oh god—” he says, squeezing your hips so tightly that you think it might bruise.  
It feels so good, his rough hands coupled with his dick hitting perfectly inside you.  Your whole body draws taut for its crest.   
“Don’t,” you say, laughing a little, not even to be mean but because it feels so good that you feel giddy.  You squeeze his throat and his hips get erratic under you.  “Not yet,” you say.  “Me first.”
“Oh my god,” he says, looking up at you with frantic eyes.  “I—I can’t—I’m gonna—”
“Jisung,” you say, squeezing his throat harder so he makes a choked-up sound that goes straight to your pussy.  “Are you gonna be good or bad?” 
“I’m—I’m—oh god.”
You stop touching yourself because you know he doesn’t stand a chance outlasting you.  You ride him through his orgasm, choking him as he spasms and moans and cries out.   His head lifts for a second, his eyes closed and brows furrowed, then he flops back down with an exhausted heave.  
His eyes open again, watery and huge. 
“Oh fuck,” he says, voice like gravel as you release his throat.  A deep breath shudders out of him.  “Oh… fuck,” he says, dreamily, smiling, then pouting.  “Oh! Fuck!” 
You giggle at him managing to say the same thing in three different voices. 
You slip your fingers into his hair and tug, yanking his head up.  He follows with a gasp. 
“I should hit you again for that,” you say. 
You slide off him, carefully.  He sucks in a ragged, tearful breath when you touch his dick to deal with the condom.  After, you rub your palm on the oversensitive head of it, making him grab at you and cry out.   It squeezes a tear out of him and you kiss it away. 
“Come on,” you say, grabbing him by the hair again.  You get off the bed and drag him to follow.  “I’m not done with you.” 
He is a little shaky and boneless from coming.  His footing is unsteady from the moment he touches the ground, moving with thoughtless obedience.  He thumps down heavily onto his knees.  When he sways, you straighten him.  He blinks up at you, on his knees, already nodding. 
You put your leg over his shoulder and draw him in.  For the second time, he gets you off with his mouth, his hands on your ass and his face buried in your pussy.  You sink your fingers in his hair and let it wash over you, humming happily when you are finished. 
You lower your leg off his shoulder.  Jisung slumps backwards, leaning against the bed and breathing hard, his face and hair a mess. 
“Wow,” he says.  He looks up at you.  “That was the hottest thing that’s ever happened to me.” 
You laugh, feeling hot and flushed but satisfied.  
“Me too,” you say, making him smile. 
You help him back into the bed because his legs seem a little numb.  You lay beside him, rubbing the inside of his thigh as he kisses all over your face.   You giggle then fall into a proper kiss, winding around each other affectionately.  
“I’m gonna send Chan a gift basket,” Jisung says, making you snort.  “I am!  Thank you for having a family emergency, your timing couldn’t be better.”
You tip your head and look at him with confusion.
“Family emergency?” you say.  “He told me he was working?”
“Working?”  Jisung furrows his brow.  “Huh?  We don’t have anything coming up at work.  He phoned me from the road and said he was heading out to visit family?  He said he wouldn’t be back all week-end.” 
“He told me he was stuck working and would see me tomorrow,” you say, your eyes narrowing as you slowly put two-and-two and together.  
“I didn’t even know why he was asking me and not Changbin or something,” Jisung continues to muse aloud.  “He said you were wanting to talk to me, though, so I figured—”
“I never said that!  I mean, I’m glad we did but…”  You sit up, glaring at the wall.
Jisung bursts into laughter, covering his mouth as he looks at you. 
“Did Chan hustle us?” he asks. 
“He threw us together in a snow storm so we’d be forced to reconcile!”
“I don’t think Chan can control the weather—”
“Oh, he definitely can.  I bet he delayed the bridge himself—”
Jisung laughs some more, kissing the side of your face lovingly while you continue to glare contemptuously at the wall. 
“Well,” you say, looking at him.  You kiss him sweetly on the nose and he smiles at you.  “That’s fine,” you say.  “A vacancy for my sworn enemy just opened up.  Looks like I found a replacement.” 
“I’m good with that,” Jisung says.  “But… you’re not allowed to enemy-fuck him like that.  That’s just for me, right?” 
You settle in his arms, forgetting about Chan for the time being, forgetting to glare, forgetting about everything that happened before tonight.  You smile at him, brushing a bit of hair off his sweaty forehead.  He is still flushed and beautiful, his hopeful eyes locked on yours.  He smiles back. 
“Yeah,” you say.  “It’s only ever been just you, Jisung.” 
He visibly melts, his laugh a breathless thing.  He leans in and kisses you and you hold his face, kissing him back.  You can feel him smiling against your lips and you smile too. 
5K notes · View notes
seijorhi · 8 months
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Etched in Red: Vermillion (Part One)
Event Masterlist
Okkotsu Yuuta x female reader
Part Two
w.c 1.4k
tw: yandere themes, kidnapping, implied dub/non-con, non-explicit gore
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There’s nothing… wrong with being weak.
It isn’t a moral failing or anything to be ashamed of, it just is. For most people – normal people – that’s okay. They accept it, adjust their lives accordingly and move on. 
The thing is, most people don’t actually need to be strong, not in the physical sense. 
Most people aren’t jujutsu sorcerers.
Yuuta frowns, watching you laugh as Inumaki offers a hand to haul you up to your feet, brushing the dirt and grass of your skirt once you’re upright. Another sparring session that ends the exact same way all of them do; you, flat on your ass, wholly at the mercy of whichever of his friends is standing over you.
Problem is, they’re going easy on you; Maki leaving her left side wide open, Panda practically telegraphing his hits. Lately, he’s noticed it with Yuji and the other second years, too. It’s like an unwritten rule that they never go too hard, never push you too far. Trying to help you without hurting you in the process.
Because the simple, painful truth is, you aren’t strong enough to take it.
And believe it or not, he does get it… sort of. When Gojo dragged him into this he was petrified. Useless. He got thrown in the deep end, first first with Maki and then with Inumaki, and he had to figure it out fast, but… he also had Rika. 
He also had his cursed technique. 
Three years in, with graduation looming, you’re a step above a window. Still a grade four, although unlike with Maki it’s not some political, sexist bullshit keeping you there.
For right now, that’s okay. They’re your friends, none of them think any worse of you for it. They cover you on the missions you’re sent out on, and that’s not gonna change any time soon, but–
“Everything okay, Yuuta?”
He exhales a shuddering breath then straightens and turns your way with a smile. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m fine. Are you?” he asks, idly toeing at a rock by his feet. Maybe you won’t notice the flush colouring his cheeks. “Looked like you hit the ground pretty hard back there.” 
You laugh, waving it off like it’s no big deal, and to be fair it isn’t – you go through this multiple times a week, but that doesn’t mean it rankles him any less when you say, “Nothing I can’t handle. Toge was taking it easy on me.”
You don’t know the half of it. 
“C’mon,” you tell him. “Panda says you’re up.”
Forty minutes later, breathless, aching and bruised all over, Yuuta shuffles with you and the others back to the dormitories to shower before eating when a familiar head of white hair pops into view.
“Yuuu-taa,” Gojo greets in a sing-song voice, altogether too happy for the group of exhausted, hungry students glaring back at him. “A word?”
Not remotely a request, considering he’s got an arm looped over Yuuta’s shoulders, steering him away from the rest of the group before he can get so much as a word out. 
Leading him into an empty classroom well away from the dormitories, Gojo props himself up against one of the desks, leaving Yuuta to stand awkwardly in front of him, trying his best not to feel like a misbehaving child about to be lectured. 
When he speaks, there’s no trace of levity left to soften the blow. “What happened?” 
Gojo isn’t talking about the training session outside.  
Yuuta swallows, stiffening. “It doesn’t matter, does it? You read the report. As long as she’s with me, Rika and I–”
“So you expect the higher ups to send you along on every mission she’s assigned?”
His cheeks flush again, this time with indignation. “They can’t send her alone! She’s not– she… ” Isn’t strong enough.
At his floundering, Gojo lets out a heavy, over-dramatic sigh, as if the weight of the world rests on his shoulders alone. “Yuuta, you’re a special grade. Do you really think they’ll let you play babysitter just because you have a crush?”
His heart squeezes, a thick lump lodging itself in his throat. He doesn’t deny it, there’s no point. Blindfolded or not, Gojo sees everything.
Not that his Sensei has room to talk about crushes. 
“I don’t care, I’ll go anyway! I’m not letting her get hurt.”
“Special grade or not, you won’t be able to stop it,” Gojo tells him, a strange sort of smile teasing at his lips. “They’ll smell her coming a mile away, that inexperience, overconfidence. Such a weak, tasty little sorcerer. Easy pickings. She’ll draw them in like flies to honey, one after another, until there’s too many to fight all at once – that’s what happened last time, didn’t it? You lost focus.”
Yuuta stills entirely. 
Gojo tugs at the bandages over his eyes, revealing one brilliant, blue iris. “She dies. That’s the only way this goes. You understand that, don’t you?”
It kills Yuuta that Gojo turns out to be right.
The body lying on the cold, metal table can barely be called that. Half a torso and a leg. That’s all he got back after getting rid of the curse. 
“Okkotsu,” Ieiri’s calm voice breaks through his reverie, and he glances up to find her tired eyes boring into him from across the room. If he didn’t know better, he’d almost think she looked concerned.
“‘m fine,” he mumbles, letting his head tilt back to fall against the cool tiles. “I’m not the one who died.”
Ieiri opens her mouth, only to close it a moment later. “Of course.”
And so it goes. Inumaki, Panda and Maki hover, quiet and subdued. No one knows what to say, but none of them are surprised, he can tell that much through the thick, strained silence. 
Death is pretty much a constant for them. Jujutsu sorcerers don’t tend to lead long, happy lives, but this isn’t just losing a classmate seven days out from graduation. A pang squeezes at his chest and he doesn’t bother holding back a heavy exhale. 
“I’m tired. I’ll… catch you guys later, I guess.”
Yuuta doesn’t wait for an acknowledgement, turning on his heel and leaving them there outside the gym, staring uselessly after him.
But he doesn’t head back to his room. There’s nothing for him there. 
No, Yuuta walks for a long, long while. Back to civilisation, to the city teeming with people and curses, each step more surefooted, eager than the last.
By the time he reaches the apartment, he’s pounding the pavement, and takes the stairs two at a time. His hand shakes as he slots the key into the first lock and twists, then the second, his heart’s halfway to his throat when he pushes it open, heading straight for the bedroom–
The knot in his chest loosens, a relieved sigh escaping him at the sight of you, spread out in his sheets in nothing but your underwear, fast asleep. Safe, where he left you.
It takes him no time at all to toe out of his sneakers, shed his jacket and climb up onto the bed next to you, mindful not to jostle you too much, not to disturb the thick metal links coiled loosely at the bottom of the mattress. Your eyes are still puffy, cheeks wet with the sheen of tears when his fingertips glide over them, intent on smoothing your hair back from your face. 
Poor thing, you must’ve tired yourself out. 
Yuuta has every intention of letting you sleep for a little while longer yet – he’d meant what he’d said to Maki and the others, there’s a bone tired weariness that’s been clinging to him since he dragged himself back to campus that morning, and it’s only now, here, lying next to you that he feels it start to leach away, like poison syphoned off. 
A small, soft smile tugs at his lips. 
Perfect, beautiful girl. 
Gojo was right. You had to die. There aren’t enough sorcerers to deal with the increased curses plaguing the city. Weak or not, they would’ve kept sending you out, and he wouldn’t always be able to guarantee that he’d be there to protect you.
You had to die so they’d leave you alone. So that he could keep you safe. 
Nestling closer, he thumbs at the curve of your cheekbone again and brushes a kiss against your lips, doing his best to ignore the hot pulse of want that burns through his blood, coiling tightly in his guts. 
There’ll be plenty of time for that later. For now he just wants to lie here with you, safe and tucked away. Together. 
It’s better this way. You’ll see.
569 notes · View notes
captain-joongz · 7 months
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Cream soda
Pairing: non-idol!Baekhyun x f!reader
Genre: annoyances to lovers, friends to lovers, smut, fluff
Word count: 6.6k
Summary: Baekhyun eats your pussy in the backseat of his car. That's pretty much it.
Warnings: reader is a little bratty at first, subby reader, dom-ish Baekhyun, dirty talk (i am so weak for this man, i didn't even have control over what came outta his mouth), some allusions to slight humiliation, overuse of petnames, fingering, oral (both f and m receiving), deepthroating, face fucking, cum eating
A/N: okay, this was a little unplanned. i was just watching exo cream soda moments and then suddenly thoughts of this man wouldn't leave me until i put this into words, so enjoy this impromptu piece as a little gift inbetween the scheduled content
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„Ugh, I should have hitched a ride with Kai and Sehun,” I muttered under my breath as I side-eyed Baekhyun behind the wheel loudly belting out effortless high notes along to some pop song playing on the radio. The man in question giggled with his high voice and continued singing even louder, throwing amused looks my way with a mischievous smirk.
“Come on, princess, I know you love spending time with me,” he teased, lips shaping into a sly grin and eyes flitting between me and the road. I scoffed and folded my arms over my chest and looked out of the window sulkily.
“Yeah, when you’re quiet,” I murmured, which made Baekhyun laugh at me again and continue amusing himself with singing. I wouldn’t admit it to him out loud, lest I inflate his already humongous ego even more, but I did find myself awed with his voice every time he just casually started singing as if he was paid to do it. Outwardly I scowled, but I did like to listen to him when he did, which was always, as it seemed the man was incapable of shutting up.
Me and Baekhyun were kind of distaste at first sight. I’d gotten to know Kai in a dance class I took up in my free time and he occasionally came in to teach, and we made friends right away, the young dancer’s shy and genuine personality making it impossible to not love him. Before I knew it, I spent most of my Wednesday’s classes giggling away in a corner with him, trading stupid jokes and laughing at tom-foolery we came up with. I was kind of hopeless at dancing, but Kai made it so much fun I just loved coming back every week even though I knew I would definitely never learn to dance as he did. He was the one who taught me having fun and loving that I’m moving is more important than trying to be perfect, and I approached those classes with a free spirit and desire for a good time.
In time I started hanging out with Jongin even outside of those Wednesday’s evenings and gradually was introduced to most of his friend group, most of the time hanging out with him and Sehun, occasionally Chanyeol tagging along.
When I finally met all eight of them, it was at Jongin’s birthday party. I was sat next to Junmyeon, holding polite conversation with him about our respective careers, when Baekhyun arrived. Really, I could hear him long before the door even opened, but when it did, it was pure chaos. He waltzed in, dressed to the nines, screaming something and immediately running over to the youngsters and hugging them. For the whole evening, no matter where I was sitting or who I was talking to, there seemed to be a constant Baekhyun hum in the background. I could just always hear him and even though I barely talked to him, I knew everything he said to every single person in the room, because he was just incapable of speaking at a lower volume. And even worse, his energy and aura just drew my eyes and I found myself slipping and watching him interact with others, all wide smiles, silly antics and loud laughs. By the time I was walking home through the night city, the sound of his teasing voice and carefree giggles were ingrained into my brain, ringing like an echo even though I was long gone from his company.
So, the next time I was invited to another event with all of Jongin’s hyungs, I went in already a little annoyed with the man, which was made even worse by the fact that I got stuck sitting next to him. He would tease me, joke about everything I said and randomly butt into conversations I had with others. After hours of sitting next to him, I was at my Baekhyun limit.
Now, with time as we hung out more as a group, I’d gotten more used to him and even found myself laughing at his shenanigans, but my pride didn’t allow me to show it, especially since he started teasing me about being so uptight and never joking around with them. I would just find myself immediately ticked off anytime I could see his eyes fall onto me and that infuriating self-pleased smirk spread on his lips, brain already coming up with ways to embarrass me (I wasn’t actually embarrassed, and I had a feeling Baekhyun knew that otherwise he’d stop, but I wouldn’t say that out loud. I guess there’s just a lot of things I wouldn’t admit to him.). I enjoyed our little “rivalry” and learnt to balance Baekhyun’s wild energy with cold stares and deadpan delivery of sarcastic remarks. All in all, we actually worked quite well together.
That being said, I still did find him annoying. Especially when he rolled into events dressed in a way that accentuated every little attractive detail about him (and there were many) and threw his trademark smirks with hints and teases of tongue at anyone he pleased. I’d seen him in so many white or black tees that either perfectly showed off his biceps or teased his chiselled chest, with pretty necklaces and chains that drew attention to his neck and sharp jawline. More often than not I found myself going absolutely crazy with just one look at him, only to immediately want to smack him the moment he opened his mouth. Being around him was always just a whirlwind of confused lust and irritation.
Tonight was no exception.
Around new years there started to be talks of taking one extended weekend in the spring, renting out a nice loft somewhere in the woods and going there to drink and have fun. When the time came, we only had to decide who would ride with who. I originally was meant to go with Kai and Sehun, but they both wanted to take their girlfriends and in the end I couldn’t squish into the car with them, even though we tried. I attempted to ask the other boys, but mostly their cars were completely full with either people or supplies and couldn’t take on more baggage and an extra person. At this point Baekhyun stepped in and offered, because he had a car (I did not, I rode a bike most days and didn’t get a license for cars) and even though he originally planned to go with Chanyeol, it would be easier for him to go in his own and take me too. I reluctantly agreed. It was one thing to be spending time with him when there were other people present, but being shut in the car with him for hours, I had no idea how much I would be able to take.
I knew I was in for a wild ride (pun not intended) when he showed up dressed in washed out jeans with white streaks and splashes, white tee and a black lather jacket with snakeskin motive, his usual chains and necklaces contrasting with his smooth skin, teasing his neck and collarbone, and his white and black hair styled perfectly around his sharp beautiful face. He was leaning against his sleek black car with a smug grin and my knees were weak the moment I spotted him. So here I was, hours later, listening to him sing his heart out while looking like a fucking model and annoying the shit out of me.
It was already dark outside and I was getting antsy. We should have been getting closer but somehow our destination was still god knows how many kilometres away. I was hoping we could get there in time for dinner and a good night’s sleep, as tomorrow we a had lot planned, but several hours and two turn-backs later I started giving up hope.
“Are we even getting closer or are you just going to keep me in this car listening to your singing for the entire night?” I grumbled sharply and Baekhyun turned to me with a self-assured grin.
“Don’t worry, we’ll be there soon,” he answered with a wink, “you’re pretty grumpy when you get hungry, I’d prefer to feed you before I get my head bitten off.” Just then his phone beeped and the maps app started flashing a warning that he was no longer getting any signal and couldn’t be tracked. I groaned loudly while Baekhyun just cursed at it and pulled over at the first available spot. We were currently somewhere in the mountains, on the tiny little winding roads with little space. According to the surroundings, we should be close to the cabin, but for the love of god we just couldn’t find our way there, and the reason was the stupid fucking phone Baekhyun was currently furiously tapping while cursing under his breath. I sighed again and watched him lose a battle to the piece of technology.
“I swear I’m usually a really responsible chauffeur, it’s just because my phone is broken,” the white haired man said with a little nervous laugh, “It seems to be having trouble getting signal and therefore the GPS doesn’t work.” I just looked at him wordlessly, tired and annoyed, and raised my eyebrow.
“Okay, Miss Mad-at-the-world, pull out your phone then, let’s use your GPS,” Baekhyun joked, but I could hear an undertone of annoyance in his voice, which made me instantly angry. I did pull my phone out and unlocked it and then tapped with my finger to the right top corner. It read 10 % battery. This time it was Baekhyun who groaned loudly and then hit his head lightly on the top of the steering wheel.
“Well, then this might be the end of our journey,” he admitted sheepishly, “at least until my phone starts cooperating again.”
“You’re fucking kidding me,” I growled, the anger finally getting the better of me. Baekhyun looked at me sharply, his squinted eyes showing displeasure at my tone.
“I’m not happy about it either, you think I wanna be stuck in a car?” he spit back, just as fired up, “I’m hungry and I wanna sit down on a couch and watch a movie.” I threw a glare at him and then turned around to stubbornly look out the window, continuing my grumbling.
“God, I knew that driving with you was going to be trouble, I should have just pushed my way into Sehun’s car,” I mumbled petulantly, admittedly acting just a tiny bit like a little kid, “This is all because of you and your stupid broken phone.”
At this, Baekhyun groaned, his head thrown back hitting the seat as his hands flexed into the steering wheel. I watched it unfold in the reflection of the window and suddenly found a spark of a different heat running through my veins. I shuddered and squeezed my thighs together, surprised by the force of the unexpected arousal. Baekhyun was none the wiser, as he launched into an angry spiel.
“God, why do you always get so angry with me?!” he asked incredulously, “Every time I think we’re finally getting better, you go and get annoyed with me for no fucking reason! Even Jongin came to me and asked if I did something to you and you just didn’t want to tell him! I had to very embarrassingly explain to him that I didn’t know either why you just seem to hate me and only me!” Shame flooded me at my behaviour and I realised that of course everyone else seemed to pick up at my weird attitude when it came to this man. I truly found myself regretful at how genuinely upset Baekhyun seemed to be about not knowing what he did to irk me, especially since it was mostly my problem with how he made me feel than him actually doing anything irksome, but at that moment my brain was so overridden by lust that I couldn’t even tell him anything, because it felt as if I was melting and I couldn’t muster up a single thought except for how much I wanted to fucking jump him, months of repressed longing coming to the surface after I’d had to spend hours watching him be effortlessly attractive while driving.
“So tell me, what did I ever do to you?” Baekhyun exclaimed and turned to look at me, only to promptly freeze. I was already looking at him, having abandoned the window the moment he started talking, and suddenly anxiousness filled me at his expression. I was breathing quite hard and hoped it wasn’t as loud as I feared, the blush spilling over my face down my neck.
Baekhyun must have seen something in my unguarded expression, because suddenly he was relaxing into his seat, his previous anger and frustration melting into a smug smirk. I nervously fiddled with the edge of my skirt, embarrassment flooding me.
“I see,” he purred, his eyes flitted over my figure and filled with desire, “I understand now.” Then he abruptly leaned over to my side, one of his hands falling onto my thigh and gently squeezing, the other leaning onto the top of my seat, fingers tangling softly into my hair. Before I could stop myself, I let out a quiet little whimper, thighs squeezing on instinct, trapping his hand halfway between my legs. It felt as if our faces were just millimetres apart, breath mingling and lips almost brushing each other. I was entranced by his eyes, darkened by lust, expression suddenly sharpened by the arousal that was palpable in the air.
Then he chuckled, a shit-eating grin slipping onto his face, and pulled away. I took a deep breath, suddenly realising I stopped when he descended into my personal space. Baekhyun gave me a cheeky wink and started unbuckling his seat belt. Before I even processed what was happening, he was stepping out of the car into the dark.
When I wasn’t moving, he bent down a little and looked at me through the open door, the grin still held fast on his face.
“What are you waiting for, princess? Get into the back seat.” His voice kept the teasing lilt, but there was a rough undertone to it and it did something to me, heat spreading rapidly through every pore of my being. He stepped back and the door slammed shut. Before I could think about it, I unbuckled as well and launched myself back through the little gap between the seats. When Baekhyun opened the door, I was already sitting there, waiting for him with wide eyes and mouth agape, hair and clothes messed up from the struggle and breathing heavily. He froze for a second and then started laughing as he crawled in onto the furnishing.
“How eager,” Baekhyun purred, his beautiful face twisting with a little twinge of aroused savageness, clearly getting off on my obedience and lust. I felt my pussy throb at his words and the tone of his voice, fingers digging into the flesh of my thighs in anticipation.
“Lay down on your back, princess,” Baekhyun instructed me and started taking off his leather jacket, his gaze following my every movement as I started shuffling to make enough space. I ended up having to spread my thighs to make enough space for the kneeling man, but still had to awkwardly lean my head in a sharp angle on the door behind me. This had my skirt falling back and basically revealing my black underwear to his hungry eyes.
I whimpered again, hands flexing in my lap, inadvertently bunching up the fabric of the skirt even more. At the sound Baekhyun’s gaze snapped to my face, a predatory smirk on his lips painting him in a completely different light than I’d been used to. For some reason I was expecting him to keep his light-hearted teasing persona even in bed, so I was wholly unprepared for this sudden dark lustful aura that seemed to consume him from the inside out.
Knowing he had my full attention, his hands suddenly grasped my ankles, startling a gasp out of me at the unexpected contact, and then his fingers lightly, teasingly made their way up to my knees. He tapped there a few times, watching their journey fascinated, before they continued on down the inside of my thighs. My legs twitched a little, a gush of wetness hitting my now completely soaked panties, while I waited with bated breath for his next move.
“You should have told me sooner, baby, I would have fucked the attitude out of you months ago,” Baekhyun’s voice rough with arousal suddenly rung out through the silent car and hit me to my core, cunt tightening around nothing at the lewdness of his words.
Before I could even reply, his hand pressed onto my wet clothed heat, fingers teasing the slit with slight pressure, and I moaned loudly, back arching off of the seats. My body was reacting to his presence and touch so viscerally it would almost scare me if I had the mental capacity to think about anything else than his fingers near my pussy.
I watched as his tongue darted out to lick his lips, his eyes trained on his hand playing with my panties, a whimper falling out of me when I imagined it between my legs. Baekhyun didn’t seem to be paying me much attention, rather focused on feeling out my pussy through my underwear. His other hand discreetly moved down his own body and squeezed his crotch, a shudder wracking through his body, eyes falling close with a pleased little sigh. I replied to the sight with a moan of my own, my mouth falling open as the last of my thoughts trickled out of my mind and were completely replaced by the vision that was Baekhyun pleasuring himself in front of me.
He peeked at me, watching me from under half-lidded eyes, the smirk on his face turning a little sharper. I was a little embarrassed by how easy it was for him to completely deconstruct me to a whimpering mess, and he barely even did anything, but clearly it was doing wonders for Baekhyun’s ego as he was exuding smugness while looking down on me. It made him look so powerful, like me and my pleasure were beneath him and I should be glad that he was even touching me in the first place, and that thought made me moan again, eyes rolling back into my head as I arched and pressed my pussy more onto his fingers.
He chuckled and obliged, pushing my panties to the side and running his fingers through my wet slit, thumb circling my clit while two of his fingers played with my entrance. I moaned and gasped, my whole body trembling with delicious tension as the waves of pleasure finally hit me full force.
“Please,” I gasped out, pussy pulsing with Baekhyun’s incessant teasing, “God, Baekhyun, please do something.” His fingers suddenly plunged in, but I was so wet and ready, they went in with no problem at all. A high pitched moan left my mouth and I gripped the edge of the seat. Everything seemed to spin along with the circles Baekhyun’s thumb was doing on my clit and I felt my sanity slowly slipping away, as the tingling feeling filled my whole body.
His fingers were just perfect, thick and a little bony, pretty and elegant, filling me in a way I was craving for months, and as he started unhurriedly pumping them in and out, I gasped and sighed and moaned with the mounting pleasure. For a moment I let myself be carried by the wave, eyes closed mouth opened just riding the burning feeling coiling in my belly, but then he stopped and pulled his hand away. Before I could stop myself I whined, long and drawn pitiful sound that made Baekhyun teasingly sneer at me with delight.
“Don’t cry, princess,” he whispered, voice rough and deeper than usual, “I’m just trying to figure out what you need.” With that he shifted and my attention was brought back to the bulge in his own pants, but he snapped his fingers, drawing my eyes back to his face. I felt myself blush at the open hunger and amusement in his gaze, knowing what I’d been looking at.
“Tell me, pretty girl,” Baekhyun continued, leaning a bit forward so he could look down on me with more of an impact. I whimpered and my thighs spasmed. His hand grabbed onto one and stabilised it with a soft caress. “Do you want my fingers? Hmm?” he asked with a faux curiosity on his handsome sharp face, “Or maybe something else?” His tongue poked out of his mouth again and unwittingly I gasped and nodded slightly before I could even think about it.
Baekhyun’s face crumpled into a smug smirk again, all sympathy draining out and getting replaced by pure hunger and lust. A bolt of desire pulsed through my entire body so strong I was surprised I didn’t physically jerk. Then he bent slightly over, kissing the skin of my knee. His eyes, ever so vigilant, watched hungrily for my reaction, and when I gasped slightly and tensed in his hold, it seemed to satisfy him enough. Slowly his lips made their way down the inside of my thigh, leaving wet open-mouthed kisses in their wake, until he reached my quivering centre, still covered by underwear.
He latched onto my clothed pussy, tongue pressing into the slit, putting pressure on my clit and licking around the edges of my panties. I tensed again, whole body shaking and anticipation and excitement flooding through my veins. But Baekhyun was suddenly in his teasing mood again and after a few moments of playing around with my clit with the tip of his tongue, he pulled away again. I didn’t even have time to whine though, as he immediately grabbed my underwear and swiftly pulled it off, leaving my pussy bared to him.
Instead of diving in, he chose to take the same path down the other thigh, but this time he was a lot less gentle, rushing down the expanse of the skin, leaving little bites and groaning lightly into the flesh, until he once again found himself buried in my pussy. The shock of his tongue licking a long stripe from my entrance up to my clit made me heave out a loud breath on a groan, body convulsing.
Now he wasted no time, suddenly seemingly as desperate to have me cumming as I was, his tongue wreaked havoc on me, sliding through my folds until it was lightly circling my clit before his lips latched onto it and sucked harshly. I was mindlessly laying there, twitching and shuddering, mouth open on a constant stream of quiet moans as he ate me out wildly.
He alternated between playing with my clit with his tongue and sucking on it with such force it left me breathless, before he slid lower and circled my entrance, moaning loudly into my cunt as his hands gripped my thighs tighter, leaving red indents of his nails. His head moved with the motion, bobbing excitedly as he licked me to my clit again before plunging his tongue in my hole without any warning.
It was such an onslaught of sensations I found myself barely hanging on, the fire in my lower belly consuming everything in its path and filling my veins with molten gold. I stopped caring about what kind of noises leave my mouth and gave myself over to the feeling of his tongue fucking into me in rough motions, nose bumping into my clit making me see stars. Blindly I reached over and grabbed his hair, tugging on it harshly and that had Baekhyun loudly groaning into my pussy, hands massaging my thighs as if he was holding on for dear life.
It was such a hot experience I could feel myself hurling closer to the edge, but I just needed an extra push. I used the grip on the hair as leverage and pulled Baekhyun away from my cunt. He looked at me, his fucked out expression bleeding into slight annoyance at getting interrupted. He looked a mess, the lower half of his face wet with my juices, lips shiny and red, tongue peeking out like he was a dog in heat. A blush was spread over his face, but spilled lower over his collarbones which were visible in the stretched out collar.
I pulled his head and pushed his mouth to my clit again. Without thinking, he immediately latched on and started sucking on it in between flicking it with his tongue, circling it and playing with it before giving it some rougher treatment. I moaned loudly, barely holding onto any thought, hand still holding him in place. When he wanted to move lower, his hair got pulled again and a debauched groan left his lips before he smirked at me.
“Suddenly turned all demanding, huh?” he said and teasingly licked through my folds as far as he could reach, “What is it baby, am I not doing enough?” I attempted to look at him, but I was already half gone, just desperately needing to come as soon as possible.
“Your fingers too, please,” I gasped out and with a single grin the man obliged immediately. Before I could process his lips on my cunt again, two fingers were plunged as deep as they could go into my heat. I nearly screamed out, but managed to turn it into a drawn out moan, legs falling open as far as I could push them. Baekhyun groaned in answer and then started harshly fucking me with them, curling them slightly to hit the sweet spot. Which he did, again and again and again. With a couple of flicks he had me losing my mind in the damn backseat of his car, on the cusp of cumming just from seeing his eyes drink up my own lust.
The car was suddenly filled with the sound of his muffled moaning, wet squelching of his fingers pumping furiously into my cunt and my own moans and sighs. I arched again, pushing my pussy into his face, into his fingers, so close to falling over that edge. I could barely think, barely hear, barely see, walls of my cunt spasming around him and milking his fingers of all their worth.
Baekhyun moaned again, hips moving on their own against one of my legs. I could feel his hard cock straining through the jeans and I loved knowing this was driving him just as wild, but I couldn’t hold that thought for long because suddenly he paired a couple of harsh pumps of his fingers with a hard flick and a long drawn-out sucking on my clit and I was launched into my climax, crashing into it so hard my hands flexed and had him groaning in pain and pleasure, hips stuttering against me.
The added vibration of his pleasured sounds carried me through it hard and I cried out, hips jerking against his face, the orgasm washing through my body in one huge tidal wave, white spots dancing behind my lids as I pressed them shut. The pleasure wrecked through me with a few quieter moans, leaving my thighs trembling. Then my whole body slumped down, the muscles relaxing and turning me into a rag doll.
I could hear Baekhyun breathing loudly, licking lightly at my spent pussy until I used my hand to pull him away again. He smirked at me, pulling my hand away from his white and black hair and sat back on his heels. His hands worked fast on his belt and zipper and I watched him utterly fascinated as he pulled his cock out, his hand frantically moving up and down the length as he chased his own pleasure.
I loved the sight, his cock was just as pretty as Baekhyun himself was, thick and curved with a tip flushed red, wet from pre-cum. I felt the fire burn low in my belly again, excitement making itself known through the tingling feeling spreading through my cunt. I moved faster than I was able to comprehend, suddenly kneeling in front of him with Baekhyun pushed against the door. I looked at him once with a mischievous expression and that was all the warning he got before I pulled his hand away and put his cock halfway down my throat.
He groaned loudly, hands immediately flying to my hair, tugging on it just as harshly as payback, and I moaned just as loudly in return, the sensation making him choke on a whimper. I was too eager, pushing myself to take him further into my mouth and in the process choking on his length, but I didn’t care. I just wanted to feel him in my throat. Baekhyun released a few raggedy moans, hands flexing in my hair and hips stuttering slightly, before he seemed to regain back some composure and decided to take control again.
His hand grabbed onto my hair a little harsher, getting a more solid grip before he stopped me from aimlessly choking on him. I looked up, completely ruined by lust and needing him to cum just as hard as I did. He smirked at me, pleased at my obedience.
“Gonna fuck your mouth, yeah princess?” he whispered roughly, hands once again getting a good grip, but his eyes waited for my confirmation. I blinked at him and tried to nod, which was pretty hard given my position but he seemed to understand.
His hips jumped a little forward as he was preparing himself to move and I cherished the feeling of his cock sliding deeper into my mouth, touching the edge of my throat. I breathed loudly through my nose, getting used to the feeling before Baekhyun started thrusting.
When he did, he started slow, with measured shallow thrusts that had barely half of his cock sliding into my mouth, but once I moaned and pushed against his hands holding me still, he got the memo and started earnestly fucking into mouth, hips languidly moving in elegant swerves and each thrust punching a high moan out of him. He tried to keep his eyes on me, but soon was too overwhelmed by the sensation and threw his head back as his hips kept relentlessly jerking forward, until I was choking on him on every thrust.
I concentrated on my breathing, but the throbbing trembling between my legs was making me delirious, moaning around the intrusion in my mouth and welcoming it back with every plunge, driving Baekhyun absolutely insane.
The car moved with the motion of his hips, swinging wildly from left to right, and if anybody passed by us, they would definitely know what was currently taking place inside. I could hear a quiet creaking of metal, lost behind the cacophony of Baekhyun’s long high pitched moans. His thrusts had gotten slower but harder, pushing into me until my face was smushed into his lower abdomen, the cock pulsing in my throat. I tried to swallow around it and a pitiful groan was punched out of Baekhyun’s mouth. I could feel he wouldn’t last much longer, his fingers digging into my hair tightly, hips losing rhythm and chasing after an orgasm, moans getting higher and higher.
I grabbed onto his thighs and my nails digging into the fabric of the jeans were no doubt felt through to his skin. His hands started guiding my head along his thrusts, pushing me into him on ever slide in. Drool dribbled out of my mouth, all over my chin and onto him, but he didn’t seem to mind.
With a few deep thrusts I could hear his stuttering breaths, the tightening of his balls before he stilled, cock pushed as deep as it could go pumping hot salty liquid down my throat. Baekhyun let out one last long moan, cumming in few hot squirts as his hips trembled and jerked lightly. I struggled to swallow around his length, stimulating the already sensitive head, punching out some whimpers out of him as his cum slipped out my lips and dribbled down my chin. My own cunt spasmed and throbbed with arousal, and I could feel the wetness sliding down my thighs, making me groan slightly.
He finally pulled out and his head lolled back to look at me. I barely had the presence of mind to look at him, eyes teary and face a mess of drool and cum. Something passed over his eyes and then he was suddenly pushing me down onto the seat, descending over me and kissing me harshly. I gasped and he immediately stuck his tongue into my mouth, no doubt tasting his release, but that didn’t seem to bother him, especially since he kissed me like a starved man.
I was so ready to cum again, too turned on from having him fuck my mouth to even pretend I didn’t need him again and he seemed to understand. With one hand he pulled up my shirt, lips migrating down my neck to mouth at my tits, while the other pressed between our bodies and without much preamble he plunged two fingers inside my hole again.
I whimpered, back arching and pushing my tits into his mouth, while my hips gyrated against his fingers attempting to ride them to completion. The madness at that point truly hit the boiling point as I didn’t need much at all and after a few rough well aimed thrusts combined with slight scraping of his teeth over my nipple I was cumming once again, this time my whole body spasmed and the pleasure was enough to tear a desperate scream out of my throat as I clamped down on his fingers, the ecstasy tearing through me with even more force than the first time. Baekhyun groaned a few times too, attempting to let me ride out the climax with some gentler strokes, before we both slumped down, the pleasant boneless feeling after a good orgasm getting us both.
Sound of harsh breathing was the only sound in the car as we both tried to get it back under control, our bodies cooling down. I was suddenly aware just how much cold wet release was all over my cunt and thighs, as well as a slight tick in my jaw was making itself known. Baekhyun pushed himself back on his knees and tucked himself back into his pants, tee haphazardly hanging off of him.
He gave me a winning smile with a touch of that smugness from before and then launched into motion. I rolled my eyes at him fondly, but let him do the aftercare, as I was still too drained to even move. Just as he was leaning over to the front seat trying to grab the packet of handkerchiefs to wipe me down, his phone suddenly started blaring through the silence of the car, scaring the both of us.
Baekhyun grabbed it and looked at it, then looked at me and said cheekily: “It seems that the signal is working again.” I just stuck my tongue out at him, to which he in turn started gesturing lewdly with his until I kicked him with a barely held back laugh.
The phone was still blaring, so he clicked the accept button and suddenly Jongin’s worried rambling was filling the silence of the car.
“Jesus christ, hyung!” he exclaimed, “We were so fucking scared! You were supposed to be here hours ago and none of us could reach either of you and we had no idea where you were!”
“Sorry, bear,” Baekhyun replied, though he didn’t sound nor looked very sorry, grinning at me while leisurely wiping my centre. I flushed with embarrassment, suddenly feeling shy now that Jongin was on the call. “My phone’s broken and Y/N’s died a while ago. We seem to be quite lost.”
“Are you anywhere close? I might be able to come and get you,” came Kai’s sweet reply, his voice full of relief now that we established we were alive and well. “I’m not sure, I think so,” Baekhyun told him and looked out the window. It was pointless, it was already dark outside and barely anything could be seen beyond the few dingy streetlights.
“My GPS kept fucking up, so we stopped by the side of the road for a little bit to see if it jumps back on, but I think we’re in the vicinity,” the man carried on explaining and I started searching for my discarded panties. When I bent over to fish them from underneath the driver’s seat, a hand made its way to my ass and caressed it gently. I flushed and ducked further to avoid looking at the smug bastard.
There was silence on the line, stretching until I started nervously twitching and turned back to sit next to Baekhyun. He watched me with a teasing glint to his eye and then winked.
“Uh-huh,” drawled out Jongin finally as an answer. I could hear in his voice he was suspicious and really, who could blame him. We disappeared, didn’t pick up phone calls and then Baekhyun tells him totally laid-back “oh yeah, phone’s broken and we’re somewhere on the side of the road” as if he was talking about what he was doing yesterday. I blushed again and slapped his shoulder lightly, earning a quiet amused chuckle.
“Okay hyung, stay there and send me your location while your phone works,” Jongin said, deadpan and clearly done with his shit, “and for fuck’s sake, be fully clothed when I get there.”
Baekhyun started loudly cackling while I slapped his shoulder some more in embarrassment. He snaked an arm around my waist and pulled me flush to his chest, giggling at me playfully.
“Got it! Thank you, Jonginnie~”
The man sighed and grumbled something about Baekhyun being a menace and then hung up. I immediately groaned and pushed my face into the white-haired man’s shoulder.
“They’ll never shut up about this,” I mumbled and melted into the feeling of Baekhyun’s fingers gently carding through my hair. He chuckled lightly, reverting back to his happy persona.
“Just be really shameless, it will be less fun for them to tease you,” he laughed, “Walk in like ‘yeah I sucked his dick, what of it?’” He made some crude gestures with his free hand and then laughed when I slapped it again.
“Let’s get back to the front seats before Kai gets here, or he’ll be traumatised,” I told him and pulled myself back through the gap. When I turned back, Baekhyun was giving me a hungry stare again and I shuddered, my body valiantly trying to get aroused again.
“You forgot something,” he whispered and suddenly my black panties were hanging in the space between our faces, tangled around his beautiful fingers. I flushed, realising I must have flashed him when I clambered back to the passenger seat, but I could already feel the beginnings of a fresh wet heat between my legs.
I gave Baekhyun a look, which he seemed to understand judging by the annoyingly hot self-assured smirk making its way back onto his face.
“How long do you think we have before Kai gets here?”
I guess we were going to find out.
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hope you enjoyed yourself <3
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dual1pa · 6 months
Text
"you're gonna make me fall in love with you"
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steve harrington x reader using she/her pronouns
A/N: ahh the sweet smell of a best friends to lovers fic <3
WARNINGS: 18+ ONLY PLEASE !! language, swimming in underwear (both reader & steve) kissing w/ tongue, boob grabbage, missionary position but no smut occurs
(doesn't follow plot of Stranger Things)
She placed her Converse-covered feet on the leather seat of her best friend, Steve Harrington's beat-up Chevy. He received the "piece of shit car," as he would say, from his parents as a graduation present years ago. It was originally his father's work truck, but he no longer needed it.
"At least you have a car, son," he told him.
All her attention was outside of the car as Steve drove them to their favorite spot at the lake. It seemed as if no one knew it existed since there was never a soul in sight, which was great for the two of them to get away from the hustle and bustle of their small town of Hawkins, Indiana.
The scenery of the drive there was something else - especially at sundown after a warm summer day when the sky was filled with yellow, orange, pink, and purple.
As her hair blew from the open window, she hummed along to Tiffany's 'I Think We're Alone Now' as Steve tapped his hands to the beat of the song on the steering wheel.
Steve pulled into a rocky area where he normally parks the car, went to grab a blanket out of the trunk, and led her to their favorite spot.
Normally, they didn't swim in the water, just lay on the fuzzy blanket, listened to the water and their favorite tunes from Steve’s portable radio, and stared up at the stars.
She and Seve have been friends since middle school, yes, even though his King Steve era where he thought he was better than everyone.
The two of them rarely had fights, and when they did, they quickly made up and went out to get ice cream or head to their favorite spot on the lake.
They found their spot on accident after participating in an extra credit assignment for Ms. Taylor's science class - since the both of them were failing at the time.
Now, a year later, they considered the spot theirs.
Just like usual, empty.
Steve tried his best to lay the teal blanket down flat, but the grass made it difficult.
She laid down first, then Steve. He watched her figure out her next thought as she stared up into the cloudless sky.
"What are you thinking about?" he asked, resting his body on his arm.
She turned her head to lock eyes with him and smiled, "I kinda wanna go swimming."
"I didn't bring a swimsuit," Steve sighed.
She chuckled, "Neither did I," quickly getting up and stripping off her T-shirt and jean shorts, leaving her in a bra and underwear.
Steve had seen her change a dozen times and she could care less as she had no shame about her body.
Without waiting for her friend, she ran into the cold but refreshing water. She dove under the small waves and resurfaced to find steve shoving his pants off, leaving him in plaid boxers.
Once he caught up to her, they enjoyed the water for a while longer then went to air dry on the blanket.
Steve reached for the radio to find a station playing a song they both liked. as if it was fate, one of their favorites played softly through the speaker.
He got up and started dancing and singing the lyrics, urging her to come join him on the imaginary dance floor.
She grabbed his hand to help her off the cozy blanket, grabbed her waist and started swaying back and forth. If she was honest with herself, she could picture a life with Steve.
She could imagine traveling with Steve, purchasing a home with him in the suburbs.
She pictured buying a cute little 3 bedroom home in the Indiana suburbs - definitely away from Hawkins. She pictured the bright green grass and being surrounded by nice neighbors and even getting a pet.
She pictured starting a family with him, though, she would never tell him that, unless the time was right.
Back in the moment, she couldn’t stop laughing at Steve’s horrible singing.
“stop it,” she leaned her head back and let out a loud laugh
“stop what? singing?” he didn’t listen and kept singing along.
“you’re gonna make me fall in love with you if you keep singing like that,” she smiled.
Steve blushed, “we’re literally slow dancing in our underwear, i hope you know that i’m already in love with you.”
That’s all she ever wanted to hear from her best friend, “i’m in love with you.”
He wasted no time to press his lips to hers. they were just how she imagined he would taste: a mix of mint toothpaste and the coffee he drinks daily.
she reached her hands up to comb through his damp brunette hair and moaned into his mouth, urging him to shove his tongue in her mouth.
he gripped her waist, then her butt, then her thighs to feel every inch of her, what he wanted to do for years.
the two laid back down on the blanket and continued their assault on each other. he fit right between her legs, but knew that she didn’t want their first time to be on the muddy ground.
to take a breath from their make out session, he rested his forehead on hers and smiled.
“can i call you mine? all mine?” he asked, placing a piece of hair behind her ear.
“that’s all i’ve wanted, steve harrington.”
he reached up to grab at her breast but she stopped before she got too turned on.
“as much as i want to, take me back to your place and take me in your bed?” she said, kissing his neck and down to his chest.
she’s never seen him pack up so quickly.
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newobsessionweekly · 6 months
Text
Stolen moments
Main masterlist | The Rookie masterlist
Tim Bradford x rookie!reader Fandom: The rookie
Summary: You and Tim find it difficult to have some sort of intimacy due to your busy schedules.
A/N: Here's another Tim one that I loved writing. Not really a fluff girl, but I think I wrote something cute. Hope you like it. Don't forget to leave your feedback, it'll help me. Have a great day bubs and lots of love! 🫧
Fluff
Warnings: Not proofread yet, that's it.
Requested: yes Words: 1.8k Requests for Tim are open! GIF not mine, credits to the owner!
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Being a rookie was intense. The constant struggle to keep yourself out of dangerous situations and, even more important, to manage them and go home safe and sound was exhausting. Gladly, your T.O. was understanding and his open, talkative personality helped you through when things get complicated.
John Nolan was a man that you trusted with your life and you grew closer, being not just your training officer, but a very important friend in your life. When between you and Tim things weren't going smoothly, he is your go to person. Mostly because you appreciate his advices and on the other hand because you're stuck with him every day, him reading you like a book.
You and Tim have been together for a few months now and it was clear as day that you adore that man with every breath. Tim is not far away from that, his love for you reflecting in his eyes, some might say he smiled in the last couple of months more than he ever did in his whole career at the station.
Music from Tim's car echoed through your mind as you embraced that still moment. No more people talking through the radio, no sirens whiling down the streets, no gunshots fired. Just you and Tim, singing along the radio, his hand resting on your lap as he squeezed it from time to time, sending chills down your spine, memories from the last night you'd spent together reddening your cheeks.
"I was thinking, maybe, you'd want to move in." Tim broke the silence as he checked the mirrors, his car making its way to the station. You hummed at his words, considering that. No more squeezing out your schedules, no more running around to see each other. More Tim tests on your time off work.
"I'll think about it. I love staying with Lucy though." you told him as he parked the car.
"Seriously? When's the last time you saw Lucy?" he quietly laughed.
"Yesterday."
"When's the last day you've been to your apartment?"
"Last..." you tried to remember what day it was. "Saturday."
"And now it's Friday." he pointed out the fact that you spent a whole week at his place.
"I'll think about it." you smiled at him, making him do the same as Tim was about to closed the distance between you two.
A loud knock on the window made you jump right before your lips could meet and Tim grinned at the sight of Lucy. "Speaking of the devil." he murmured frustrated under his breath, making you laugh as you went to greet her.
"Y/N, here's the mail from this week. Didn't know when you'd come home so I thought..." you thanked her, stuffing the envelopes in your purse. "Morning, officer Bradford." Lucy greeted Tim and he welcomed her with his grumpy face.
"Officer Chen" he didn't leave your side, hoping your best friend would disappear, but she grabbed your arm, rambling about her date, stealing you away from your boyfriend.
The morning briefing concluded, leaving a hasty window of respite before the day's duties would fully take hold. In that fleeting moment, you found yourself alone with Tim, the magnetic pull between you palpable in the air.
"Hey," your boyfriend murmured, his voice low and husky as he closed the distance between you. "Be safe out there today, okay?"
Seeing Tim so handsome in that uniform, made your heart skip a beat. His beautiful blue eyes searching you from head to toe, admiring your beauty and playing a wide smile on his lips. A smile that means sinful thoughts are running in his mind.
His words were a tender caress against your ear, sending shivers down your spine as you leaned in, drawn to him like a moth to a flame. Your heart quickened as his hand brushed against yours, the electricity of his touch sending sparks of desire coursing through your veins.
Before you could respond, the sound of approaching footsteps shattered the moment, jolting you back to reality. You turned to see Nolan standing before you, his expression expectant as he awaited your response.
"Ready for patrol, Y/N?" Nolan's voice cut through the air, breaking the intimate spell that had enveloped you and Tim.
You blinked, startled by the sudden intrusion, and turned to face your TO with a forced smile. "Yes, sir, ready to go."
Nolan glanced between you and Tim, his expression shifting from curiosity to understanding as he realized the tension that hung heavy in the air. "Sorry to interrupt," he said, his voice tinged with awkwardness. "I'll let you two carry on."
But before he could make his escape, Tim's voice cut through the silence, his tone laced with frustration and determination.
"Be careful out there, both of you," Tim said, his gaze fixed on you with a mix of concern and love. "And stay safe."
With a curt nod, Tim turned on his heel and made his exit, leaving you and Nolan standing in the wake of his departure. As you watched Tim disappear from sight, a swell of emotions washed over you—frustration at the interrupted moment, longing for the connection you shared with Tim, and gratitude for his unwavering concern for your safety.
Tim's frustration was touching the ceiling. Both of you had plans that night, leaving him longing for the next time you'd be alone again. A next time tagged with a question mark because of your chaotic lives. He wanted to have you close all the time, to make sure he can protect the woman he loved dearly. But above this excuse, Tim wants you close because he needs you. Every touch and little kiss stolen here and there gives him the strength to carry on with his life, gives him an anchor to hold on when things get messy.
The midday sun beat down on the bustling streets of LA as officers gathered around the street food area for their lunch break.
As you and Tim sat together at the table, the bustling activity around you seemed to fade into the background, leaving only the two of you in your own little bubble. Tim's touch was gentle yet possessive as he reached for your hand, his fingers intertwining with yours in a silent declaration of affection.
"You know, Y/N, I think moving in together could be a great step for us," Tim said, his voice soft and tender. "We already spend so much time together anyway, and it would make things so much easier."
You nodded, a small smile tugging at the corners of your lips as you leaned into his touch. "I know, Tim. It's just...a big step, you know? I want to make sure we're both ready for it."
Tim's gaze softened, his eyes filled with understanding as he squeezed your hand gently. "Copy that. We'll take things at your pace, okay? No rush."
His touch sent a thrill racing through you, igniting a warmth that spread from your fingertips to the depths of your soul. His thumb traced delicate patterns on the back of your hand, a tender gesture that spoke volumes without a word being spoken.
The connection between you and Tim was electric, a palpable energy that pulsed between you with each passing moment. His gaze was intense, his eyes filled with a mixture of desire and adoration as he leaned in closer, his lips tantalizingly close to yours.
You could feel the heat of his breath against your skin, the anticipation building to a fever pitch as you inched closer to each other. Just as your lips were about to meet, the voices of your beloved colleagues shattered the moment once more, leaving you both frustrated and longing for more.
"No, I mean is great that Henry is visiting me, don't get me wrong. But I feel like this weekend is going to fly by so fast and the chief already approved my OT for both days and I feel like we won't spend so much time together." Nolan ramble about his son and they sat down beside you and Tim.
"Tell me about it." your boyfriend scoffed as he caressed your thigh, his tone tinged with frustration.
For Tim, each interruption felt like a cruel twist of fate, a barrier preventing him from fully expressing the depth of his love for you. He yearned for the stolen moments, the brief glimpses of intimacy that left him craving more. With each interruption, his frustration grew, a silent plea echoing in his mind for just a few moments alone with you.
"I already spoke with him and he's gonna meet us tonight at the bar" you told John as you savoured the food in front of you.
"But I thought he's coming tomorrow." Nolan frowned and Tim raised his eyebrows at your words. He knew you meet them now and then after shift, but he didn't know that was your plan for tonight, instead of spending it with him.
The constant interruptions felt like a cruel reminder of the obstacles standing between you and Tim. You longed for the stolen kisses and whispered words, moments of intimacy that seemed to slip through your fingers before they could fully blossom. Each interruption left you feeling incomplete, aching for the chance to bask in Tim's presence without the prying eyes of your colleagues.
"Surprise."
As the lunch break drew to a close and the time came for you to return to patrol, Tim's frustration was palpable. He shot you a longing look, his eyes silently pleading for just a few more moments alone together.
He walked you to the shop and when you made sure Nolan was already inside and away from your whispering, you turned to him and intertwined your fingers together.
"So that's the plan you have tonight, huh?" he asked you, clearly not feeling very happy that you chose them over you. He had plans too, watching tonight's game with his friends. Some important game he said, but if it was to choose, he'd rather spend the night with you than watch it.
"Well, they asked me to join after you said you have plans. I thought maybe some time apart from each other would be nice." you admit.
"Some more time apart?" he questioned.
"Maybe it's best if I move in." you told him after Nolan informed you about a call that was just dispatched to you. Tim smiled, softly grabbing your cheeks, finally placing a kiss after long hours of watching you from distance.
"I'll see you tonight, Y/N," Tim said, his voice tinged with regret as he watched you leave. "Be safe out there, okay?"
You nodded, a bittersweet smile playing at the corners of your lips as you bid him farewell. And as you headed back out onto the streets, the memory of Tim's tender touch and loving gaze lingered in your mind, a reminder of the love that bound you together, even in the face of interruptions and obstacles.
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thebellearchives · 1 year
Note
For your event, fluff prompt 13 for gojo satoru please 👉👈
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𝐒𝐈𝐋𝐄𝐍𝐓
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~ satoru gojo ; jujutsu kaisen
✧˚ · . S Y N O P S I S : you’ve remained silent about your feelings for your long time friend Satoru for a while now, but when he’s the one being silent it’s suddenly not so normal
‧₊˚ c o n t e n t s : gn!reader, fluff, friends to lovers, reader is also a teacher at jujutsu high
‧₊˚ a / n : hope you like this anon because absolutely love how it turned out! i think it’s one of my favourite shots i’ve written!
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The view from the classroom’s window wasn’t exactly breathtaking. Your eyes examined the training grounds below, covered by the night sky and the wind blowing through the tree branches. Insomnia had been your most trusted companion for a while, so even though you were tired from the workday for some reason your brain wouldn’t stop buzzing. The classroom’s door opened, a sigh escaped your lips knowing perfectly who had closed it back and walked up to you.
Satoru decided to stand next to you, resting his lower back against the desk just like you had been doing for the past thirty minutes or so. Both of you stared at the calm scenery in a comfortable silence, you wondered how much longer would it take him to start talking but as time passed he didn’t say a single word. Restless, your eyes furtively glanced at him, but he remained silent and holding that characteristic smile of his.
“So?”
“So?”
“Why are you so quiet all of a sudden?” you chuckled, curiously searching for an answer in his hidden eyes.
“What? Can’t I enjoy a moment of tranquility with my dear friend?”
You tried not to show how sour his comment had tasted to you, holding your smile and shifting in your place.
“Yeah, friend” your eyes went back to the window and quickly followed the conversation somewhere else “this friend of mine isn’t usually so silent. In fact, I doubt he even knows what the words “shut up” mean.”
The sorcerer snickered, jumping up and sitting on top of the desk.
“Just say you miss my beautiful voice.”
“Oh Satoru, I’m so glad you’re here, I missed your voice so much” you sat on the desk too, close to him.
“My beautiful voice” your friend corrected.
“I missed your beautiful voice so much!”
“I know dear, that’s why I came looking for you. I have this special ability of knowing when your heart sings for me so I run to find you and bless you with my presence” he leaned back and clocked his head towards you, a cheeky grin on his lips.
“You’re so considerate” you laughed, leaned in closer to him and flicked his nose.
“Ouch!” whining, he rubbed his nose and pouted “I’m so nice to you and you hurt me like this”
“Aww, sorry baby, let me kiss away the pain, alright?” you rolled your eyes, having no intention on actually following through.
“Alright” he grinned again, taking the bandages off his face.
As soon as his white hair fell down on top of his forehead his long lashes flickered towards you, stunning sky blue irises making sure to stop your heart immediately. He rested his weight on his elbow, keeping his undivided attention fixed on you and yours on him. The man was gorgeous, he had always been. And yes, it was probably so cliche of you to fall in love with your long time friend Satoru Gojo, but when he looked at you like that with that playful smile of his and those beautiful eyes there was no stopping the butterflies that fluttered uncontrollably inside of you, that longing for his love that burned deep down in your heart.
“Well?” he rose his eyebrows “where’s my kiss?”
You laughed again, making him laugh along with you.
“What makes you think I’m gonna kiss you?”
“I don’t know, maybe those deeply in love eyes you’re giving me”
Your face flushed immediately, you bit your lip for a second before giggling.
“Don’t be ridiculous.”
His smile never left his face, he just licked his lips as his pupils examined your face and rested on your smile.
"When you laugh like that, it’s just - you're so beautiful, you know that?"
You probably blinked a bit too much, your eyes opened wide. It was normal for Satoru to make frisky flirty comments like that towards you, enjoying all the reactions he could get from you. But this one… this one was different. His fingertips then traced your jawline, guiding you closer to him. And so you followed, as naturally as chasing river flow, heart beating loudly in your ears. He tilted his head slightly, and then he softly kissed you. Lips caressing yours in a loving motion, a bit insistent, just a little bit curious, licking your lips and taking advantage of the surprised gasp you let out to explore your mouth with his tongue for a while. Your hand shakily traveled up his chest and your fingers weakly grasped the fabric in between. The kiss stopped just as softly and delicately as it had started, both of you lingering on each others mouths.
“I knew it.”
“What?”
“I always had a chance, didn’t I?” a sly smirk tugged from the corner of his lips, you frowned.
“I liked it better when you were silent” he giggled, but you smiled and kissed him again.
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nmakii · 7 months
Text
SWAY WITH ME…
— a date with alastor didn’t go as he had planned… but, it wasn’t that bad after all…
hi!!! i saw this idea from @callmechito and, i didnt make the idea exactly the way specified. but, i really wanted to try :)!! it is late at night though, so i did not make it as long as i wanted it to be (sorry if it’s rushed!!)
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acid rain. perhaps it would’ve been wiser to check the 666 news weather report before scheduling your date…
you stood by the window of your hotel room, wearing what you’d call your sunday’s bests. thousands of sinners’ skins burning on impact from the acidic rain pouring outside.
knock!
“s/o, are you decent? may i come in?” a static voice came from the other side of the door. “uuh, yeah! come in” you called back to him as he gently opened the door.
and on the other side of the door, you saw a different side of alastor that had never been seen before; a smitten yet small smile drawn on his face, wearing a red coat, as per usual (though this time, his coat is not tattered), and his big doe eyes shyly looking at the outfit you’d chosen for your proposed date.
alastor let out a quiet sigh, an overwhelming feeling filling his chest, making it hard to breath. “my dear! well, aren’t you stunning? i might just drop dead right now, haha!” alastor laughed, a laugh track joining along. “haha… it’s a shame that we have to cancel our date…” you smiled bittersweetly, quite honestly looking forward to the date. it must have been a millennia since your last date, not to mention how it is with alastor, hell’s most eligible bachelors if i do say so myself…
“well, who said we had to cancel our date?” he tilted his head. “i’d think the rain outside would speak for itself…” you muttered out. “we could just have our date here at the hotel! we could simply move the date to my hotel room, would you like that?” his fingers tapped against his staff.
“su-“”brilliant! let’s make haste now!” he smiled gleefully, taking his hand in yours and shadow teleporting you to his hotel room— the warm red tones of the hotel harshly contrasting with the cool blue and green tones of the forest on the other side.
alastor took your fingers in his hand and gently guided you to a table with two seats. he pulled one out and helped you into the chair. “just sit tight now, darling. i’ll have niffty whip something up for us.” he smiled before leaving the room.
minutes later, alastor came back— two delectable dishes in hand. he placed one in front of you before sitting down himself and digging in.
the two of you had spent your dinner getting to know each other better (more like just him getting to know you better…), talking about whatever came to mind.
not for one second had you ever doubted alastor tonight. everything coming from his beautifully thin lips had sounded as genuine as ever.
after dinner had ended, you wiped your mouth with the napkin on your lap. “alastor, i had a really good time…” you grinned awkwardly, blood rushing to your face. “i think i must go now, i have a busy day tomorrow…” you frowned slightly before standing up to leave.
“nonsense! come, dance with me for a while, would you?” he teasingly pleaded, placing a hand on your shoulder. you hesitated for a while, considering the consequences of staying up an extra few minutes. “ahh… i guess it couldn’t hurt..” you smiled as alastor walked to his vinyl record played, placing the needle onto the grooves of the CD.
as alastor placed a hand on your shoulder and hip, sway by michael bublé began playing. you copied his actions, placing your own hands on his hip and shoulder as the two of you began dancing to the soft music, alastor’s soft voice singing along to the tune.
you soaked in the soft sight of the scary radio demon, as docile as a doe. you rested the side of your head against alastor’s chest, feeling every vibration as he sang. alastor sighed softly, all of this simply being too much for him to act calmly.
all of these emotions were too much, alastor needed a way to release them… he took his hand off of your shoulder before gently gripping your chin. he leaned down a bit before kissing you.
his lips smiled into the kiss, the hand on your hip snaking up to cup your cheek.
the kiss lasted quite long before he finally pulled away, a proud yet mischievous grin decorating his handsome face.
alastor leaned down, his mouth hovering over your ear. “would you like to know something, gorgeous?” he whispered, the hand on your chin resting once more on your shoulder. “i’d say i’m the luckiest man in hell right now, on a date with a treasure like you. i might just die, again!” he laughed. though, despite his joke— when he had said that, the radio filter on his voice was gone, letting you hear his true voice.
you looked up to meet his careful gaze as you grinned lovingly “i had a marvelous time with you… you make me happy that… im in hell.” you laughed.
as the song stopped, alastor paused, thinking to himself quietly. he dropped your hand before cupping your back. “you said you must leave, didn’t you? i wouldn’t want to be the reason you’re groggy in the morning!” he smiled, walking you over to your hotel room, just a few ways down.
“i did have an amazing night with you, my dear. i hope we could do this again, perhaps again during an acid rain shower?” he teased while laughing. a calm composure remaining on his face.
and despite that poker face, he was in the best terms; burning on the inside out. his longing for you filling all of his senses. he must stay gentlemanly though… so, for now, he’ll cherish the beautiful date he had with you tonight.
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