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nadvs · 1 month ago

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the act of unravelling (part three)

pairing rafe cameron x pogue! female reader

rating mature 18+

summary you never expected you’d get tangled up with a kook, least of all, rafe cameron. one night, you make a life-altering decision to get revenge on someone you both despise. after you vow to keep what happened a secret, your relationship begins to twist into something more.

tags very dark! violence, homicide, drug and alcohol use, parental neglect, mental illness, s/a, trauma. no smut.

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Being in Rafe’s truck again is like being thrown back into a bad dream you can’t wake up from. You remember every detail from that night, the smell of bleach, the ache in your bones.

He parked by the edge of the country club lot, and as he settles in his seat and shuts the door, he wraps both of you in privacy behind his tinted windows.

“What is it?” you ask, your voice cutting through the tension. Rafe rakes his hand through his hair. He seems nervous, a contradiction to the smugness you’ve gotten used to.

“You were right,” he admits. “Cops aren’t even sniffing around yet and people think it was me.”

You meet his eyes, the blue hue bright and striking. The night it happened, you’d only seen him through the dark. Now, in the daylight, he almost looks innocent. But then you remember the loudness of the gun and how angry he looked when he fired it.

“What happened?” you ask.

“Last night,” he begins, “a few of us were hanging out and people were talking about how something might’ve happened to him. This guy had his name in my mouth… said some shit about how they should probably ask me.”

You nod slowly, taking his words in. You expected as much. As someone who openly hated Porter, Rafe’s likely at the top of everyone’s list of suspects.

“What’d you do?” you say.

“I swung at him.”

You exhale defeatedly, looking up at the ceiling of his car. He’s such a loose cannon that for the first time since that night, you worry that he won’t be able to keep his mouth shut.

“Damn it, Rafe,” you complain. “And you were giving me shit for being obvious?”

His temper flares like a match thrown into a pool of gasoline.

“I’m not gonna sit there and let some asshole say that shit about me,” he mutters. “This is why we need to have our story straight, alright? If you even think about ratting me out, you’ll regret it.”

You tense up. So, this is why he so desperately needed to talk to you. You can’t believe you thought you could find any comfort in him.

“You don’t need to threaten me,” you say sharply. Rafe is taken aback by the confusion on your face. You look like you’d never even considered selling him out. But maybe you’re just a great liar.

“We said we’re in this together,” you continue. “Neither of us leaves the other, no matter how messy it gets. That’s the whole point of being each other’s alibis.”

Rafe sucks his teeth. You realize just how on edge he is about this. He was so comfortable the night it happened. Almost careless. Irritated at how anxious you were. Now, it’s like he’s spiraling.

“I won’t let this ruin my life,” Rafe mumbles. He huffs an unamused chuckle, looking out of the driver’s side window. “I’m not going to jail. I’m not…”

He trails into silence. You stare at his profile. The coldness you’ve always seen in him has been shadowed by a deep paranoia.

“I’m freaked out, too,” you admit. He looks at you again. “But this is only going to work if we trust each other. We need to stick to our story so well that even we start to believe it.”

He tilts his head, looking at you with skepticism, a wrinkle between his brows.

“Don’t tell me you haven’t thought about screwing me over, Pogue,” he says. “You could say I did it and scared you into staying quiet.”

“Are you that paranoid?” you ask. “I won’t go behind your back. I promise. Even if it’s just a cover-up, we need to act like we’re friends now.”

Rafe gives you a once-over, the hardness in his face slowly fading.

“And don’t call me that,” you say. “You know my name.”

He breathes a real chuckle this time. Despite your better judgement, your heart flutters now that you’ve earned a smile from him.

“You’ll take it to the grave?” he murmurs.

“I will. You, too?”

“Yeah,” he says. He studies you again, realizing that you don’t have a guilty conscience at all. “You really don’t regret it.”

“No,” you state. The agony of reliving what Porter did to you hurts more than any sort of remorse you feel for taking his life.

Rafe is surprised to hear you don’t wish you could take what you did back. You’re as cold-blooded as he is. You might be the only person who comes close to understanding what it’s like being controlled by anger this intense.

“I just hate how I can’t stop thinking about if we left any evidence,” you say.

“Yeah.” He settles back, adjusting in his seat with ease, the tension between you dissipating. “We were rushed.”

You nod as you chew on your lip.

“At least nobody saw us,” you say. “And if the cops check our phones, they won’t find anything.”

“Good thinking to turn them off.”

Your face creases in surprise.

“What?” he says.

“Just throws me off when you’re not an asshole.”

He scoffs, his jaw tensing. But beneath the irritation, he wishes he could undo the way he’d spoken to you when you first got in the car.

It’s like his mind is speaking a different language to him when he feels any sort of shame. He usually tries to shut it up. When he looks at you again, he decides not to.

“I didn’t mean to… threaten you,” Rafe mumbles.

“Yeah, you did,” you say with a humorless laugh. “But I’m on your side here. Don’t forget that.”

You check your phone. You have plans to hang out with the guys after work and after what you put them through a few nights ago, you’d rather not leave them hanging again.

“I should go,” you say. “My friends are waiting on me.”

“Did you tell them the truth?”

“No,” you say. “This stays between you and me only. Trust me.”

Rafe stares at you, longer than he ever has before. It’s not anger in his face. Not worry, either. It’s something new. Vulnerability.

“I don’t trust anybody,” he says.

Your lips twitch into a frown. Even though this is a man who’s relentlessly teased you for your place in the classist system he seems to worship, your heart twinges in sympathy.

“Nobody?” you ask quietly.

He looks out the window again, tense and distant. He doesn’t say anything else.

“I have your back,” you reiterate to him. “To the grave, right?”

“Yeah,” he offers, not looking at you again. You exit his car, the confusing knot in your chest only tighter now.

·········

The police start knocking on doors a day later. When they come to yours, you do your best impression of a clueless nobody who just wants to help.

The lead on the case introduces himself as Detective Brading, settling in your living room like he’s been here before. He’s so confident that it’s intimidating.

You can imagine Porter’s wealthy family is doing everything they can to find out what happened. The man staring at you is likely the best of the best.

You’ve rehearsed your story so many times that it feels natural. The two men nod along as you lie to them about how you’d fallen asleep in the bedroom, how you’d woken up to him and Rafe arguing, how you convinced Rafe to leave with you.

Your parents stand close by, arms crossed. This is the most they’ve heard you speak in a long time. They hardly ever ask you anything about your life, so it feels odd to have their attention.

“We think you two might have been the last people to see him before he went missing,” Brading tells you. “Porter didn’t say anything about going anywhere?”

“No,” you answer. “Rafe and I left pretty quickly.”

The detective looks up at your parents with raised brows, asking them to give you a moment. When they leave, he leans a little closer.

“We know he deals drugs,” he murmurs. “And we know you bought from him. We’re not interested in getting anyone in trouble for that. We just want to know what happened to Porter. Is there anything you didn’t mention about that night in front of your parents? Be honest.”

“I fell asleep because I smoked too much pot,” you say quietly, looking back through the doorway your parents left through. It’s taking everything in you not to cry as you think about why you really lost consciousness in that room. “But I only ever bought that from him. He offered other things. Like cocaine. It’s why he and Rafe argued.”

It’s what you agreed on saying, but it still feels like you’re selling Rafe out. It’d be suspicious if you didn’t tell them this version of the truth, though.

The detective nods, clearly having been told this already. Your chest twists in unease as you think about Rafe’s name in everyone’s mouth, leading the cops to him. And possibly to you.

“How close are you to Rafe?”

“We've been talking more since I started my job at the country club,” you say. “We started hanging out a little bit ago. We’re friends.”

“Do you think he would’ve done anything to Porter?” Brading asks.

You meet his eyes, swallowing hard.

“No,” you say resolutely. “I don’t.”

·········

A man is missing and possibly, at this point, presumed dead. But that doesn’t stop Kooks from wanting to party.

You’re in the passenger seat as JJ drives to the north side of the island while John B and Pope talk in the back. You’re gazing out the window, watching the landscape go from dilapidated front yards to gated communities.

You’re heading to a party that you heard about from one of Porter’s friends and the way the police questioned you earlier today is spinning in your head.

“You good?” JJ asks.

You look over at your friend, flattening your lips together. You can never tell the whole truth, but you can offer bits and pieces.

“The cops told me they think I’m the last person who saw Porter before he disappeared,” you say. You can’t bring yourself to tell them the version of the story that includes Rafe yet. They’d never believe you. They’d judge you. “It’s kind of scary to think about.”

“My money’s on that he went on a bender,” JJ says. “Sampled his own product. Maybe even too much of it.”

“You think he overdosed?” you ask.

“More like Rafe offed him,” Pope chimes in.

“Is that what people are saying?” you ask, blood cold, turning back to look at him.

“It’s what I’m saying,” he answers. “The guy’s unhinged.”

You want to defend Rafe. To say he wouldn’t go that far. But it’d be suspicious. And a complete lie.

“It’s a small island,” John B says. “It’s only a matter of time before we find out what happened.”

You hope that’s not true.

·········

You make it to the house, reminding yourself over and over that you have to live as if you believe your own lie. You want to erase that night from your memory. Erase what Porter did to you.

You chug the first drink you can get your hands on. Your friends rib you for how quickly you down it. You blame it on a rough day at work.

Soon after, you’re at the keg, not even close to buzzed yet, but desperately needing to be. Discussing Porter with the cops today, pretending like he was just a dealer you had a few short conversations with, hearing that his family is concerned for his wellbeing made your pulse spike.

Does his family know what a monster he is?

You have to correct yourself.

Was.

“Slow down,” you hear.

Rafe towers over you, his eyes on your cup.

“What?” you shout over the music and conversations surrounding you.

“You’re on your second drink already.”

You look over your shoulder to make sure your friends don’t see you talking with him.

“I don’t even feel anything,” you reply sharply.

It’s a half-truth. Your sadness and anger are weighing heavy on your soul. That vile man took away your power, but you took it back, so you hate that you’re still so rattled by what he did. You just want peace.

“And why are you keeping tabs on me?” you ask.

Rafe stares at you, his lips just slightly parted. He can lie and say he wants to make sure you’re not setting yourself up to get hammered and potentially admit to someone what you did.

But the truth is he can’t stop thinking about you. And he doesn’t like seeing that look on your face, sad and absentminded.

He knows you hate him. He wishes he could hate you back.

“I need to be sure you’re not a liability,” he lies. “And people think we’re friends now, don’t they?”

You look over your shoulder again, anxious the guys will see you. You need privacy if you’re going to continue this conversation.

“Come on,” you say, dipping your hand in his, dragging him through the crowd. His palm is warm and soft and you don’t know what you were expecting, but the way Rafe feels is the opposite of it.

You open the first door you see, stepping into a narrow closet. You shut the door and switch on a light and suddenly he’s standing right over you, all breadth and intimidation.

Your heart races from the way you’d just touched him, from the way he’s just about pressed up against you right now. Something must be short-circuiting in your brain, because the fear you used to hold for him is entirely gone.

The attraction you’ve always felt is overpowering now. You can’t make sense of your own emotions.

“I haven’t told my friends our story,” you confess.

“What?” Rafe snips, his tone low.

“I can’t handle telling them right now, okay?” you say. You cross your arms. “I just said I was with a guy. Telling them that guy was you is… They’ll be so disappointed in me.”

“Disappointed,” he repeats with a scoff.

“Rafe, think back to every encounter you’ve had with us. All you’ve ever done is insult us. I don’t even want to think about how hurt they’ll be to hear I’m friends with you.”

“Who gives a fuck?” he mutters. “We need to make sure our alibi is solid. If the cops find out your friends don’t know we–”

“I’d tell the truth,” you say. “That I was worried about what they’d think.”

“I can’t believe you.” The thought of you being concerned about someone else’s opinion is ridiculous. “Why do you care so much?”

“They’re the only family I have,” you admit. It comes out before you even realize it. You look down, sighing. “You don’t get it. You’re like… an enemy to us. They know how shitty you treat me when I’m at work. Telling them–“

“How the hell do I treat you shitty?” he interrupts.

“I know that those tips are all a degrading show of how you’re so much richer and better than me,” you say with a roll of your eyes.

“It’s not like that.”

“What’s it like, then? Charity?”

Rafe’s jaw tightens, his nostrils flaring. Charity isn’t the right word. He hides behind a forced ego, but he’s always wanted you. And through excessive tips and constant teasing, at least he can talk to you without risking the chance of you rejecting him.

You have him all wrong. He doesn’t think he’s better than you. He’s afraid you’re better than him.

“I’ll tell my friends, okay?” you say when he doesn’t speak. “But I talked to the cops today and they seemed convinced. We’ll be fine.”

“They talked to me, too. I can tell they think it was me.” There’s an almost imperceptible tremble in Rafe's voice. “Everyone thinks it was me.”

“Even your friends?”

“Yeah,” he says. If he can even call them friends. Hearing you call yours family made his jealousy flare. Envy is all Rafe ever feels. Like he’s missing the one thing that deems everyone else loveable.

But he’s hanging on how you said they’re your only family. He doesn’t have a family, either. Not really. Not one that cares about him. Maybe you understand him more than he thought.

“Well…” You clear your throat. “They can believe what they want. You can trust me that I won’t ever tell anyone what really happened.”

“Why?” he finally asks. “Why not just snitch on me, Pogue?”

“Because that night, I told you to do it and you did. The world is a better place without him in it. You did me a favor.” You uncross your arms. “And I told you to stop calling me that.”

Rafe clears his throat, giving in, remembering how you’d saved his life and offering a quiet sorry before he says your name.

It’s the gentlest you’ve ever seen him. It’s a shock to your system. You search his blue eyes in the dim of the closet as if you’re waiting for the other shoe to drop, for him to make a snide joke.

But he doesn’t. He just stares at you, his breaths shallow, and you rethink everything you thought you knew about him.

He’s violent and aggressive and condescending. But you don’t see that right now. You see a man who doesn’t seem to be able to believe that someone would want to protect him. Is that who he is behind all the bravado?

The world continues to turn on the other side of the door, music blasting, bass rattling, but time has stopped between you. He’s looking at you through low lids. Like he wants you.

You shouldn’t. Shit is already complicated enough. But what’s one more tangle in the string tying you together?

Your fingers are at the collar of his button-up, pulling him towards you, lips meeting with abandon.

Rafe kisses you back immediately, hungrily leaning into you, cupping your face. His heart is racing. He doesn’t know how or why this is happening, but he wants it so bad that it hurts.

Your mouths part and finally, you taste him against your tongue. It feels so right, like you were always meant to do this and were both too stubborn to.

His hands press tighter against your jaw. Fear floods you. You’re back in that bedroom. You pull back.

“Not so hard,” you say.

“Okay,” he whispers, his grip loosening. He stays hovering over you, nose nudging yours. “Just… please…”

You nod, tilting your head to kiss him again, his hunger for you palpable. You’re with Rafe again, not in that bedroom, but here with a man you want who listens to your wishes.

Your head is swimming with bliss as he kisses you, smelling like cologne and desire, every piece of you wanting him. Then, his hands drift down over the curves of your hips, pulling you flush against him.

And it’s too much. You’re back there again. Begging for it to stop.

“No,” you snap, both hands roughly pushing his chest.

Rafe hits the shelves behind him, his head radiating in pain from how hard he smacked against the wood.

“What the fuck?” he mutters. He was just living in a dream. Why the hell are you pulling him out of it?

“No,” you repeat breathlessly. “You can’t touch me like that.”

“Okay,” he groans. “I won’t. Jesus.”

He clutches the back of his head, wincing.

“I’m sorry,” you say, your throat raw. “I didn’t mean to push you that hard.”

“Why’d you even kiss me?” he says. “Fuck.”

“I’m sorry,” you repeat. You step towards him, trying to meet his eyes. “You can’t… I need you to ask before you touch me like that.”

His lips are glossy from the kiss, his face pinched in pain. You take a risk, gently placing your hands on his cheeks.

Rafe should be angry at you. But goddamn it, your touch feels so good that he melts. His gaze is heavy on yours, both of you breathing deeply, coming down from the sudden outburst.

“I didn’t mean to,” you repeat softly. “Just don’t take me by surprise. I can’t handle it.”

Rafe searches your face, silently asking for an explanation.

You shake your head, not having it in you to answer right now. Your goal tonight was to forget. Not relive. You pull him closer, and thankfully, he lets you.

Your lips are tender after you part, having lost count of how long you’ve been kissing.

Things just got so much more complicated. But you wouldn’t take it back. Not for a second. Nothing else makes sense right now, but having Rafe the way you always secretly wanted him is the one thing that does.

“Don’t fuck me over,” he says, a note of cynicism in his tone as his forehead brushes against yours. “No matter what happens, don’t fuck me over.”

“I won’t,” you promise.

·········

The next morning, you’re walking through the club hall towards the golf course to start your shift. You still can’t get the way Rafe’s mouth felt against yours out of your mind.

He kissed you like he’s been waiting to kiss you for ages. Like he felt lucky that he got to.

You’re about to step through the glass doors leading outside, but the sound of your name makes ice go through your veins. You know that gravelly voice.

You turn to see Detective Brading, his stare intimidating.

“You have a minute to talk?” he says.

You can tell by his tone that it isn’t a question.

next >

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#rafe cameron and reader #rafe cameron and you #rafe cameron and y/n #rafe cameron x y/n #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron fic #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe cameron

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timmydraker · 3 months ago

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On a seemingly random Tuesday night, a few members of the Bat Family are free to spend dinner at the manner.

Jason was benched by his fellow Outlaws for a nasty hit to his chest and got tired of Biz’s worrying even if it was appreciated at first.

Dick had been taking a small break after a particularly bad case with work that involved some hurt children and wanted to be back home.

Damian had only ever made threats to move about but the newley eighteen year old was still at home.

Tim had been using his free time while Kon and Cassie visited their families to visit his own while Bart and Barry dragged Wally on a bonding trip. The poor West boy had to miss out a concert of some sort.

Stephanie, Duke and Cass were all busy with a case and had pleaded with Bruce to take some time off because he was, quote, “Broodier than Hamlet”. He eventually relented when Barbie and Kate promised to keep an eye on them.

The group had decided to watch a movie instead of playing games, mainly because not games were banned, and settled on something that Tim paid no mind to.

The problem came that it was cold out and everyone insisted on having the fire as hot as it could go, but Tim naturally ran hot. Jason and Damian tended to get the coldest and while only Jason would complain, Damian could and would set anything he wanted on fire to get warm.

So, Tim didn’t complain and just said he was going to get changed.

He spent at least half an hour on one of the arm chairs by himself with his tablet playing RuneScape, when Dick inhaled so quickly everyone heard it.

Tim assumed it was something to do with the movie and didn’t turn, tapping away at his screen, completely ignorant to Dick’s quickly forming tears.

It was when Bruce also made a noise, this time a poorly pronounced ‘oh’ that he turned around, assuming it had to be a truely grand thing for Bruce to react so openly in the movie.

Instead he finds his foster father and brothers staring at him.

More specifically, his thighs.

Tim hadn’t realised his shorts would ride up and stop covering him to just above his knee and show the hundreds of scars littered over the outside and inside of his pale skin. They were mostly faded, but with the width of some of them they were always going to be visible, especially with the sheer amount.

Pulling his pant leg down, Tim doesn’t bother to hide a sympathetic wince and says, “Sorry, didn’t meant to show them. Sorry if I made you uncomfortable.”

He looks away again, assuming that was that and trying to remind himself that it wasn’t his fault that people were upset by his scars, just like Black Canary told him.

Instead he hears a sob and turns back to find Bruce holding Dicks hand as his oldest brother sobs into his hand. He sees that Jason is seemingly fighting to not match him even with his wide eyes and Damian is staring at him with confusion.

Realisation finds Tim quickly, which makes sense considering he’s supposed to be the ‘smart Robin’.

“You didn’t know…”

Dick stands up, dropping Bruce’s hand and comes to kneel before Tim, holding onto his own hands like some kind of follower to a god, “Why? I- I don’t- why?”

The desperation in his voice makes Tim feel sick, and he looks around at the others for help because surely he had talked to at least one of them about it? He had been open with his friends, and he hadn’t exactly kept it a secret, but he did avoid showing them…

Tim moves to hold onto Dick in return, “I’m sorry, I thought you guys knew-… okay, look, I’ve got a two year clean streak and I’m in therapy, okay? I’m so sorry Dick, I just assumed you knew cause I use the shower in the cave with you guys and… I’m so sorry.”

There’s a silence for a moment as Dick drags him into his arms and squeezes him as tightly as he can, not even being careful like he usually would.

“I don’t understand.”

Damian’s voice sounds uncharacteristic in how small it is. He’s staring at Tim’s legs like he might be able to catch a glimpse of the scars in genuine confusion.

Bruce seemingly can’t speak and so Jason tries his best to explain to the youngest Wayne boy, “Look, bra-kid, some times when people aren’t doing to well they… they hurt themselves. Tim…”

Giving his brother a smile, Tim takes over as tears finally break away from Jason. Jason was always the most emotional and that’s evident in how he actually lets Bruce pull him into a side hug.

“Dami, you know how my parents kind of sucked?”

Damian makes a scoff noise, “I know they were incompetent, yes.”

Smiling, Tim continues as his eyes grow wet with the sound of his families cries, “Well, I really wanted to good for them but they had impossible standards. When I found I couldn’t reach them, I decided I needed punishment. So…” he takes a deep inhale and moves a hand to Dick’s head to comfort him as he finishes. “I started to cut myself.”

Damian doesn’t get wide eyes or anything, and Tim thinks it’s so much worse that there’s an image understanding in his little brothers eyes that show he sees that as completely logical.

But it is quickly overcome, his first thought always what he was raised with and quickly followed by the ideals he’s learnt and now values. He doesn’t cry either, but he does have a look of a pure heart break in his sweet little eyes.

Bruce finally comes over and pulls his two sons into a hug, adjusting to fit Jason in and saying nothing as Damian comes up behind Tim and leans his head against the others back.

Bruce asks other a few minutes of holding each other, “You said you haven’t for two years?”

Tim smiles once again and presses a kiss to his dad’s cheek. “Yeah. I learnt that family, real family like ours, would never want physical punishment, especially for something we can’t control. That’s not how loving people work.”

Damian moves to wrap his arms around Tim in their first ever hug and by all gods and mighty beings is Tim glad he stuck around.

Hugs from his family was well worth it.

#batfam #tim drake #bat family #dc comics #batfamily #dc universe #dc #tim drake is red robin #tim drake is a menace #damian wayne #dick grayson #jason todd #bruce wayne #Tim Drake angst #tim drake centric #sh mention

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steviesbicrisis · 1 year ago

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Thinking about YouTuber Steve who’s gaining a lot of popularity with his weekly vlogs. The routine is very similar: he goes to work, hangs out with friends, acts silly for the camera, cooks for his roommate, watches movies with his roommate, goes out with his roommate.

His roommate is there a lot.

His new growing fanbase doesn’t take long to divide into factions regarding Steve’s dating life and sexuality; There are ships, OTPs, people who want him single so they can date him, and a surprisingly small portion which questions his heterosexuality, which gets always shut up by the following compelling arguments:

“stop assuming he’s gay.”

“Steve doesn’t look gay. He’s just a guy, a former jock, who loves to cook and hangs out with friends. A friend more than the others, but it’s his roommate so it makes sense, right?”

“And yes, they do cuddle while watching movies, but who doesn’t love a cuddle? You don’t have to be gay for that.”

“Sure, they hold hands when they go out but the city is crowded and they might lose each other.”

“Since when two male friends can’t be close without assuming that they’re gay?”

“Have you ever seen them kiss in ten minutes of weekly vlog? No, so drop your gay agenda already.”

And Steve Harrington, who started the whole vlog thing in the first place because he wanted to update his friends who live miles away and still doesn’t know how he got this much heteronormative bullcrap in his comments, has had enough.

One day, Steve Just-A-Guy Harrington, wakes up and chooses violence.

He replies to a tiktok comment that says “stop assuming he’s gay” with another video.

It begins with Steve glaring at the camera “oh yes please, stop assuming I’m gay.”

Then there’s a quick motion and Steve is pulling a curly haired guy into frame: Eddie, his roommate/platonic friend/totally not his boyfriend of 5+ years.

Eddie yawns, looking sleepily at the camera “are you vlogging?”

“I’m proving a point” Steve replies, then kisses him. They almost get lost into it, but Steve is a man on a mission, so he pulls back and turns to the camera.

“This is Eddie, my boyfriend. Not a friend who’s a boy, you delusional homophobes, we are together, a couple, in a relationship. We haven’t been just friends for over 5 years. We live together, he isn’t just a roommate.

And even if he was just my roommate, do you think I would live with this” he squeezes Eddie’s cheeks between his fingers and zooms in to show his face up close. Eddie blinks a couple of times, but let’s Steve do whatever he wants.

“Do you seriously think that I would live with this 24/7 and stay straight? Like, are you insane?” He gives Eddie a quick smack on the lips, leaving him blushing and more confused than ever.

Usually, it’s Eddie the one getting almost feral over Steve, not the other way around.

He doesn’t complain.

“So yeah, stop assuming I’m gay. Because I’m bi, you homophobic little shits.”

The video ends with Eddie pulling Steve for more than a quick peck on the lips, and Steve throwing the phone on their couch, face down.

Somehow, under Steve’s video, there’s still someone that comments “I mean, this doesn’t mean anything. It’s just bros helping bros, right?”

Steve is too busy making out with his “bro” to read it.

#idk what is this #but Steve will not stand heteronormative bullshit #sometimes the queerness is painfully obvious and ppl still refuse to see it #and if they have to they would just assume ‘gay’ and nothing else #because all the other letters in LGBTQIA+ are silent apparently #idk what got me in this mood lmak #I’ll go work on my other queer shit now #peace #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #steve and eddie #stranger things #steve x eddie #bi steve harrington #sbc writes

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jenscx · 2 months ago

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KISS ME MORE — ning yizhuo

tldr: my (22f) gay roommate’s (21f) dating life makes me feel weird. she’s one of my best friends but now i’m wondering if i could be homophobic.

tags fluff, crack, jealousy, non-idol au, roommates, based off that one reddit story, short fic, dialogue heavy, mentions of jmj, hi yunjin! tw for oblivious ning, pacing’s weird kinda

wordcount 5.2k

🎙️ author’s note: happy birthday ning! late fic ik… but i’ve been busy (i’m sorry 😞) hope our dearest main vocal stays happy for the rest of her life! can’t imagine aespa without her 🤍 happy reading~

r/relationships posted by

u/throwawaylizard 16 hours ago.

TLDR: my (22f) gay roommate’s (21f) dating life makes me feel weird. she’s one of my best friends but now i’m wondering if i could be homophobic.

i am currently roommates with this girl, A. we've been staying together ever since we graduated and we’re very close. sometimes we’ll even jokingly flirt with each other but she knows i’m straight and she has never made me uncomfortable before. i’m a foreigner and A has definitely helped me grow accustomed to the culture here. i owe it all to her. which is why i’m confused about my feelings right now.

i’ve never thought of myself to be discriminatory towards anyone and i always welcomed those different from me, regardless of their sexual orientation. however, recently my roommate has come out to me. i supported her and didn’t think much of it after. but here’s where the problem starts. she came back with a girl a few days ago that i recognise from our extended friend group. i have nothing against gay people but when i saw the girl, i just felt so upset. at first i thought it was because i was in a bad mood and all i wanted was to cuddle with A, but afterwards, A would progressively get more touchy with that girl (lets call her Y). every time i would see them, i just felt bad. i wanted to puke at the sight.

i caught them making out on the couch once and i got so pissed off. i think it was because of a rough day but basically when my roommate started to apologise, i just blew her off. Y seemed embarrassed too. i felt really bad afterwards since A was really hurt by my action. she asked me why i was so angry and i just lied saying that something at work made me upset. i don’t want to tell her that it was because seeing her with a girl that i was annoyed.

there was another incident where she brought Y to our weekly game night. all my friends seemed fine with her, except for me. one of my friends, let’s call her M, had to pull me aside to ask what was wrong with me. in that moment, i realised that i was only hurting A and Y by being a jerk. i’m normally a polite person but that day i was being unnecessarily rude to someone i didn’t even know. i chalked it up as wanting only the best for A since she’s a year younger than me and wanting to protect her. she doesn’t really date anyone and she’s very quiet. am i being unreasonable? i really don’t want to be homophobic. i told M all about my feelings of homophobia and she told me that she was dating a girl too. i didn’t know why she brought it up but then she asked if i felt any disgust towards her for being gay. i said no and that her sexual orientation would never change our friendship.

so she asked why do i only feel that way towards A? and i want to extend that question to everyone here too. can someone help? do you have any experience with something like this? i don’t want to lose A as a friend. she’s one of my best friends and i can’t see myself not standing beside her in the future. we’ve been through a lot together and i don’t want this to be the reason why we end our friendship. she’s never once complained about my dating life and it feels hypocritical to do the same to hers. but i just feel queasy whenever she brings up other girls. like i want to bash my head against the wall type.

do i have selective homophobia? can someone help?

⇧ 157 | ⇩ | 89 comments

u/betterthingz01 | 12h

op i hate to break this to you… but i think you might be in love with your roommate.

u/throwawaylizard | 12h

can you elaborate? please!!!

u/flatearther | 11h

Are u sure u don’t have a crush on A? Or that u are straight?

u/throwawaylizard | 10h

uhm well i’m straight… so i don’t think i have a crush on A but if i was into girls, i’d definitely fall in love with her!! she’s really sweet and caring.

u/flatearther | 10h

Oh 😭😭

u/mingmingz | 7h

how do you feel if your roommate brought back a different girl? maybe you just don’t like Y as a person?

u/throwawaylizard | 7h

she used to bring other girls around too i think they were just friends though. i felt the same way but just seeing her kiss Y makes me want to throw up :((

u/blueskies444 | 5h

have u tried talking to ur roommate? i think communication is the best solution here

u/throwawaylizard | 4h

i talked to her a few days ago, asking her if she could stop bringing Y to our hangouts or apartment because it feels weird. our friend group only really consisted of five people and as bad as it sounds, Y just felt like an intruder. she kinda looked at me weird before agreeing. but then she asked if i would be fine if she went to Y’s apartment instead and obviously i said it wasn’t any of my business. A got a little upset and we haven’t been talking recently…

u/blueskies444 | 4h

i’m gonna be real w u for a sec and say that A is most definitely trying to get u jealous

u/throwawaylizard | 3h

why would she do that?

u/blueskies444 | 2h

yeahhh i’m not the one who should tell u why

“ning yizhuo, why am i getting messages from jimin unnie saying that she found your reddit post?” minjeong’s voice shrills out behind yizhuo. the girl shrinks, shivers running down her spine at the thought of anyone finding out about her post. she had resorted to reddit for help after much consideration and even aeri had said that reddit was surprisingly helpful at times.

“that’s not me! you’ve got the wrong person!”

minjeong rolls her eyes and tosses her phone onto yizhuo’s desk, “that’s literally you. ddongie would be upset to know that he’s a throwaway lizard.”

yizhuo instantly protests, “that just means that it isn’t my main account! i didn’t want people to find my real account.”

“oh, so you are throwaway lizard?”

she cowers at minjeong’s intense gaze, knowing that her little slip up just cost her whole facade.

“well the comments were helpful!”

“did you not reread what you typed out?”

minjeong’s genuine tone makes yizhuo hesitate.

“yeah? did i make a lot of spelling mistakes…?”

“no! did you not realise?” minjeong asks again. yizhuo huffs, swerving back around in her chair, “realise what? that i’m a bad friend? y/n hasn’t talked to me in days.”

just as she said in her reddit post, you haven’t spoken a word to her ever since that day she confronted you. yizhuo doesn’t think she was super mean with her words but the way you had reacted made it seemed like she killed your whole family.

she had only said, “hey, can you stop bringing yunjin over?” and her mere words had launched a full-blown argument where you had insinuated that yizhuo was jealous that you had someone to rely on.

it couldn’t have been further from the truth! yizhuo would never be upset about your happiness. any semblance of bitterness had lessened when she saw how bright your smile was or how much you were laughing when yunjin would tell a joke.

(she didn’t find it funny but at least you laughed. yunjin was the epitome of dad jokes. she was not funny.)

“she really hasn’t? wow, she’s determined,” minjeong chuckles.

yizhuo rolls her eyes and turns her attention back to her sketchbook. a few scrawned out designs, nothing much. just to take her mind off this situation for now. the pencil drawings somehow only manages to ensure that her brain constantly thinks about you though. how you encouraged her to enrol in a fashion course and how you were certain that yizhuo would become the biggest designer ever known.

she would giggle at your claims and humour you. now all that was left was your silence.

“why would she be determined to ignore me?” yizhuo asks, sighing, “i was upset but now it just seems like she thinks i don’t want her to be happy.”

minjeong raises an eyebrow, “what did the comments say? did they help?”

yizhuo huffs just thinking about the reddit comments. none of them really helped her to identify her feelings. just stating that she was gay and in love. both wrong!

“they said i’m in love with y/n and i’m jealous of yunjin,” she answers coolly, trying not to get too worked up over the false accusations.

minjeong winces, “do you think they’re right?”

yizhuo furrows her eyebrows.

“no?! i’m not gay!”

“but do you like y/n?”

“no! she’s just a very good friend!”

the brunette sighs, “that’s what they all say.”

“minjeong!”

yizhuo couldn’t be in love with you. no way. you were really just a good friend. one of her closest. she adored you greatly and wanted the best for you.

“so why are you so upset?” minjeong asks.

“i don’t know! that’s why i’m asking reddit! but now i just look like an idiot,” yizhuo groans, wanting to pull her hair out of frustration, which truly shows how irritated she was. she would never harm her hair.

“yizhuo, have you ever considered that you’re not as straight as you thought?”

yizhuo turns back to face minjeong, who’s sitting on her bed. she thinks back to all the times you’ve hung out with her. the lingering touches of comfort. the warmth she felt whenever you spoke.

she just wants her friend back. and she doesn’t know why she’s acting so unreasonable. could minjeong have a point? what if yizhuo…

“oh my gosh! i’m jealous since she’s out and gay—”

minjeong lights up, squealing, “yes!”

“and i’m just a straight girl without any confidence! i’m jealous of her confidence!”

minjeong deflates almost instantly.

yizhuo knows she’s right, so she immediately hatches a plan to talk to you. one comment said communication was vital in preserving this friendship, so yizhuo jumped into action. she knew you had your shifts at night and yizhuo could catch you off-guard right after. your work usually ended late and yizhuo always dozed off on the couch waiting for you. recently that routine has been broken, of course, but that’s when you’re most susceptible to vulnerability. yizhuo needed space to be honest and truthful.

thus, she waits patiently in the living room. yizhuo’s not really sure how long your shift lasts but she normally hears your keys jingle at midnight, so maybe then?

she waits an hour. then another. and then another. she spends the time scrolling on instagram, a frown forming on her face when yunjin appears on her feed.

then, finally, she hears the door creaking. jumping up from her lying position, yizhuo sits upright, focused.

“oh,” is your first word to her. not ‘hi’, or ‘hello’, just an acknowledgment.

yizhuo blinks at the sight of you in your work attire. but she quickly shoves the thought of how attractive you looked into the back of her mind.

“hey,” she winces at her own unfamiliar tone, “can we talk?”

you stare at her in shock before reluctantly nodding.

“yeah, sure.”

she pats the space next to her and clears her throat as you sit down.

“i know i’ve kind of been a jerk lately especially to you and yunjin, but i just want to say that i’m sorry.”

surprise flickers in your eyes, “oh.”

“i talked to minjeong unnie and it really cleared things up. i realised that i was upset because it felt like we weren’t as close as before. knowing that someone like yunjin could come replace me. i was jealous that you had someone while i didn’t. it felt like you were moving on without me, so i got a bit angry. i’m really sorry for the way i treated you and yunjin.”

(their first interaction really went poorly. yizhuo had came home, ready for a long movie night, just to find a random girl (well, not really random) sprawled out on her couch.

“i’m home,” yizhuo calls out, carefully approaching the body. long and lanky is the first thing she notices. and the bright red hair. yizhuo dyed her hair red before, it stained her pillowcase cover. she wonders if this girl’s pillowcase covers are stained with red dye too.

“hey, how was your day?” you ask, laying beside the girl, “sorry, this is yunjin. we just finished a gym session together with aeri unnie. minjeong unnie knows her.”

no wonder why you were barely dressed. yizhuo scrunches her nose at the sight of yunjin’s arm wrapped around your bare torso. she nods and asks quietly, “why is she here?”

you laugh, “i was bragging about my post-gym lunch and she said she wanted to try.”

yizhuo’s never tried your cooking before. she feels a little out of place now.

“ah, okay,” she replies dryly, not bothering to keep her volume down, “is she going to be here all day?”

yunjin wakes up at the commotion, a little disoriented as she shifts.

“oh, shit. sorry, y/nnie,” yunjin yawns, sitting up, “sorry ning, i accidentally fell asleep.”

“it’s yizhuo. only my friends call me ning,” she spits out. you send her a scalding look that makes her want to retract her words, “whatever. sorry. see you guys later.”

at night, just before you leave for your shift, you reprimand her, saying that she was extremely rude to someone she didn’t even know. yizhuo had tuned out most of your scolding, not wanting to hear you defend yunjin.)

“oh…”

yizhuo swallows harshly, squeezing her eyes shut, “i just need you to know i’m not praying for your downfall or anything. i want the best for you, especially since you feel like my younger sister.”

as soon as she finishes her little speech, she opens her eyes to your flabbergasted expression. eyebrows furrowed with your mouth agape.

“uhm… can you forgive me?”

yizhuo really needs you to forgive her. she doesn’t know what she would do if you decided that this was the breaking point for your friendship. she would respect your decision but still, it wouldn’t be nice. who would want that? and if you decided to end the friendship, what would happen with the apartment? yizhuo really likes being roommates with you. it would suck to have to find another roommate as meticulous as you.

“well— uhm, of course,” you stutter, “i gotta go shower. sorry.”

“oh, okay.”

just as you’re about to get up, yizhuo reaches for your hand, “we’re okay, right?”

she watches your throat bobble before rasping out, “yes. we’re fine.”

wow! yizhuo mentally pats herself on the back.

that was so easy. it felt like a whole weight got lifted off her chest. yizhuo smiles to herself and enters her own room, proud.

(meanwhile, in your own room, you vent to yunjin, bewildered by yizhuo’s obliviousness.

“she said i’m like a sister! her absolute gall! and she said it’s because she’s upset she doesn’t have someone like me! your whole jealousy tactic didn’t do shit!”

“girl, calm down. i didn’t know you liked the dumb ones. who knew she was so stupid?”)

you stare at yizhuo, who’s trying her best not to show any disdain for the way yunjin’s arm was slung over your shoulder. she must either be extremely self-repressed or just stupid. probably both. unless she didn’t actually like you. that thought, you didn’t dare to entertain. the once confident and bold girl had turned into this timid and shy kitten.

“take a shot if you’ve kissed someone in this room before!” aeri reads out the card before gulping down her drink. minjeong and jimin do the same and so do a few others. when yunjin shakes you ever so slightly, you take the initiative to swallow down the burning sensation. yizhuo’s glare narrows before she turns away entirely.

subtly grinning at her act of jealousy, you hum happily. there’s an outcry of people asking who aeri kissed and the attention shifts away. most people in your extended friend group had assumed you and yunjin to be dating. the only people who knew the truth were minjeong and aeri. jimin was kept in the dark since well, truthfully, she couldn’t keep a secret from yizhuo.

“take a shot if you ever kissed someone of the same gender.”

there’s more people drinking this time. you drink yours after a refill and so does yunjin. your eyes nearly bulge out of their sockets when yizhuo drinks as well. wasn’t she straight?

“who did you kiss?!” jimin screeches.

yizhuo wipes her lips, glistening with alcohol, “a friend. it was a dare in high school.”

you listen with rapt attention as aeri eggs on, “was it good? are girls better than guys?”

“well, it was definitely less sloppy,” yizhuo shrugs, giggling. her blush has worsened under the lighting and you can tell she’s at least tipsy now. the redness was currently spreading throughout her cheekbones and neck. you would coo at the adorable sight of her pouting and playing with the soju bottle if she wasn’t the stupidest girl on earth. you noticed how yizhuo drank every time yunjin squeezed your shoulder or you leaned into her touch. was she seriously still so thick?

“take a shot if you ever crushed on someone in this room,” aeri groans, downing her glass again. you drink yours and others follow. it wasn’t unexpected. you were seventy percent sure that most of the guys had crushed on jimin before, at least for a second. or maybe hanbin. he was cute too. that, you could admit.

“aeri… why are all the questions about dating?!” jimin whines, flopping onto the carpeted floor. minjeong winces before exclaiming, “i think she’s drunk now. let’s call it a night, okay?”

you agree. yizhuo looks seconds away from passing out as well and despite your recent gym endeavours, you do not want to carry a twenty four year old woman back home. yunjin taps your side and slyly tilts her head towards yizhuo, who’s leaning against the couch.

“go save your princess, romeo,” she whispers and stands to help minjeong clean up.

after all the bottles had been cleared, you crouched to yizhuo’s eye level, “ning, let’s go. it’s time to go home.”

her eyelids flutter open and she blinks at you wearily, “home?”

you nod, standing to wrap her arm over your shoulder to steady her. finally on her two feet, you bid goodbye to everyone and make your way home, albeit slowly.

every minute or so, yizhuo would jolt and nearly topple over. right as you reach your place, she leans over to the sidewalk drain and gags. you let go instantly and take out your phone to record her. next time she wants to get drunk, you’ll just show her the video. let her reflect.

“yizhuo, hurry up, i wanna shower,” you complain, dragging the hem of her shirt.

“o-okay…!”

“uhm, you have to get up.”

yizhuo nods again, wobbling as she stands. you grip her wrist and pull her into the apartment lobby. her body weighs heavily onto yours in the lift and you huff at the stench of alcohol.

“you smell bad,” you sigh.

“really?” yizhuo giggles, “you don’t like it?” the elevator dings.

she turns around to rest her head on your shoulder.

“i shouldn’t have gotten so drunk…”

“no kidding. c’mon you big baby.”

finally, after much effort, you manage to get yizhuo onto the couch. you’re heaving and panting at the end but at least she’s comfortable.

“please never get this drunk again,” you groan, flopping onto the couch.

yizhuo moans, “not my fault.”

“yeah? who’s fault is it then?”

she flips herself around, facing the ceiling, “y-yours.”

“how is it my fault?”

“you and yunjin…” she slurs out and your heart leaps.

“how is it our fault?”

“you keep touching each other,” yizhuo inhales sharply before mumbling, “i hate it…”

grinning, you pat her back.

“yeah. it’s my fault. sorry baby.”

“hmfph…”

r/relationships posted by

u/throwawaylizard 4 hours ago.

UPDATE: my (22f) gay roommate’s (21f) dating life makes me feel weird. she’s one of my best friends but now i’m wondering if i could be homophobic.

hi guys! so i know some of you all have been asking for an update and here it is. there’s really nothing much that has changed? we’re back to normal, mostly. A doesn’t bring Y around as much anymore which honestly, should make me feel guilty but i don’t. we had a talk and i think it went rather well. i told her i felt like i was left behind and she forgave me for being so shitty.

it feels like this was just a hurdle in our friendship and we’re closer than ever. she’s become really touchy with me and i appreciate that things are back to normal. she’s been initiating talks and hangout sessions which boosts my mood immensely. i’m really happy with the progress we made. we’ve even started cooking together and it feels awesome. Y had tasted her cooking before and i didn’t. so it felt like this hole in my heart had been patched up. our movie nights have become solely ours and everything’s great. she’s the sweetest girl i know and the most caring, so i really do feel happy that i have my best friend and roommate back. our cold war was doing a toll on my mental and physical health but a simple conversation had cleared the air so easily.

sometimes when she brings up Y since she still hangs out with her, i do feel a little upset. she told me they aren’t dating, just good friends. but other than that, we’re cool. thanks for all the comments! i’m glad i’m not homophobic :D

⇧ 178 | ⇩ | 102 comments

u/imissher | 3h

op you can’t be serious…

u/throwawaylizard | 3h

? what’s wrong

u/imissher | 2h

it feels as if you haven’t really solved this ‘homophobia’ issue. just put it off to the side.

u/throwawaylizard | 2h

IM NOT HOMOPHOBIC 😭

u/mingzmingz | 2h

well i’m glad? as long as you guys are happy ig. idk what’s up with gay people

u/throwawaylizard | 2h

thank you! i’m not gay though.

u/japansfinest | 1h

HOLY SHIT NING

u/throwawaylizard | 1h

OMG DONT DOX ME???

u/japansfinest | 1h

GIRL BE SERIOUS RN 😐😐

u/1800hotnfun | 1h

i strive to live as blissfully ignorant as you, op

u/throwawaylizard | 1h

not very sure if this is a compliment.

things had reverted back to normal. yizhuo was happy again and it seemed like everything was fine.

so how did she get here?

yizhuo had simply gone out to get groceries for your dinner together and when she arrived home, hands full of plastic bags, she heard the tail of your conversation over the phone.

“i don’t think she’s picking up my hints, yun,” you say in hushed whispers, “maybe she really is straight. or she just doesn’t like me.”

despite yizhuo’s moral compass, she decides to listen in on your conversation. she’s never heard of you liking someone before, or being so insecure. what girl wouldn’t like you back? and you liked a straight girl too?

she can’t hear yunjin’s reply but you let out an exasperated sigh, “maybe she thinks i’m just being a really good friend. i thought she would have already realised i liked her by now. your whole jealousy plan didn’t work either. i mean, it did but not really.”

yizhuo slowly twists the door knob before loudly announcing, “i’m home!”

she hopes that by now, you would have ended the call so she wouldn’t have to interact with yunjin at all.

“oh,” she catches the anxiety in your voice, “did you get everything?”

“yup. there was a sale on apples, so i got those too,” yizhuo says, a little too cheerfully, but she wants to cover up any nervousness. as she places the bags on the kitchen counter, you stand up to help unpack everything.

while you start to arrange all the groceries, yizhuo thinks about your words. liking someone. a girl. a straight girl who was potentially oblivious to your advances?

yizhuo scrunches her nose.

sounds…

familiar.

“hey, did you get healthier milk? the one with less sugar added.”

as you twirl around to ask, yizhuo’s heart gets caught in her throat.

she was the straight oblivious girl.

“uh— yeah. i got both,” she gestures awkwardly to the pile of bags. you nod and go back to sorting everything out. god, she needs a breather. trudging to the couch, she sighs as the softness envelops her. she couldn’t wrap her head around this— you liked her? potentially? definitely?

yizhuo spends the next few minutes having an existential crisis. she was straight! the straight girl that you liked! and that whole jealousy thing with yunjin! you planned that! she can’t believe it. all her nights were spent debating whether she was homophobic or not and it was all a rouse to get her jealous? well, was she jealous? minjeong had seemed intent on getting her to admit that, which she did. but maybe it was because she was jealous of yunjin.

not for taking up your time.

but for being able to touch you and hold you in ways she can’t.

holy shit. she’s not as straight as she once thought.

and she has a huge crush on her roommate.

how could she let reddit comments be right?!

yizhuo stares blankly at the ceiling. you call out from the kitchen, “do you want white or red wine?”

she stands up from the couch, resolute in her decision now.

no wonder you had looked so offended after she sister zoned you! yizhuo would hate it too if all she was to you was an unnie. she wanted— no, needed to be your everything.

“yizhuo?” you ask again, examining the two bottles of wine.

yizhuo almost sprints into the kitchen. the sight of you with your hair up, the cute lace white apron wrapped around your waist, and your focused expression. it has her drooling. everything was so domestic.

how hasn’t yizhuo noticed this sooner?

“white wine please,” she answers when you’re within arms reach.

“are we drinking the whole bottle?”

she stretches out her arms to engulf your body in hers and reads the label on the wine bottle over your shoulder. taking gratification in the way your body shudders, yizhuo hides a pleased smirk.

“hm, should we?” she whispers hotly beside your ear. you shiver before muttering, “maybe. is tonight a special occasion?”

“i mean, it could be,” yizhuo grins, “you were promoted recently, right?”

tonight was one of your day-offs, and you came back recently, boasting about the extra time off you got from being promoted. of course that was celebrated with a simple get together with friends. but yizhuo didn’t get her own special celebration with you.

“yeah? okay, we’ll drink it all then.”

yizhuo smiles into your hair. she’s never felt happier. knowing that her inner frustrations had been settled finally. you were just trying to get her jealous. a good attempt nonetheless, it worked incredibly well. but now she’s certain of her own feelings.

“you smell nice,” she blurts out.

“i used your shampoo. ran out of mine.”

“mhm. smells good.”

yizhuo spots the hint of satisfaction on your face.

“are you complimenting yourself right now?”

“i have really good taste,” she states.

you roll your eyes playfully before detaching her arms but she just slithers them back into place.

“ning, i have to cook.”

“hold on,” she mumbles, “i think we can celebrate another thing.”

sensing your confusion, she continues brazenly, “we can celebrate our first night as a couple, right?”

“what—”

“i’m sorry for being so oblivious this whole time. i got so pissy because i was jealous. apparently, i’m not straight. or i just like you, i don’t know yet. all i know is that i envision myself by your side,” yizhuo explains, “everytime you mentioned yunjin i got upset and it’s because i thought you guys were dating. that’s why i didn’t like any of the girls you brought home either. i’m sorry for saying you’re like my sister. i like you a lot. not in a straight girl way.”

she hears you gasp and she can’t bring herself to continue without your reaction. yizhuo’s been through so much struggle with coming to terms with her identity and feelings and now she wants to get it all out.

“are you serious?” you ask without facing her. she chuckles at the redness at the tips of your ears.

“yeah. sorry for being a jerk. it was because i like you.”

“ning yizhuo— i… wait, let go of me for a minute. i wanna look at you.”

reluctantly, she does so.

you look so pretty under the kitchen light, yizhuo thinks.

“uhm, where do i even start?” you chuckle awkwardly, “i really thought you were into me when we first met and when you said you were straight… i think my heart died a little! but it’s okay, since you’ve been such a great friend to me. i must admit that yunjin did volunteer to be my plot device to make you jealous. i was hurt when you were being rude, so i’m happy you apologised. i like you too. a lot.”

yizhuo grins, heart beating wildly against her chest.

“can you say that again?”

“i like you a lot, yizhuo. can’t believe you called me a sister though.”

“i said i was sorry!”

r/relationships posted by

u/throwawaylizard 7 hours ago.

LAST UPDATE: my (22f) gay roommate’s (21f) dating life makes me feel weird. she’s one of my best friends but now i’m wondering if i could be homophobic.

hello! i’m glad to announce that this situation has finally been settled with a happy ending. i would like to give you guys a proper explanation and ending for all the help you provided.

first of all, yes, i’m not straight. or maybe i just like A. i haven’t explored that part yet but also, i’m in love with my roommate. i was jealous of all the girls she brought over and i wanted to be the one holding her and making her laugh.

second of all, you guys were right. she was using Y to make me jealous and it worked. so maybe she’s the real mastermind.

and lastly, we’re finally dating. we’ve been taking things slow for now since this is all new to me but A has been incredibly sweet and supportive (as she always is). it’s just a new experience but i’m willing to do anything as long as A is by my side.

thank you all for the help and comments!

it turns out i don’t have any problems with A kissing girls if it’s me she’s kissing.

⇧ 359 | ⇩ | 153 comments

#aespa #aespa x reader #aespa x fem reader #ning yizhuo x reader #ningning x reader #yizhuo x reader #ning yizhuo #ningning

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amoeganism · 4 months ago

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HIT BRAKE! sae itoshi

(Sae needs to practice his goals and you… driving)

~3.8k words, humor, fluff, angst if you grab a magnifying glass, use of soccer instead of football (i have too much pride to do that), theyre so polar opposite they unfortunately come full circle and match each others freak

Sae Itoshi returned to Japan with several new things under his belt:

The ability to speak spanish (although his grammar structure can use some help from time to time)

An insane growth spurt

Probably shell shock syndrome

And the scariest new update to a chronic Resting Bitch Face that you had the displeasure of seeing thrown your way when you accidentally ran over his ball driving home. Maybe this is why most Japanese people rely on public transport instead of using their licenses

TWO was the number of times you had failed your driver’s test. Yes, you could always use the bus or ask your friends for a ride, but college doesn’t start for another few weeks and you’re determined by pure stubbornness to be driver certified before starting school. You think you’re doing pretty good so far: no accidents, no being pulled over, no getting cursed, and no one loudly complaining about your skills (no one has trusted you to drive them). The only thing you had left to master was parallel parking.

It was a legacy in your family to be horrible at city parking.

One of your earliest memories was in the backseat of a rental car in a foreign country while your mother tried to park on the side of the street, only to get honked at by cars and drive against the flow of vehicles in a one-way zone.

A bag of groceries lie in the trunk of your car as you drive to your family’s home. Humming along to the song softly playing through the radio, you slow down as you near the residential area, confident that this drive will end without a single thing gone wrong. Without speaking, you jinx your thoughts as you jolt when your car goes over a bump and a loud wheeze follows it. Turning your head to the side, your entire body freezes and your eyes go wide upon seeing the pissed off glare of Sae Itoshi, the infamous Japanese soccer player who just returned from Spain with a sexy tan.

With a shaky hand, you roll down your window and immediately start tumbling over your rushed apologies. You don’t even understand what you’re saying but you hope that Itoshi somehow understands. When he doesn’t react, which is what you expected but it hurts nonetheless, you immediately shut up and tumble out of your car before getting on your knees and seeing what you ran over.

Your hand reaches and pulls out a deflated soccer ball, the entire thing flat with a large hole on the side from when it got run over by your car. You almost feel inclined to inflate it with the tears that are about to spill out of your eyes but the only realistic and socially acceptable choice was to give it to Itoshi and once again, apologize but with words that he and the average person can understand.

Itoshi mumbles a “it’s okay” before taking the ball (can you even call it that?) a once-over. “I have more at home, I’ll just throw it out.”

“Holy shit I’m so sorry about that I can buy you a new one just please don’t sue me I can’t afford a good lawyer, I’m in student loan debt.”

“...why would I sue you?” he asks, his face slightly scrunched up in confusion. It’s not much different from his normal expression, just a slight crease of his brows but it makes all the difference.

“I didn’t mean to assume that you’re gonna sue me, please don’t sue me for assuming!” You think that you should begin to pack your bags and take out a loan to move to another country. It would be easier to be a criminal than to deal with a conversation with a guy who multiplies your humiliation. “I just thought that you might get your super prestigious and rich and wealthy and prosperous and exquisitely-copious-in-currency soccer team on my ass ‘cause I ran over one of their balls,” you nervously rambled. Your face heats up at every word and one Itoshi divides into two Itoshis and two Itoshis split into four.

“Are you schizophrenic? I thought you were normal back in middle school,” sixty-eight Itoshis say in unison.

Your body freezes, the now one hundred twenty-eight Itoshis all morphing back into one. “Wait, we went to middle school together?”

“Uh, yeah,�� he blinks, this time looking even more awkward than you. “We were in the same class for two years straight and I sat next to you the semester before I left. I think I would remember the kid who slept through each period but still got all the answers right when called on.”

“Oh!” You perk up at the recollection of a scrawny red-haired boy from five years ago, one who would try to not-so-discreetly look at your worksheet answers and peek at your notes during class. “You’re the boy who would always copy off my work. I do remember you!”

“Is that all you remember about me?” If Itoshi were any other person, you’d say he looked uncomfortable but all he did was tilt his head a little more to the left and shift on his feet.

“I mean, the only reason why you remember me is ‘cause I saved your academics without even knowing. Don’t think I didn’t hear our teacher whispering ‘good job’ to you while returning our tests and how you suddenly moved up in our class rankings.”

“Well you didn’t bother to hide anything when you were snoozing away so whose fault really is it?”

“You were gonna leave for Spain, anyway!” you point out, remembering being pissed off when hearing the reason why your seatmate left was because he was some kind of sport prodigy, basically having his entire future as a star secured at the age of thirteen.

“My parents would’ve killed me and held me by my feet if I flunked.” Itoshi grimaced, kissing his teeth and brushing his hair back as it had fallen over his eyes. His cheeks had returned to its usual color, removing the red flush of running and exhaustion.

“Huh, I guess I should be credited for your success. Spain should thank me.”

“Are we forgetting that I’m the one who plays the sport?” Sae’s voice came out harsher than he intended and cut through the playful atmosphere by the first syllable. His demeanor appeared unchanged but he felt himself tense.

Conversation had never been strong for Sae, only ever talking when he needed to and the most of his words going to his teammates on the field or his little brother. His success was a sensitive subject whether he liked to admit it or not. Spain served as an eye-opener to the teenage boy, being left in a country where no one looked like you and no one spoke your language. The only thing he could rely on was a translator he barely trusted and the expressions of the people around him.

When you don’t respond, Sae observes your face, noticing how you began to fidget with your fingers just as you had when you first stepped out of the car. You weren’t his previous coaches; you were just a former classmate who he happened to run into, or rather, you drove into. It was too late to laugh and he felt slightly guilty at freaking out someone that wasn’t his brother, an opponent, or a bothersome news anchor.

“If you want to repay me for the ball, meet me at the sports store nearby.”

“Sorry, but I don’t really know where you’re talking about,” you sheepishly reply, wanting to sink more into the ground with every word. You decide that talking to athletes is more tiring than playing an actual sport.

“Give me your number, I’ll send you the address.”

You hand him your phone, hoping he doesn’t comment on the horrendously cracked screen protector that you had been telling yourself to replace for months. At the same time, you also want him to notice the small possibility of him offering to buy you a new one, taking advantage of rich people or whatever. “I can pick you up if you don’t mind.”

“Should I trust you to drive me?” he asks, carefully looking between you and your car with his turquoise eyes as if analyzing his opponents on a field, only, this was a residential street and the only other player was a balding middle aged man walking his dog.

“I mean, you’ll be my first passenger so you can find out for everyone else.”

“If I get into an accident I’ll sue you for real.”

“I’ll try not to, I don’t have a job anymore and I’m going to college soon so even if I do please be merciful I swear I have good intentions.”

“Pick me up tomorrow at 11 and I’ll give you a review,” he decides, handing over his phone with the contact ‘Sae Itoshi’ at the top of your phone and the name of a sports store sent to your conversation. You ponder for a moment about asking for a contact picture but you’d like to stay alive for at least one more day so you bid him farewell and sit back in the driver’s seat, hoping he doesn’t hate your taste in music when you turn the radio back on.

—

The Itoshi residence is rather normal, differing from your expectation of a lavish mansion with fountains and fences of gold, given that Sae was a famous athlete and his younger brother Rin was known throughout the prefecture for being a mini Sae. The previous night when you had just finished brushing your teeth, your phone screen illuminated with the presence of a new notification: a text from the older Itoshi.

>make sure you don’t have anything planned for tomorrow

>i’ll need to try each ball out

>you did this to yourself

>shitty driver

A jolt of pain had struck your pride, crumbling your ego at the realization that he was, unfortunately, right about needing to sacrifice your entire afternoon to babysit a (grown) stranger whom you haven’t talked to in years; those conversations were brief, lacking any substance to consider them actual conversations. For a moment, the thought of bailing on him had crossed your mind, the idea of leaving him stranded at his residence while you enjoyed a night in, marinating before a tumultuous college career seemed insatiably tempting.

Disaster struck when you Googled Sae Itoshi’s net worth, his bank account leading you right to his front doorstep.

“Don’t get into any car accidents,” Sae told you as he dipped his head down to step into the passenger’s side of your car. You were suddenly struck with a moment of insecurity; a wealthy athlete who could probably buy your family and your ancestor’s mummified corpses is sitting in your car and is probably rich enough to get away with murdering you for having half a particle of dust fall onto his lap.

You realized you zoned out when Sae cleared his throat, blinking a few times at you with an unamused expression and eyebrows furrowed in judgment. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine, man. Just trying to remember the name of the place you mentioned. It’s a technique I use where if I think really hard in the same place I was when I thought of that thought, that thought I had thought of can reappear in my thoughtless mind.” You aren’t sure if you understand what you’re saying but you think you can get away with spouting bullshit if you use enough hand movements like a person on TedTalk.

“What the actual fuck are you saying?” Sae doesn’t seem to believe you but you’re an innovator—you simplify the problem down to something the average person (underling) can understand.

“Can you give me the address again..?”

“You’re a freak.”

Sae picks up your phone, which was opened to the navigator app, and quickly typed in the name of the sporting good’s shop he had mentioned the day before. It was a small place, smaller than you would expect a star athlete to go to for equipment but you suppose it makes sense at the same time: less people, less paparazzi, less crazed fans, and a selection of items picked specifically for trained athletes.

“So, uh, are you gonna make me pay for the ball too ‘cause I’m at least, like, five yen in student loan debt,” you sheepishly ask, hoping Sae can appreciate your humility in being a college student, taking a step forward in life by pursuing a higher education.

“How cheap are you?” Sae scoffs, letting out a sound that started off as half of a chuckle but ended as a constipated grunt, making him sound like a diseased lab-grown goat that was raised by war-stricken alien society. You think Sae should become an experimental musical artist if soccer doesn’t work out, sorta like a fucked up version of Björk who’s slightly less musically talented and a total cunt instead.

“I’m not cheap! I’m just curious. I brought my credit card just in case. I’m a responsible adult; this is all for budgeting and logging my payments or whatever else people do to save money.”

“You’re lucky you’re funny,” Sae comments as if it’s the most nonchalant thing in the world. For you though, you almost stepped on the breaks and begged him to repeat what he said. It would have been just another condescending compliment from anyone else but Sae Itoshi is notorious for not humoring anyone in the media and you quickly realized, even those in real life. Before you could doubt your memory, Sae opens his mouth again. “You lucked out on pretty privilege. All the bullshit you say would not slide if it came from any other person. I’m convinced the only social experience you have is talking to a mud wall.”

Any negative statement he had made went through one ear and directly out the other, keeping only the compliments for your brain to process. Without noticing, a giddy smile appeared on your face and to Sae, it was wildly masochistic the way you tolerated his foul personality and even relishing in his attention—no matter good or bad. He could almost pity you, deducing your attitude as a lack of self respect, but you somehow manage to surprise him every time.

“Nah, I think I had a lot of friends. I don’t know if we were actually friends but I knew their names so it’s probably good enough. Speaking of, there was this guy named Kota who I knew when I was seven and he seemed pretty cool until I caught him picking at his feet in the middle of class. Sometimes I wonder how he’s doing and if he’s still collecting foot gunk. But yeah, I think you’re just self projecting with the whole ‘no people, only soccer’ thing and moving to Spain with zero spanish skills. Damn, wait, that’s kinda sad. Shit, now I feel bad,” you take a look at Sae, searching for any sort of discomfort or offense but he simply shrugged.

“It’s whatever, they all bothered me anyways. I was there to play soccer, not make lifelong friends. It’s not like I’m gonna stay in Spain forever. I’m back in Japan to renew my passport ‘cause I know I’m gonna come back eventually.”

“You’ve already made a name for yourself and you’re making insane money that can last more than a lifetime for the average person once your contract is over. It’s not gonna be long before you get onto the Olympic team for Japan. When you do make it on, you better thank me for making sure you kept on playing by bringing you to buy a replacement for a ball I ran over.”

You drove into a parking lot with two other cars directly in front of the sports shop. The building was in the middle of a small plaza, adjacent to an udon shop and a bar. It was undoubtedly an odd place for a sports shop to be and that might have been what caught Sae’s eye in the first place. In the window display, a tennis racket and a pair of soccer cleats are put on display and on the glass door, countless advertisements for events and brands are taped on, each barely correlating to the others.

Right in the corner of the shop is the checkout where an elderly man sits, scribbling something in a beaten journal. There is a stack of newspapers behind him, every issue marked with highlighted annotations and then neatly folded as if it were untouched. Sae greeted the man and turned to find someone else, this time, being a younger man who appeared to be in his thirties or forties. He gave Sae a warm smile and shook his hand, not as a business partner, but as an acquaintance.

It’s here that you realize you’ll never be able to see the world the way Sae does. In your car he was just another boy in your neighborhood that you decided to get to know. But to others, he was Sae Itoshi, a prodigy who could conquer the world with just himself and a pair of cleats. Although his eyes are dimmed and his apathy anything but silent, his shine was lost to know one and when he boards a plane back to Spain while you settle into college, you think you’d be content calling him a shooting star.

Sae notices that you stopped following him and turns around in confusion, tilting his head to motion you to follow him. It takes a breath before you put your hands in the pocket of your jacket and tentatively follow him. It wasn’t until you walked into the store that you truly realized how out of place you felt and if it were just you and Sae, you might’ve thought to ask him what everything did. He’d call you a dense fuck and tell you that he plays soccer, that he doesn’t deal with anything else. You had even the smallest bit of shame so you kept your mouth shut and continued to trail after him, stealing glances at the stacked shelves until the employee came to a halt.

Before you was a wall, lined with four shelves of nothing but soccer balls, each decorated with the signatures of different brands and their series’.

“The guy said I can try them out in the back.” Sae tapped your shoulder and grabbed onto the fabric of your jacket, dragging you with him like a pet cat. “They have a lot of empty space there. You can help me carry everything I want to try.”

Agreeing turned out to be a mistake. In your arms you struggled to carry six different balls, with Sae dribbling one between his feet as the owner of the stop unlocked the door to the back where Sae would be testing things out. You felt like an overworked butler from some bad comic and in your head, you imagined yourself as a fainting princess—a damsel in distress being overworked by the evil kingdom in which she is supposed to be respected.

“Stop being dramatic,” Sae sighed, noticing your dejected pout and lost eyes. He could almost pity you if you didn’t look comically pathetic in the moment, almost adorable if he wanted to be slightly sentimental. “You can put them all down now. Just sit here and wait. Take a nap or something, you’ll be fine.”

The lack of standards you have would be an issue to address at a later date because the barely comforting words of the ever eloquent motivational speaker Sae Itoshi had you immediately perking up and cheering for him.

“Go! Go! You got this! Get that goal, ugly!”

“Who are you calling ugly? I could knock you out with this ball, you know. If you want to be supportive, don't be a freak.”

“Are you really gonna disrespect the only fan you have at the moment? What if I tweet about this and get you canceled or some shit?”

“Do you really think I care about that?”

“...no…”

“...”

“Whatever. Do what you want.”

“Kick that ball, little boy! You’re a prodigy! Number one soccer player in the world! Bend that net over!”

—

By the time Sae had finished shooting several goals and alternating dribbling between them at least five times, the sun had set and your throat was sore from bullshit cheering, half of which were incoherent sounds of moral support. Sae grabbed an unopened box of the ball he had chosen and denied a pump when offered one. When he placed the cardboard packaging onto the checkout table, your wallet was in your hand and ready to check out and pay off your debt to the Itoshi.

However, you were met with a receipt in your hand instead and a farewell from the owner, bidding you and Sae a happy rest of your day. You quickly turned your head toward Sae, mouth agape as your brain twitched, trying to process if he was fucking with you or not.

“Do you want me to pay you online or write a check or what? Wait, why did you pay? I thought I owed you it? My complaining earlier was all joking. I literally popped your old ball. The least I can do is pay for a new one!” You rant, quickly taking your phone out of your bag to open up your banking app but Sae was quicker to take your hand in his and bring it down to where it was before.

“And I was fucking with you too, dumbass. Or are you too stupid to remember back in the car how I didn’t respond to you asking if you needed to pay? Start listening, will you?”

“I think this is the meanest act of generosity I’ve ever seen.”

“I’m not being generous, I’m telling you that you owe me something else.”

“What the fuck?” You’re perplexed by the audacity of this man. You hope his athletic career flops and every brand deal that he has gotten offered drops him. “Are you gonna start charging me an insane amount of interest like a loan shark? Dude, aren’t you rich?”

“I’m not asking for money.”

“Then what is it?”

“Go on a date with me.”

“Are you being for real right now?” You’re still perplexed by the audacity of this man. You’re perplexed by how his words are chosen to form the most foul sentences with sweet meanings. You’re perplexed by how out of all who know him, and all whom he knows, he would take an interest in you. But you’re a selfish person—if Sae Itoshi is offering his beauty and his awful personality to you, then you’ll take it with all your heart.

You move to Sae’s side, putting everything in your hands into your bag and intertwining your fingers with his, a dumb smile planted on your face. As you skip to the car and swing your hands between the two of you, Sae Itoshi’s grin is highlighted by the golden glow of the setting sun.

He really can’t wait to come home.

#itoshi sae #itoshi sae x reader #sae itoshi x reader #sae itoshi #blue lock x reader #blue lock sae #blue lock itoshi sae #bllk sae #bllk itoshi sae #bllk x reader #bllk fluff #bllk #blue lock #blue lock fluff #this fic is my farm fed organic almond baby

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plotsignificanthaircut555 · 6 months ago

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Paper Thin Walls

Your neighbor, Nanami Kento, comes over four times complaining about noise. And then a fifth time. AO3

Warnings: SMUT, MDNI, 18+ Only. fem! reader, grumpy! nanami, angsty, some light vouyerism, through the wall masturbation overhearing (does that count?), cunnalingus, riding, penetrative sex, reader has female anatomy, dirty talk, kissing, not explicit spit this time but i sneak it in there (and i always will), DIRTY, NASTY, WET,

Word count: 8.2k,we looooove a bad neighbors enemies to lovers, sorry y'all but i eat it up every time, i hope y'all do too. This is probably the grumpiest i have ever written Nanami but i hope the soft at the end gave you guys the sweetie that we all know and love, especially on this blog.

THUNK THUNK THUNK

You nearly dropped the bottle of wine you were uncorking when you heard the loud, impassioned knocking on your front door. Your friends quieted their conversation and looked to the door, a mixture of shock and confusion on their faces.

How embarrassing.

You rolled your eyes, already fed up with what you knew would be on the other side of the wood. You gesture to your friends to continue enjoying themselves as you would handle it. They tentatively turn back to one another huddled around your small coffee table dressed with snacks and cups. You had worked hard on this party, you didn’t get to see your friends very often so being able to enjoy a night together to relax and catch up was so valuable to you. And no dickhead neighbor with a stick up his ass was going to ruin it. Walking to the door you drew in a strained breath, trying to smooth your irritation, before unlocking, unlatching and just barely opening the door. Even just a crack was enough to see him seething in front of you.

Kento Nanami, your neighbor. Your very irritable neighbor. The one man HOA of your apartment complex floor. Your neighbor who, since you moved in three months ago, has stopped by your apartment three times to badger you about your noise level. You had lived in apartments your whole adult life, not once has anyone complained about you, you were a MODEL neighbor: kind, social but not overbearing, always said hello in the hallway, happy to watch pets or plants while people were out of town, you are a goddamn delight as a neighbor.

It was this fucking guy who had the problem, huffing at your doorstep in his stupid little American girl doll glasses and overly neat button up shirt that he probably pressed every morning before getting dressed.

And once again, here he stood, vein in his head pulsing against his skin, elevens creased in his forehead between his scowling eyebrows, jaw muscle looking on the verge of snapping.

“Ms—.” He started but you cut him off.

“Good evening Mr. Nanami, to what do I owe the pleasure,” you smiled jovially, as though his presence wasn’t a nuisance, “this time.”

“Good evening. Yes, it is the evening, isn’t it?” He made a little show of checking his bulky silver watch.

“I’m sure the very expensive looking watch on your arm could tell you that it’s 8:45 pm. A very normal time for people to be enjoying themselves, especially on a Friday night.” You leaned your head against the doorframe looking at him, “Having a little…movie night in?”

He stared at you a moment, his eyes moving over your face coldly, eyeing your sly smile,

“so you know I’m here about the noise.”

“You’ve never come to my apartment for another reason.” You sighed, “call it a hunch, I guess?”

A laugh came from inside of your apartment, louder than the ambient music you were playing, not exactly helping your case.

Nanami rolled his eyes at the laughing,“Quiet hours start at—“

“10. And I plan on honoring them, I just have some old friends over tonight. We’ll be sure to keep our joy and fun to an acceptable level.” You were feeding him the lines you knew he wanted to hear, but your performance wasn’t exactly impassioned.

His jaw tightened again, you imagined the sound of his back teeth grinding together. He looked down at you silently and you stared right back up at him. A silent battle was had between your stares, him trying to intimidate you into the silence he craved, and you not backing down even an inch.

Finally he caved, “I would appreciate that. I am sure the rest of the hallway would as well. Good night.”

“Enjoy the rest of your night, Mr. Nanami.” You called down to him as he turned and stomped down the hallway to his own door.

Right. Next. Door.

You rejoined your friends and enjoyed the rest of your night exactly as you had before. Not turning any music down, not stifling any laughter, not dulling any conversation for the sake of thin walls. Every now and again you took a private moment to imagine your neighbor seething in his quiet, perfect little apartment all by himself.

“So….are we going to talk about how hot your neighbor is?” Soph, your best friend, posed.

“Thank you for saying something. I barely saw him but oh my GOD.” Kat, your oldest friend added.

You laughed, it was undeniable how handsome he was, when you first saw him as you settled in in your first week you secretly hoped he might stop by to introduce himself, entertaining the fantasy of him coming over to help you “fix something” a few too many times before even finding out his name.

“Sure he’s hot, when he keeps his mouth shut.” You sighed, annoyed, busying yourself refilling glasses, “What a waste, honestly. I’m tired of guys who think they’re too hot to be nice to people. Not even nice, just fucking polite is fine.”

Your friends laughed.

“When I moved in, a bunch of the other neighbors stopped by to say hello. Not him, I would only ever see him in the hallway and he wouldn’t wave, wouldn’t say hello, nothing. He’s so…..serious.” You sipped your drink remembering the times you had tried to say hello to him in the hallway only to be met with a half nod and a hurry into his apartment, “First time he ever even spoke to me was to tell me the sound of my moving in was too much.”

Soph pouted, sipping her refilled, “That’s a shame. I was going to say you should try and hit that.”

“Who knows,” Kat posed, “maybe getting laid would help him relax?”

The three of you laughed, surely sending the noise through the wall and into the subject of debate’s apartment.

This had been your fourth offense against him. Nanami was fed up, he had been polite the first few times, but this was getting out of hand. You had only moved in a few months ago, there was no excuse for him to have had to go over there this many times already. Sitting on his couch, drafting a complaint email to the main residential office, another roar of laughter rang from the back wall of his apartment. Nanami groaned and slumped against the back of the couch, rubbing his aching forehead. This much irritation can’t be good for him.

He had been spoiled by the place next to him having gone unoccupied for so long. He’s lived in this apartment for two years, going on a third, and nearly all of that time has been spent with no one next door. At first he assumed he was just sensitive and needed to acclimate to having someone nearby, but it was like you were broadcasting every sound directly into his living room.

The worst part was the bedroom walls. He deduced that the layout of your apartment must be a direct mirror of his own, inverted but identical, meaning the back wall of his bedroom must be the back wall of your bedroom as well. He could hear the noise from you sleeping with your television on, a terrible habit that he abhorred. He could hear the music you would play in the mornings when you were presumably getting ready for work. And for you to be so curt with him when he politely tries to let you know how easily he can hear you? It was unreasonable.

The first time had been within the second week of you moving in. You were setting up some furniture, sounds of hammering, scooting, drilling ringing through the walls and keeping him from sleeping in on a SUNDAY morning. He had gotten up from bed, thrown on some more presentable loungewear and knocked on your door. That was the first time he had really seen you, kind eyes, pretty smile, smooth, even skin. You smiled up at him when you opened the door, all too awake for such early weekend hours.

“Excuse me. My name is Nanami Kento, I live next door. Would you mind keeping the noise down a bit? It’s still pretty early.”

Your smile sagged a bit, “sure! I’m sorry, I guess I’m getting used to how thin the walls are here. I’ll keep it down.”

“Thank you.” He nodded, “and…welcome to the building.”

“Thank you! It’s nice to meet you.” You had smiled back at him, small dimples appearing by your mouth.

He could have fallen for you, allowed himself the rare indulgence of crushing on you. If that had been your only offense.

The second incident was how he discovered that your bedrooms shared a wall. He had come home late from the gym. It was around two o'clock in the morning, he drug himself back home and into the shower, sleeping threatening to take him even under the heavy spray. Work had been about four hours too long, his head was aching, his workout had offered some relief but the only thing that would truly fix it at this point was the hard reset of sleep. Nanami pulled himself into bed, not even bothering to dress, choosing to ignore the remaining water that would sink into his sheets. That would be a problem for another day. Head on the pillow, cool bedding soothing his heated skin he could barely contain how excited he was to finally sleep, when he heard it.

“o-oh….”

It was so faint he assumed it was in his head, the product of an oncoming dream seeping over into his waking world. Ears tuning in against his will, he was able to hear the faint buzzing. He shot up, renewed energy brought about by the awareness of what was happening next door. You, his neighbor, were masturbating and he could hear you. He felt his ears get hot, his heart quicken, and --- oh christ his pants tighten. Soft moans sounding through the wall, quickening in pace, buzzing battering his brain to mush as he began to panic. He didn’t want to listen, it was wrong, this was wrong. Fuck, was his mouth watering?

Fuck. fuck. Fuck!

He squeezed his eyes shut, covering his face with his pillow, clamping the cushion around his head over his ears in desperation. Nanami was relieved when your wimpers were snuffed out. Under the darkness of his pillow he hoped he could finally begin to fall asleep, but through the void an image began to appear behind his eyes. You, his pretty neighbor laying on your back, legs open, finger in your mouth trying to quiet yourself. How ineffective. You had been just the slightest bit sweaty when he first spoke to you. The act of dragging and pushing furniture having given your skin the slightest sheen. He was willing to bet that you had a similar glow about you now; working a toy between your legs, bed covers discarded at your ankles, a wet spot growing underneath your shaking hips---

FUCK.

Nanami sat up in a jerk, shaking his head side to side as though he could physically dislodge the picture out of his mind through one of his ears. With the pillow removed he could hear your moans rising in pitch, his dick pulsed. Fuck, this was so wrong. Were you about to climax? His heart was pounding, he was rock solid between his legs, he gripped the bed sheets tight to restrain himself from caving and pumping himself into oblivion with you. In the sickest part of his mind he wanted to press his ear up to the adjoining wall, listening to your languid moans, indulging himself fully in your passion.

Finally, as though fate could feel his resolve starting to crumble, he heard a long high pitch whine escape through the drywall. Then silence. Then the sound of laughter from whatever tv show you put on to go to sleep. He was panting, trying to catch his breath, much as he imagined you were. He laid back against his pillow, staring up to the ceiling, mind reeling over the possibility of this happening again. How could he avoid this in the future? Should he politely inform you of the mirrored apartment layout and the thinness of the walls?

Nanami purchased a white noise machine the following day. Only after stopping by your apartment and asking you to keep the television noise lower at night, saying he was a light sleeper. He hoped you would make the connection that he was struggling towards, voice clipped and cheeks blushing furiously as he nodded and retreated to his own domicile. He leaned up the door as he shut it behind himself, sighing in relief, praying that this would be the end of it and he could forget the saccharine sweet sound of your moans.

The third incident was far less indecent, but no less annoying. He was home early from work, having taken off an hour or so before he usually would as he completed a big project that had taken over two weeks and was dead tired. All he wanted was to eat dinner, watch a movie, relax and push all the numbers and negotiations out of his head. Apparently you had the same idea. When you arrived home, he knew because your slamming door shook his wall as well. It had been a week or so since he last heard you but still the sound brought a crimson flush to his face. He didn’t hear much after that for about a half hour, that is, until you turned on your music. Loud, bossa nova or jazz or whatever it was sponging into the insulation between your two abodes and resounding around his own apartment. He couldn’t hear the movie he had put on, he couldn’t enjoy his dinner, hell— he could barely think. He had given you a pass when it was intimate noise but this was unruly and excessive.

He stomped out into the hallway, the music echoing out there as well. And over to your door. He knocked, maybe a bit too hard, and waited for your arrival. When you did open the door, after just enough time for him to consider knocking again, he once again had to look down to meet your eye line. Music flooded out from the doorway, warm amber light, and the smell of sizzling peppers and oil wafting out, carried by the soundwaves.

“Hello again, neighbor!” You greeted him, smiling warmly with big, full eyes.

“The music.” He hadn’t meant to sound so stiff, he had intended to greet you politely and remind you of the wall's thinness but he had had it. Here you were enjoying your cooking and music and inhibiting his ability to do the same, it was unfair, unjust.

You sighed leaning against the door frame huffing out, “We just can't seem to find a comfortable level, huh? You picked a good movie, very suspenseful soundtrack, one of my favorites actually.”

Nanami straightened up like a shot, how could he have been so stupid? His television was right up against the “back” wall of his apartment, right against your kitchen wall. The sounds of his apartment, although infrequent, had echoed through your walls too. How many sounds, he wondered.

“You--I’m sorry, I didn’t realize.” He began but then hardened again, “You should have told me to turn it down, I would have been more than happy to oblige.”

“Hm.” Your lips formed a tight line, “I’m not really into ordering strangers around in their own homes.”

It was the first and only time you had sassed off to him. He was taken aback, he could feel his neck heating up under the collar of his shirt, his fists balling up at his sides as he furrows his brow at your disrespect.

Scoffing, he finds the words, “just be courteous to your neighbors.”

Nanami descends down the hallway, flexing and un-flexing his hands in measured attempts at cooling himself, before he could step into his apartment you called down after him.

“The therapist was dead the whole time, that’s why his wife won't speak to him! The guy at the beginning shot and killed him!” You shouted and slammed the door behind you.

It was an incredibly childish move on your part. If someone had done that to you, or if you had even heard of someone desecrating the ending of one of the best mystery thrillers of all time, you would have been furious. But something about this man brought out such pettiness in you. You couldn't help it. You half expected him to knock again and berate you for spoiling his night once again, but instead you heard the sound of his apartment door shutting and the movie resume.

Credit for sticking it out and watching the movie anyway. You couldn't help but smirk a bit, impressed.

It has enough legs to stand on its own even without the twist, it really is a good movie, you felt bad for wrecking it. It really was one of your favorites, similar tastes. Maybe this whole time you could have been friends. Although, you couldn't imagine being friends with someone so stuffy and entitled. It didn’t matter that he watched some of the same movies, so did lots of people. It didn’t matter that he was handsome and well dressed. It didn’t matter that when he played music in the mornings it overlapped with your favorite artists. He was an ass and never even bothered to introduce himself once before complaining about you.

This back and forth had brought you all the way to tonight, him trying to reign in your party, stifling your enjoyment of it and making you hyper aware of every loud burst of laughter or adjustment of the volume. Despite your efforts to ignore it at this point, the desire to be a courteous neighbor occasionally won you over and you found yourself engaging in more subtle, intimate conversations, lowering the music and talking softer.

When the party finally came to an end and your friends kissed you goodbye and left, giggling down the hall, you waved to them and watched as they slipped down the hallway. Your eyes fell on the neighboring apartment's door, you checked the time. It was just after ten, Nanami was probably asleep, snoozing soundly after having gotten his words in about your party and your carelessness. Feeling the bile of anger rising in your throat, you decided to turn back and retreat to your own apartment. The soft unlocking sound brought you back to the empty hall.

Nanami stepped out, wearing a pair of expensive looking sweatpants and a dark grey sweatshirt. Even through such baggy clothing you could see his impeccable build, thick, ropey neck, broad shoulders, long, sturdy legs. His hair was down and unstyled, sandy stranded falling onto his forehead, some even extending far enough to brush against the bridge of his nose. A pair of headphones hung around his neck. He looked right back at you.

“You’ve had headphones this whole time?” Was all you could think to say.

“Everyone has headphones.” He shrugged leaning against his door frame.

You wanted to think of something snappy to say back, but your tongue felt fat in your mouth. You had never seen him like this before, completely undone, hair mussed, body relaxed in place of his rigid posture, clearly exhausted enough that bothering you would be too much energy.

“Your friends leave?” He asked, peeking down the hallway past you.

“Mmhm. Right on time.” You pointed to your wrist where a watch would be.

To your surprise a low chuckle emanated from his chest. It was warm and hearty and genuine. The sound tugged at your stomach. No -- lower than that. Maybe it was the wine, or your friend's insistence on his beauty that made him have this effect on you suddenly.

“Sounded like a good party.” His voice mimicked his earlier clipped irritation but it felt less authentic this time, as though he were playing a part.

“It was.” You smile already nostalgic for the company of your friends, their warm energy, “You could come to the next one, you know. We don’t actually have to not like each other.”

Nanami’s head cocked to the side a bit, dark amber eyes crinkling in confusion, “I don’t not like you.”

You almost laughed out loud, to think that he could pretend that this whole time he has just been being neighborly?

“Right. Because badgering people every other week for three months over petty shit is something you do to people you like.”

Nanami made a small clicking sound, “There’s just…Rules. It’s not personal, you’re just loud and other people live here. I don’t not like you!”

“I’m not loud!” You shouted, which did not help your argument, “You’re just uptight.”

“I’m not uptight! There are rules, both in this apartment and just socially! Who blasts music at eight am on a sunday?” Nanami stepped closer to you, almost at the midway point between your apartment doors.

“Who goes to the gym and comes back slamming doors at two in the morning? You don’t hear me complaining about that, even though it happens every night.” You matched his advance, standing at the equivalent point to wear your living room wall would meet his inside of your apartment, “Some people are trying to sleep.”

Nanami couldn’t stop the words before they spilled out, he leaned his head down to you venomously, “Doesn’t sound like a lot of sleeping to me.”

Your eyes flew open, your chest caved and your throat knotted. You searched desperately for another meaning, scrambling your brain for recent late night annoyances he could be referring to, but you knew. And he knew too. Shames burned your cheeks, you felt so exposed.

“You’ve been listening to me?” You gasped, “What are you, some kind of pervert?”

“Pervert?” Nanami gaped at you, “Our bedrooms share a wall, I’m not staying up late to listen to your little audio drama. You're whimpering practically loud enough for everyone on the street to hear.”

You flushed deeper, cheeks practically on fire, “y-you should have said something.”

Nanami sighed, “I’ve been trying!”

You started to put things together. His flushed, nervous expression whenever you ran into each other in the mail room or the hallway. The increasingly sterile way he spoke to you about the noise. This whole time he had heard you…intimately…and tried to tell you as discreetly as he could. A bit too discreetly.

You buried your face in your hands, “Fuck. I’m so embarrassed.”

Nanami’s gut twisted at your distress. This was the exact situation he wanted to avoid, he didn’t want to embarrass you, he didn’t even want to tell you if he didn’t have to. For the first time in this whole mess, he touched you. He reached out and gripped your shoulder lightly. The heat of his palm warmed your clammy, shame soaked skin.

“Don’t be embarrassed. It’s…personal and I understand that, but it’s not anything to be embarrassed about.” He attempted to soothe you, his thumb experimenting with small strokes.

You looked up at him, swallowing down the lump in your throat, “I never hear you…do that. You probably think I'm some weird sex freak.”

A soft rosy blush came over his nose and cheeks.

He decided to try and level the vulnerability, “I-uh…usually…do that… in the shower.”

Suddenly his hand on your shoulder felt hot and heavy, he wasn't sure if he should remove it or if that would send the wrong message. What message was he hoping to send? This had suddenly become loaded and confusing.

You nodded in response, feeling a bit better now that he had exposed part of himself to you. You couldn't keep your mind from picturing him breathing hard in a steam filled shower, his head falling back in pleasure, hand running down his body to pump his-----

Fuck!

“I don’t think you’re a weird sex freak.” Nanami offered.

“Thanks.” You let out a small laugh.

You looked up at him, catching his teak wood eyes. Long, dark lashes encircled them, a light dusting of freckles resting atop his chiseled cheekbones. Shapely, rose hued lips were parted slightly as he looked down at you. The air between the two of you became thick and sticky. He was curved over you slightly, maybe even subconsciously.

“Can I ask you something?” He whispered, just barely loud enough to hear.

“About…that?”

He nodded.

You nodded.

Nanami swallowed, eyes scanning over your lips, “I haven’t…heard anyone else…with you.”

You waited a moment, “That isn’t a question.”

“You sound, sometimes, like you might…want some help.” Nanami leaned in closer, his eyes flicking from your lips to your eyes, “Do you?”

Your breath left you, your voice had long abandoned you, you could only try desperately to parse out how you had gotten here. He waited patiently for an answer, suddenly suave and confident. He had always been self assured, you just assumed it was arrogant entitlement. It never occurred to you that he could be so charming, so flirtatious. He knew what he was offering, you knew what this would mean. The instances of rigidity morphed in your memory into a heated chase, reaching its end here and now. You had been caught.

Finally, you nodded your head, “Yes.”

He closed the distance between you, pressing his hot lips to yours in an instant. The hand from your shoulder moved to the back of your neck, pulling your chest against his, as the other arms snaked around your waist. After the initial moment of shock, you moved your arms around him to grip his rippling back. The first kiss is long, passionate and deep, his arms feel so strong around you, you can feel the curves and cuts of muscles that you hadn't even considered. He pulls away only for a second to move his head to the side and realign himself to give you a hot, fevered open mouthed kiss, sliding his tongue between your lips and massaging it against yours. You felt dizzy, gripping him tighter, for stability of course, you move your hands up his back and brush your fingers against the cropped undercut at the nape of his neck. He let out a low moan, almost like a purr, into your mouth. You couldn’t help but smile a bit, testing it again and pulling another throaty sound from him. You pulled your lips away momentarily.

“I see why you need the shower.” You tease.

He nods against your forehead, catching his breath. You capture him in another kiss, leading him clumsily back to your apartment door, struggling with the knob a bit before he reaches around your hip to turn it for you and push inside, using his foot to swing the door shut behind him. Leaning back against your front door, he pulls you close to him once again, holding your body close to his, feeling the heat and weight of you in his arms. The way your apartment smells, like food and candles, earthy scented; sandalwood, laurel, magnolia. The dim, warm secondary lighting. He absorbs it all. It's so, you.

Your tongue is moving against his now, and he finds himself being kissed as much as he is kissing. He likes how active it is, no part of you feels not focused on him at this moment and he's so grateful. You lead him back to your bedroom, exactly where his own would be on the other side. He lets his hand travel down your back, feeling down to your waist and over your hips, experimentally gripping the flesh there. Fuck, when you werent annoying the life force out of him, you were so gorgeous. A beautiful, full, woman’s body, confident movements, alluring in every sense of the word. Your bedroom was the same as his, no shock there, still just slightly too small to comfortably house a king bed, which he cursed himself for squeezing in. You had a queen, a perfect size, the window on the side wall had sheer cream colored curtains allowing moonlight to coat the room in a magic, blue glow. You had pulled away from him, doing some light mood setting, lighting a bedside candle, brushing discarded clothes and a book from your bed. He recognized the cover of your book, he had read it too last year.

“She dumps the creepy coworker guy and goes back to working at another store. It’s incredibly cathartic. A shame you’ll miss out on it.” He runs his spine down the copy of your book on your bed, lifting it and flipping through a few pages, a devious smile itching the corners of his lips.

You look at him, eyebrows raised in alarm.

Nanami shrugged, “you ruined my movie. I ruin your book’s ending. Good read though.”

To his surprise, you laughed through a wide smile, “It is a good read, especially the second time.”

He laughed and shook his head. It was maybe the first time you had seen him actually smile, warm and easy. The just starting lines on his face extending around his mouth in little arches. He really was radiant, sharp features highlighted by the dream like light of the bedroom, blues and amber licking shadows over his face as the firelight moves. The laughter fades and you both look into one another. He looks over your features, lips swollen from his kiss, your eyes meeting his in a trusting, conspiratorial gaze. He feels his lips twitch again into a smile, and steps towards you.

“You’re so beautiful.” He cups your face, tenderly, his other hand circling your waist as he brings you to his lips.

The kiss has morphed into something deeper, kinder, less fevered, more focused and somehow even more passionate. When his tongue enters your mouth its not pushed or pressed, it slides languidly and easily against your own. As a polyglot’s tongue drips words, his drips kisses, sensuality. Your hands find the hem of his sweatshirt, slipping underneath, feeling the hardness of toned muscle and bone underneath. You did hear him return from the gym at god awful hours, it makes sense that he has something to show for it. Nanami hisses as you slide your hands around his hips to his back, moving up further, feeling every valley and peak of his hard work. Spurred by your action, he mirrors you, moving his hand under your shirt. Instead of following your lead, he opts to go for the front, gliding his hand up your abdomen and cupping your breast in his hand over your bra. He gives it a small squeeze, making you squeak. Another throaty hum comes from his chest.

He guides you with his hips, not breaking the kiss just yet to seat you on the bed, with him stood between your legs. Encouraged by your pawing at his torso, he breaks from your lips to remove his sweatshirt, revealing rows of carefully built abdominal muscles, as you had felt already. What you didn't expect was the melange of scars in various stages of healing across his chest, stomach, and shoulders. Some white and flat against the surface, some pink and recessed still healing themselves. You couldn't help the small gasp you sucked in at the sight.

What the hell happened to him? Or was it still happening to him?

“It's just skin, grows right back after enough time.” Nanami looked down at himself, following your eyeline across his body.

You sat up further, carefully moving your hand over his toned stomach, across a particularly large, although healed line on his side.

“Seriously, it’s--” Nanami started but you cut him off by removing your own shirt, pointing to a scar on the lower right side of your stomach, above your hip bone.

“Appendectomy.” You smile at him wickedly, “You’re not so tough.”

Nanami can’t help but chuckle, rolling his eyes and climbing over you onto the bed.

“I didn’t realize I was in the bed of such a badass.” one of his big hands moves over your barely scarred hip, then up your side.

You moan and arch up at his touch trying to control your shaking breath, “m-mhm, I’m very b-bad a-a…”

Another moan consumes your sentence as he kisses the side of your neck. Taking his time to suck and lick at the soft skin from your shoulder to behind your ear. You make no effort to hide how good it makes you feel, squeezing his large, tight bicep and rocking against him, head lolling to the side.

“That’s right, you are very bad.” Nanami bites lightly at your jugular point.

You whimper against him, his teeth on your neck setting your body ablaze. You nod.

“You’ve been such a bad girl, whimpering just like that all night while i'm trying to sleep. Pretending you don’t know I can hear you.” The dirty words drip off of him like honey directly into your waiting mouth.

He has moved to hover completely over you, one hand on your thigh, pulling it around his hip, leaning on the other crooked near your head. You can feel his hips against yours, even through his pants you can feel how hard he has become. He can certainly feel how hot and wet you are becoming, you pray that your panties and pants are helping you maintain some kind of decency. That prayer goes unanswered as Nanami moves his hand from your thigh to between your hot writhing bodies, cupping your sex.

“Is this what you need, baby? You need someone to help you feel good?” He whispers into your ear, one finger starting to move up and down your clothed slit.

You nod before you can speak.

“Ask me. Ask for my help, baby.” He grunts against you, you can no longer feel his erection pressed against you, but you can hear his voice becoming strained and rougher, indicating his own resolve has wavered as much as yours has.

You wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him back to your lips and plead into a kiss.

“Please, please Nanami, please help me.” The kiss is sloppy and wet, saliva and sweat spilling between desperate lips.

“Kento, please. When I’m fucking you, please use my first name.” He snakes an arm between your body and the mattress and removes your bra, moving down your body with hot, wet kisses.

You arch up again, the eroticism of being undressed by him titillating your sense beyond your imagination. He latches onto one of your hard nipples, swirling his tongue around the sensitive flesh, dark eyes watching closely for your reactions.

“Kento…oh Kento.” You try the name out, it fits perfectly in your mouth, tastes like honey when you speak it.

It was like he was studying you, gauging reactions and preferences in fractions of a second that other partners had been too hurried to discover. You returned your hands to his hair, threading your fingers and his blonde strands together. He bit and sucked and kissed and lapped at your breasts, giving each one equal, focused attention, squeezing them together and separately like he could never get enough. Finally he detached, a string of saliva connecting him to your skin. His eyes flicked up at you, catching his breath and moving down your body further, his hands moving over the waistband of your pants. Your breath hitched up in anticipation, your bottom lip clamped between your teeth. He met your eyes and searched for any sign of hesitation, if he were to allow his mind to process what was happening he might have stopped himself, citing how messy it could be to be involved in a sexual tet-a-tet with his next door neighbor, perhaps you were doing exactly that.

But you moved your hand over the side of his face, brushing a few strands of hair off his forehead, smiling sweetly.

“Please Kento…I need your help,” your voice was so sweet and so soft as you pleaded with him, “....please.”

He kisses underneath your navel and slides your pants off of your legs, discarding them onto your bedroom floor. He took the moment of readjustment to remove his own pants, leaving both of you in only your underwear. He moved back in between your legs, he could practically see through your flimsy white panties, wetness having made the fabric dark and molded to your skin. He could see the curve of your labia, where they separated, the inner folds hidden but begging for him. Wetness has spread to your thighs, making your skin glisten and sparkle. He looped his thumbs into the band of your panties and slipped them off, joining the mess of clothes already on the floor. Now bare before him, he could feel himself drooling at the sight of you spread out on your bed. Just as he had imagined you, no. No, much better than he could have imagined. Soft, full body, marks blooming on your skin from his kiss, chest heaving and jiggling in turn as you pant for him. Between your legs a perfect oasis of petals waiting for him to part and indulge himself.

“...stop staring..” Your cheeks burned as he sat back taking you in.

Nanami leaned down, lips nearly brushing your mound, “I’m admiring.”

You open your mouth to say something sassy but he licks up your slit, silencing you. He smiles a cocky smile at you and does it again, this time taking even more time to reach the top.

He’s fucked. He knows it from the first taste. He has always had a proclivity and a preference for eating pussy, enjoyed and indulged in the tastes of many women, but none like this. None that have brought him into a haze with a single taste. He dives further, separating your outer lips with two v-ed fingers, showing him the pearl of your clit and your drooling hole. He experiments with pushing his tongue into you, hearing and gauging your moans. It feels good, so good, but he knows he can do more. Feeding his tongue into you once more before he flattens it against you and laps up to your clit again and again. Your hips buck up at that, one of his big hands presses down on your stomach, keeping you in place. He swirls his devil’s tongue around your clit again and again in an agonizing whirlpool before sucking hard at the swollen bud. You can't contain the cries and whimpers spilling from you, you try to move against his hand, you try to pull at his hair to detach him from you, offering you a moment to catch your breath but he doesn't move an inch. He’s a messy eater, chin and nose dripping just as much as his mouth. He’s a loud eater too, moaning at your taste, at the sound of you writhing for him, grunting as his hips rut against your mattress unwittingly.

“K-kento, I--I think I…” You struggle to string together cohesive words but the fevered lapping between your legs keeps you stammering.

“Go ahead, baby. Cum on my tongue.” Nanami’s voice was low and gravely, full of need and desperation of his own.

But this was different, there was a tightness in your abdomen that was unfamiliar, you were confused and panting, worried that something else may happen.

“W-wait, I--” You tried to move yourself onto your elbows just as Nanami pressed further down on your stomach.

Before you knew it you were cumming, squirting into his mouth, onto your sheets. You cried out in one long pleasure filled scream, partially his name, partially just exaltation. Nanami drinks from you like a holy well, reverent and indulgent all at once. As though he may never taste you again. FInally he lets you push him off of your twitching sex. His face is soaked, he licks his lips, fingers too, anything that may carry some of your release. You watch him with hazy, drunken eyes. Sat back on his heels, coming out of his own cloud of pleasure, he watches you come back to your body. You look beautiful, panting on your back for him. He leans over you again and kisses your lips softly, then deeper, and deeper still. His tongue tastes like you, your hands are quick to pull his hips to yours.

“Think you can go again?” Kento huffs out as your grind against his clothed crotch, he can feel the wetness of your climax seeping into his boxers, commingling with his own leaking anticipation.

“I need it. Please fuck me, Kento.” You have no room for coyness or pride anymore, you have only room for him.

He nods, burying his head in your neck and removing his boxers with your frantic help. You feel his hard length freed against your thigh. He’s bigger than you imagined, thick and leaking already. You wanted to taste the beading precum, feel the heat and weight of him in your mouth, but you would have to find another time because Nanami was just as desperate to be inside of you as you were to be filled by him. He lined himself up with your begging hole, not yet pushing inside. He looks into your eyes before kissing you, hard and deep, no barriers, no holding back, as he pushes into you. He’s thicker than you even thought, the stretch burning as you arch up into him, whimpering.

“Take it all baby. I know, I know, just a bit more. You can take it.” He soothes against your lips, thrusting further.

You let out a small, cracked cry as he continues, pressing kisses to your neck. You rake your nails across his hip, desperate for something to cling to. You’re grateful for your surprisingly wet climax earlier, the lubrication helping to ease the insertion. When he finally bottoms out, and you feel his hips flush against yours, he stills. His tip is kissing your cervix, he's trembling above you as he too struggles to adjust to the tight fit.

“You feel so fucking good, you’re so tight, so fucking wet for me.” He mutters against your neck, your jaw, anywhere he can find to kiss.

“Fuuuuuuck, Kento.” Your pain finally gives way to pleasure.

Just in time for him to pull his hips back slightly and thrust into you further. Both of you moan into the silence of the bedroom, as he repeats this over and over. Setting a medium pace of intense thrusts deep inside of you. You're squeezing him tighter and tighter.

“Please baby, relax a bit. I can’t move much more.” Nanami begs, moving one hand to your clit and circling it gently, attempting to extend your pleasure.

You try to obey, taking a deep breath and allowing him to make you feel good, as he promised. You release some tension and find his pace more languid and fluid, assisted by his careful thumbing of your clit. Your hands move up and grip the pillow behind you as he increases his pace, pumping into you faster and faster by just a deep. A dance begins with your two bodies, moving in sync, maximizing the joint pleasure.

“Fuck! Ah, baby. Yes!”

“Oh! Kento, Kento! Yes!! Right there, fuck!”

“There? You like that? Of course you do, bad girl”

“Uh huh, Fuck me like a bad girl, Kento! Fuck”

Cries of pleasure fill the room, Kento luxuriates in the fact that his own bedroom, sitting empty, is just on the other side of the wall, where the headboard is smacking rhythmically. He brings you to another mind melting orgasm with his thumb and cock working in tandem. You whimper out praises of his skill, his size, his words, Him. Once you have caught yourself again from the freefall of climax, you sit up, pushing on his shoulders. He's too big of a man for you to really push, but he sees your desire and rolls the pair of you so that he is now on his back. Your thighs ache already from being spread so long, but not to be out fucked you hitch your hips up and down his length as fast and accurately as you can. His hands settle on your hips, squeezing bruises into the supple flesh.

“Fuck baby.” His jaw hangs open as he watches you bounce and grind on him.

Emboldened by the blush settling on his face, you take one of his large, calloused hands from your hip and slide it up your body and to your mouth, where you suck two of his fingers into your mouth. He shudders and a dangerously loud moan spills from his lips. You swirl your tongue around his thick fingers, tasting remnants of your climaxes, tasting his heated skin. Your hips never stop, riding him and sucking his fingers. You see him sweating beneath you, eyes rolling back, mouth agape, tongue threatening to flop out. The hand on your hip squeezes and pushes you down further on him.

“Baby I-- Fuck!” Nananmi hoped he would catch it in time but you surprised him and he couldn’t contain himself in time.

He holds you down on his pelvis as his cock twitches inside of you releasing a heavy load of white into you. You both let out long, whining moans as he fucks up into you desperately. After his long release has completed, Nanami pulls his fingers from your lips and pulls you down to kiss him, whimpering as your shifting squeezes his overstimulated cock. The kiss is sticky with cum and sweat and spit, and delicious all the same. The combined flavors of your endeavor sweeter than any wine, better than any meal you could have shared over a candle lit dinner. Nanami licks into your mouth, holding you flush against his chest as his cock begins to soften inside of you. You pull away enough to look at him, foreheads still pressed together. You smile, and he smiles back, so warm and relaxed. He takes in a breath to speak

THUNK THUNK THUNK……….THUNK THUNK THUNK

You two look at one another. The confusion apparent on both of your faces as the knocking continues. You pull off of him, already mourning the feeling of his cock no longer inside of you. Nanami is ready to kill whoever is on the other side of the door for pulling him away from your tight, wet heat. You wrap yourself in your bathrobe, and Kento pulls on his sweatpants. You both exit your bedroom, although you want to assure Nanami he doesn't have to come with you, it feels comforting to have him there when answering the door at night. If he weren't in the room with you, you would have assumed it was him at the door, but since it can’t be you are lost for who could be knocking so late.

THUNK THUNK THUNK

You open the door to find Mrs. Sonomura, your neighbor across the hall. You often watched her collection of houseplants when she went out of town to visit her daughter. Her cheeks were dark pink and she was wearing her housecoat. You pulled the top of your robe tighter over your chest, praying your hair which you had not thought to fix wasn't too obvious.

“Good Evening, Mrs. Sonomura. W-what can I do for you?”

She took you in and flushed even deeper, “I-I heard shouting and I…well..”

You were mortified, knowing that any respect this woman had for you must have completely dissolved. Before she, or you, could speak, you felt a heavy hand clap over your shoulder and Nanami’s body came behind yours. He had donned his sweatshirt quickly at the sight of Mrs. Sonomura.

“My apologies, Mrs. Sonomure. I came over to complain about how loud her party had been tonight and I suppose things got a bit heated. I apologize for the yelling, we’re trying to find a way to be more….neighborly.” He looked straight at Mrs. Sonomura, smiling a charming smile, all while squeezing your shoulder.

Mrs. Sonomura nodded hurriedly, seemingly happy to take such an obvious lie in place of the uncomfortable truth.

“Well, I trust the two of you can work it out with the front office. Please keep it down after quiet hours.”

You nodded, “So sorry, Mrs. Sonomura. It won't happen again, Goodnight.”

You waved and watched her enter her apartment before shutting the door to your own. Nanami cocked his head down at you.

“Won't happen again, huh?” He teased.

“Oh shut up. We should be careful letting our ‘arguments’ get too loud again.” you sighed out, just relieved to have avoided the complete mortification of your kind, older neighbor thinking you're a slut, “Those walls really are thin.”

Nanami wrapped his arms around you, pulling you in to kiss the top of your head. You hugged him, pressing your face into his chest.

“You should probably spend the night.” You turned your face to the side, pressing your cheek against him as you spoke, “I’d hate for something to happen to you taking the train this late.”

Nanami laughed, you could hear it resonate from his chest, “That’s a good point. I’d hate to walk home in this weather.”

The pair of you smiled before you led him back into your bedroom to sleep.

OKAY YALL: I really hope you guys enjoyed this one, its been bouncing around in my head for a while and im so pleased with how it came out. Bonus Points if you know what movie//book got spoiled. Anyway, love you guys, and always i would love to know what you thought or if you have any ideas of your own! XX- Doodle.

#jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jjk smut #jjk nanami #kento nanami #nanami kento x reader #nanami smut #nanami kento #jujutsu kaisen nanami #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen fanfic #jujutsu nanami #kento smut #kento x reader #kento x y/n #jjk kento #nanami x reader #kento

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comatosebunny09 · 1 year ago

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insecurities | astarion a.

summary: “why don’t you like me?” he asks, his voice small amid the symphony of the forest dwellers. you choke on your spittle. how unlike your undead friend to sound so unsure of himself.

The night is quiet.

Most of your companions have retired to their tents. Tending to their weapons, reading, sleeping.

You’re left by the fire, snapping twigs to further kindle it. You smile quietly. The atmospheric pop and fizz bring you comfort as a summery breeze slides in.

You turn away in search of more wood when you hear a weighted sigh, followed by the thunk of the log behind you.

Seems someone’s decided to impede on your party of one.

You spin around to see your favorite vampire sitting opposite you on the log, his features accentuated by the fire. Astarion watches you with a pout on his lips and his brows knit together. You snort, wholly prepared for him to complain about something.

“What’s wrong, sunshine?” you query, squatting and poking around the campfire. “Our lodgings not to your liking? You break a nail? A rat crawl up into your ass?” Your eyes crinkle with mirth.

Astarion leans back on his hands, one leg crossed over the other. He stares at you with those petulant eyes, studying you for a beat. It’s unlike him to be so serious. Silence stretches between you for a moment longer before he asks, “Why don’t you like me?”

You nearly choke on your spittle. His brazenness floors you. Literally. You plop down on the ground, dusting off your hands, your expression bemused. “Excuse me?”

“Oh, come now.” He crosses his arms. Looks off to the side, face screwing up into a scowl. “You haven’t slept with me. You shrug off all my advances. Hells, it feels like you won’t even give me the time of day.”

Another snort. Your tone drips with sarcasm. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know I had to sleep with someone to show I cared.”

Astarion scoffs, waving a dismissive hand. “Bullshit. Have you seen me? I’m irresistible. The very definition of sex on legs, so I’ve been told. People would kill for a chance at me. And I would’ve bedded you a thousand times over, had you stopped playing hard to get.”

You sigh. Laugh a little disbelievingly, slowly standing. “Astarion—”

“I’m not your type, am I? Do you even have a type? It’s Halsin, isn’t it? That oaf of a druid.”

You caution a few steps around the fire towards him, your hands stretched out placatingly. You’re exasperated. “Astarion, look—”

“I don’t blame you. I would’ve bedded him, too.”

“Astarion!”

You’re in front of him now. Bent over, gathering his icy cheeks into your palms. He looks at you with confusion marring his features. You have his attention, nonetheless.

Your eyes gloss over with wetness. A forlorn smile rounds your lips. Your chest swells with emotion, and you tuck some errant curls behind Astarion’s ear.

“I thought we knew each other better than that.” You swallow before wetting your lips. You look down at the ground, inhaling deeply. Kneel before him, taking up his hands with all the gentleness of the world, your eyes shining with the threat of tears.

“You are more than your body, Astarion. More than some fling. More than a romp in the dirt. I wish you could see that. Sex is nice. Gods, it can be such an incredible thing. But I don’t need it to know I mean something to you. And I don’t need it to show you I adore you.”

Astarion blinks. For a moment, only the two of you exist in this world of chirping crickets and crackling fire. Tenderness flashes across his face before the vampire chuckles softly, patting your hands, squeezing them. His lashes flutter. He’s breathtaking.

“You adore me, do you?” Astarion purrs, his cockiness returning tenfold. “I am rather amazing, aren’t I?” He leans back again to have a look at his nails, radiating smugness.

You snort, standing and wiping your hands on your breeches. “You just had to muck it up, didn’t you?” You can’t help the quirk of your lips as you turn back to tend to the fire.

“Darling. Who would I be if I didn’t?”

“And to think, I was just about to kiss you.”

The indignant sound Astarion releases behind you makes your ribs blossom with pride.

Ah, well. Maybe next time.

masterlist

#astarion x reader #astarion x tav #astarion x you #astarion fluff #astarion drabble #astarion bg3 #astarion fanfic #my attempt at writing something less detailed #and more dialogue-driven #astarion romance #astarion x gn reader #astarion x gn!tav #astarion deserves all the love #tw: sex mention #tw: language

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chelseeebe · 1 year ago

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on my knees (for you).

a/n: more virgin!eddie tales WOOO!! i just can’t shake this little pathetic man and i want to write him being so down bad for ever and ever. thinking of some steddiexreader that includes the little virgin boy too…

this is a continuation to seven minutes in heaven but really can be read on its own, it just mentions events that happened in the first fic.

18+. smut. mentions of weed. eddie being horrifically pathetic again. no mentions of y/n.

eddie’s sure you’ve pavlov’d him.

his cock springs into action the second you appear. and see that wouldn’t be a bad thing except for the fact that he sees you multiple times a day, in class or around campus and it makes him look like a dirty perv.

even now, he’s sat trying to kill it off as you sit next to him eating your lunch. thigh brushing against his every now and again and his mind is going wild. he’s trying to think what would happen if he just lifted you onto the table and fucked the shit out of you right here.

well, in all actuality, he’d probably last all of about ten thrusts before busting a nut and subsequently dying of embarrassment. maybe it’s not wise.

the thing is, now you had this little arrangement with each other, his erections had been ramped up to level ten. and he solely blames you for that, by the way.

he’d never known someone to be so eager all the time. you’re like a fucking rabbit. tearing at his clothes the minute you’re alone already soaking your little panties. eddie had debated swiping some last time he was over but had decided against it at the last minute which he sorely regretted the second he got home.

it had mostly just been a lot of you riding him in an attempt to get him to last longer than just a few minutes so you hadn’t really.. experimented much. he didn’t mind though, getting to stare at your tits bouncing in his face as you fucked yourself on his cock? how could he complain?

your fingers wrap around his knee, leaning in to his ear, ‘i’m free for the next two hours.. what about you?’ ever so slowly traipsing your fingers higher, his cock jumping to attention. not here. please not fucking here.

he’s got steve harrington sat opposite and really does not fancy having to explain to him as to why he’s this hard at lunch time.

it wasn’t like it was a matter of life or death but it was just easier to keep doing this without everyone knowing. because then it becomes a thing and nobody wanted that. eddie’s sure at least some people have gathered what’s happening. especially argyle who had woken up rather confused to find you spooning him on your tiny couch, but had just let out a tiny bro? and fallen right back to sleep.

‘i-i have class,’ tentatively placing his hand on yours to stop it ascending any further. eyeing the other participants at the table. oh fuck. steve definitely knew. looking over with a slight glint of humour in his eye, waiting until you re-emerged from eddie’s ear to say something.

the stupid smug prick. he probably couldn’t wait to humiliate eddie in front of all your friends. then he’d swoop in with his blonde highlights and tinted strawberry lip balm. he couldn’t stand it.

surely you weren’t interested in that? really, eddie is the complete opposite of whatever the fuck that is and there’s no way in hell you’d continue to fuck him if you weren’t a fan.

‘skip class for me?’ you whisper into his ear. for me. for me. fuck. he’d do anything for you. you could’ve told him to flip the table so you could fuck right here and he would’ve.

his breath hitches in his throat but he nods quickly, squeezing your hand and dipping his head low. the bulge in his jeans was fairly obvious at this point but maybe if he got up quick enough no one would be able to tell.

your hand vacates his leg, leaving a burning sensation in it’s wake. you’re shoving your shit into your bag, standing from the shared table. oh you meant now. while over your friends were still here. you were going to walk off together. to your room. oh god. that wasn’t obvious, was it?

‘where are you goin’?’ steve asks, watching intently when you jab at eddie’s shoulder to make him move. he does immediately, grabbing his back pack and determining just how he can slide out of here without showcasing his hard on to the world.

‘we’re going to smoke.. that alright with you?’ you remark, hands poised on your hips. eddie loved it when you were like this. his heart racing faster every time you scolded him or pouted those pretty, plump lips his way.

‘sweet, i’ll come!’ argyle sits up straight, awakened by the mention of weed. of course.

‘no,’ you bark, getting fed up of waiting for eddie to stand up and instead grabbing his collar, yanking at the denim, ‘sorry, closed invitation,’ wiggling your eyebrows at the long haired boy.

this elicits a chorus of ooohs from the table as eddie finally slides from the bench, turning immediately to follow your lead. he felt like a massive loser following you around. if you got him a leash and told him to get on all fours he would. and he likes think that that’s understandable.

‘oh my god they’re so annoying,’ you hush, his legs rushing to catch up with your irritated strides. did he look like such a lost dog to other people? not that he cared much.

‘i know.. it’s steve,’ he replies, realising that there was probably too much venom in that response to pass it off as something casual. yeah, maybe he was still a tiny smidgen jealous that you two had such natural chemistry. he is human after all. anybody would be.

‘he’s an ass but it’s all of them, so nosy,’ you chuckle, linking your arm with his now that you’re out of view of your prying friends.

he had wondered if you were ashamed of him, or to be seen with him at least. it was understandable, you were literally smoking hot and he was.. a pathetic little nerd who was completely obsessed with you. but to stand up and quiet openly lead him off to your room in front of everyone, maybe you weren’t.

‘you’re not like.. ashamed to fuck me, are you?’ regretting it the instant it came out of his mouth. he didn’t want to know the answer really. and even if you were, he wasn’t going to complain. it’s not like girls were falling at his feet, let alone girls as pretty as you.

‘no!’ you hit his arm, expelling the breath he wasn’t even aware he was holding, ‘eddie be serious, it’s not like they don’t all know anyway,’ rounding the corner to your house.

he had snuck in a multitude of times over the last few weeks, in fact it was every day at this point. running up the stairs past nancy’s room, thinking how much easier it would be if you were on the ground floor. then he might be able to shuffle through your window and back out in the early hours.

you fumble for your keys, knowing that the house would be empty at this time and quite proudly let him in the door. he doesn’t reply to your answer because he had assumed that the pair of you were successful at being incredibly sneaky.

‘do you have a problem with it being a secret?’ you ask, the door slamming shut behind you.

oh god no. even if he did, he’d never tell you in fear of ruining it all. the only thing he wanted to do was to rub it into steve’s annoying face. ha ha. this massive loser had gotten into your pants before he had. well, at least he thinks.

‘no,’ it comes out sounding more like a question than a statement, which he chastises himself for straight away. if he had half the confidence any normal person had, he would’ve stopped this conversation in its tracks. shoved you back against the wall or something and shut you up with his mouth.

‘no?’

‘yeah, no,’ he repeats, sounding much more assured in himself.

‘good,’ you mutter and he notices the glint in your eye, hints of a smirk beginning to appear. he blinks and you’re stood before him, eyeing up his lips. his jeans had just got a hell of a lot tighter.

isn’t it crazy that someone’s eyes could have that affect on someone? or actually, how just the sheer presence of them in the room could have someone stumbling over their words.

‘i.. don’t care at all,’ staggered breaths as he’s backed up against the wall, shoulder blade hitting into one of the framed pictures on the wall. he wants to yelp at the pain but instead keeps his eyes solidly on yours.

he’s been practicing you see. watching any and all videos he could find of how to be a dominant man alongside copious amounts of porn and had gathered a bunch of mens help magazines. they were supposed to teach him how to be more strong willed, to flip the upper hand over to him.

except, they’d really done nothing at all. well actually, he’d now discovered that his hand was no longer sufficient compared to the earth shattering orgasms you’d given him. if there was a way for him to bottle that feeling, he’s sure that it’d be more addicting than heroin. probably make more money, too.

‘shall we go upstairs?’ you ask, eyelashes fluttering. yes. god yes. he’s desperate to get upstairs and into your room so he can disappoint you for five whole minutes this time.

‘yes.. yes please,’ his chest rising and falling rapidly. everything he had practiced had gone to shit the second you’d touched him. brilliant.

you simply smirk, grabbing his hand to lead him up the stairs the exact same way you had the last five nights of this week.

shoving him into your bedroom and kicking the door shut behind you. you’re ferocious with it. and he wonders if you needed him as badly as he needed you. he just longed to be inside of you or next to you or just in the same room as you. he needed that feeling pumped into him intravenously.

you’re on him the second the door’s shut, grabbing at his chest, his shirt and his pants all at once. pushing him back towards your unmade bed with such urgency that he stumbles, pulling you on top of him. your lips are everywhere, pecking at his jawline and his neck. going over the violet markings you’d left previously. he was embarrassed about them at first but had quickly learned to appreciate them and the fact that you weren’t afraid to mark him.

you’re shuffling out of your jeans already, kicking them off of your ankle as you rest your knees either side of his thighs. he only notices because the frilly lace waistband of your panties catches against the button on his jeans. are these what you wear normally or is this something you did for him?

a low moan is pulled from his throat when your skilful fingers unbutton his jeans and make their way onto his rock hard cock. did you paint your fingernails for him too? the shimmering violet looked so good wrapped around his cock. he’s sure any colour would as long as it was on your hand.

‘always so hard for me, aren’t you?’ you mutter against his neck, still fondling his sensitive balls. his toes curl in his socks, keeping both feet firmly on the floor in an effort to ground himself.

there’d been a few instances of him cumming.. prematurely. and by prematurely he means, the second you touched him. he blames those times on the weed though. it was the only reasonable explanation.

‘s-sit on my face,’ he blurts out, unaware of what dark hole that had come from.

your eyes narrow, gazing down at him with your mouth hung open. that was definitely the wrong thing to say. he’d seen it in this one video and had started salivating at the thought of your pillowy thighs wrapped around his ears.

eddie hadn’t quite been able to make you cum yet. like, he was certainly making progress and you’d gotten close a couple of times but you had ultimately had to get yourself off. which he loved to watch.. he just wanted to be involved. he lived in pure amazement at how you just seemed to get there so quickly. sometimes it wasn’t even a minute with your hand between your thighs and you were whining and writhing around. how?

‘eds.. that’s- are you sure?’ eyeing him cautiously. why didn’t you just trust him? he’s pretty confident he had the technique down, ashamedly having practiced on his hand one night. yeah, that was awkward.

and the erection it had given him was too.

‘i’m sure.. please,’ he had figured out that as soon as he begged for something, he pretty much got it. maybe you had a fetish for pathetic men or something but all he had to do was plead a little and you were pouncing on him.

‘do you even know-,’

‘-yes i know what to do,’ he barks a little hastily. at least now you’d either punish him or would listen to him. either was fine.

you eyebrows fly up your forehead and he thinks for a second that he’s really in the shit. his cock jumps at the thought of you slapping him again or even better, wrapping your hand around his neck like you’d done the other day. now that really got him going.

‘okay.. but if it’s too much let me know,’ lifting yourself from his waist and shuffling upward towards his head. he’s drooling just thinking about it. wrapping his arms around the backs of your thighs just as the man in the video had. he could keep you in place perfectly like this.

‘come on,’ he sighs, watching as you slide your underwear down and off to the side, stopped just before his eager, salivating mouth. everything he had practiced came down to this very moment and he was more than ready to show you what he’d learned.

‘you’re so bossy now.. i don’t like it,’ frowning down to him, hand coming to hold onto your headboard. he had hoped that you’d pull on his hair again but was for sure not going to ask. ‘remember to tell me if it’s too much.. slap me or something, i’ll know,’ biting down onto your bottom lip.

he nods quickly, eyes sliding away from yours to your pussy poised above him. now, he didn’t have any much experience with pussy but he’d say that yours was perfect.

without wanting to waste anymore time, he pulls you down onto his mouth, tongue immediately lapping at your folds. just the way he’d practiced. he didn’t really have any preconceptions of what pussy would taste like but he’s pleasantly surprised. he’d keep you here all day if he could, who needed to breathe anyway?

‘ho-holy shit,’ you remark, clawing at your bed frame for a little balance. he thinks that’s a good thing, eyes trained on your face to determine whether he was doing this right or not.

his tongue slides up, circling around your sensitive clit. yeah, that’s it. he can tell when your eyes roll into the back of your head, hips stuttering on his face.

‘jesus eddie,’ you breathe, just hearing his name tumble from your lips does fucking wonders for him. it’s all the encouragement he needs to continue his assault on your cunt.

he murmurs something in utter gratitude when your hand leaves the headboard to instead tangle into his hair. mouth vibrating against your pussy which is another hit. the gorgeous sounds of your moans fill the room, only slightly muffled by your legs over his ears.

it’s now or never. he has to pull out the big guns.

tongue leaving your clit to slide into your dripping hole. soaking his chin, his lips and probably his shirt in your arousal. he didn’t mind one bit. it’s like a badge of honour to know that he was responsible for the mess.

‘fuck,’ you hiss, fisting his curls as your eyes squeeze shut. eddie wants to scream when your eyes roll back, his fingers digging into your fleshy thighs.

oh my god. this was paradise. utter heaven. his heart swelling a little knowing that you were cussing fretting because of his mouth. you were so gorgeous from this angle. well, from all angles but particularly this one. looking totally blissed out on top of him, your lips opening to let out the most insatiable noises he’d ever heard.

your fingers yank at his curls, legs trembling around his flushed face, ‘i’m gonna- eds, i’m cumming,’ thighs clamping around his head as your hips roll forward on their own, trying to escape the overstimulation.

eddie’s desperate to keep you there, using his palms to hold you steady while he’s literally making out with your pussy. lapping at your clit, at the juices that now covered his face. except his stomach tightens, slowing his pace until he realises what’s happening.

oh shit.

his hips buck up into the air on their own and his boxers feel incredibly wet and sticky. he’s just came in his pants by eating you out. that’s ridiculous. utterly unbelievable that someone could be that tragic.

you were definitely going to laugh at him when you realised but there’s literally not a chance that he could hide that. he lets go of his grip on your thighs, moving one hand over his crotch as you shuffle off of him.

bastard. pathetic fucking bastard.

you hadn’t even touched him yet. how was he going to explain that? i’m just so sickly obsessed with you that i came in my pants. that didn’t sound like anything a normal person would say.

his eyes remain shut, laboured breathing as his mind attempts to take him out of this room and far, far away. it’s not fucking working. especially not when he can hear your panting next to him, the rustling of the sheets as you sort them out.

your eyes travel to his covered crotch with a confused expression until you notice the dark latch and it finally clicks. ‘did you cum in your pants?’ you exclaim and he thinks that this right here might just kill him off.

he nods quickly, point blank refusing to open his eyes. it was easier this way, at least his tears of embarrassment would be somewhat hidden. you could’ve just done the polite thing and ignored it. made up some excuse about going to class and then you could disappear from his life. god, why did you have to be such a-

‘that’s so hot,’ you continue, cutting his thoughts short at just the right spot. pressing your warm body into his side as you settle into bed.

‘what? no it’s not..’ brave enough to open his eyes to look at you, confusion plastered over his face. surely you were just joking. no woman in the history of the world would find his inadequacy hot.

‘who are you to tell me what i can or can’t find hot?’ prodding at his cheek, offence ribbed throughout your response.

this surely requires a marriage proposal or something of that nature, right? like, there’s not a possibility that he could ever let you get away now.

his lips twitch into a smile, taking his hand from his crotch to wrap his arm around your shoulder. the confidence was next level and almost unheard of but he had to show you a little appreciation after you’d just told him his premature orgasm was attractive.

‘don’t ever tell me what i can and can’t like again,’ you jokingly warn, resting your head on his shoulder, eyes fluttering shut.

he speaks up after a few moments of silence, unsure of if you’re even still awake, ‘thank you.. for letting me do that,’ staring up at the ceiling. eddie thinks that he likes eating pussy. really likes it. especially yours.

you laugh sleepily, throwing an arm over his torso. it’s music to his ears. if making you cum was top priority, then making you laugh was a solid number two.

‘you don’t have to thank me every time,’ yawning into his chest. it’s technically still the middle of the day but if you were going to sleep, he sure as hell wouldn’t complain.

instead he’d lie there as still as he possibly could. kinda like when a cat falls asleep on your lap and you just can’t move for the rest of the day. he’s prepared to take that sacrifice.

he must’ve dozed off at some point too because he wakes up to a short knock on your bedroom door.

you’re dead to the world. completely unaffected by the sound, curled into the blanket. super adorable with your cheeks squished togeth-

the door knocks again and he jumps up, not wanting whoever it is to wake you. he hadn’t exactly thought of the consequences of answering your door. half naked at that.

‘oh! eddie.. wasn’t expecting you,’ nancy responds, eyebrows flying up her forehead. he’s such a moron. it would’ve been ten times easier to just ignore the door because now he had to explain why he was stood in his underwear in your room.

perfect.

‘oh yeah.. got too high.. had to sleep it off, yanno?’ chuckling awkwardly, desperately trying to hide behind the door. he hopes to the high heavens that his boxers aren’t stained. he’d either look like the worlds biggest creep or like the completely pathetic freak that he was. he wasn’t keen on either option.

only you could know just how pitiful he truly was.

her eyes travel to his bare legs and back up again, ‘uh huh.. well, we’re ordering pizza if you two want in..?’ giving him a tiny smile. she’s so polite that now he just feels weird. god dammit, they’re friends, his pasty little legs being out should not make him feel so exposed.

‘oh yeah uh.. i’ll ask her,’ glancing over to your very unconscious state on the bed. he wasn’t keen on the idea of waking you but did think that it’d be rather unforgivable if he didn’t. plus he was hungry.

‘okay.. don’t take too long,’ wiggling her eyebrows at him and disappearing off back downstairs. shutting your door with a quiet click.

fucking nancy wheeler and her politeness.

he slinks back over to the bed, shaking your shoulder ever so gently, ‘hey.. wake up,’ trying his hardest not to alarm you.

it works somewhat, your eyes springing open as you wake. blinking up at him from your blanket cocoon. he feels terrible but man’s gotta eat. it does occur to him now that it would’ve been a pleasant surprise to wake you with a pizza rather than just so abruptly.

‘wha- what?’ rubbing your tired eyes as you come to. you’re so cute like this, he wouldn’t mind waking up to this sight every morning. okay, maybe he’s getting ahead of himself here.

‘er.. they’re ordering pizza.. nancy asked me if you wanted anything?’ still standing sheepishly over your bed. his eyes trail down to where your thigh had poked out of the duvet, how they were keeping his face warm barely a few hours ago..

‘oh,’ you sigh, ‘yeah.. just cheese please,’ snuggling back up into the bed, ‘there’s a twenty on my desk, get whatever you want,’ closing your eyes again.

‘oh.. okay,’ he nods, even though you obviously can’t see him. deciding that this time, he’ll be more appropriately dressed to converse with your roommates. seemed like the right thing to do. plus he’s sure robin would definitely have plenty to say if he came downstairs half-dressed. and none of it good.

he ignores the money on your desk. as fucking if he’d let you pay for your own food after you had so graciously fed him earlier. not happening. like, ever again.

following the voices into your kitchen to find nancy and robin sat around the kitchen island, phone poised in her hand ready to go.

‘you’re in luck, i was just about to call.. what d’you want?’ robin asks, raising a singular brow. nancy had obviously filled her in on what had been behind your bedroom door.

‘just cheese.. please,’ ignoring how ridiculous the unintended rhyme made him sound.

‘is that for both of you?’ she looks on, a glint of something indescribable in her eye. he wishes he knew how to decipher women. you’re all so fucking complicated and weird. in the best way, of course.

‘uh.. yeah?’ looking on tentatively, unsure of what she could possible be implying.

‘she won’t share, better to get your own,’ she nods. oh. she was being nice. he’s sure there’ll be a catch somewhere.

‘oh right.. okay,’ he fumbles around in his pocket for his wallet, tossing a couple twenties onto the marble. maybe if he covered their food too, he’d get in their good books and would be welcomed back with open arms. he’s sure he could endure that.

pay for food and get magnificent pussy in return. seemed fair.

the two girls sit in silence until he gets to the bottom of the stairs and then robin pipes up once again, ‘will we be seeing you around here regularly, mr. munson?’

he pauses, staring back into the kitchen at the two girls. he’s not sure how to even respond. because actually, he’d been at your house every night this week, right under their noses. and if he were to hazard a guess, he’d be here most of next week too. and the next.

okay, maybe he was getting ahead of himself.

‘uh.. maybe?’ he shrugs, chuckling nervously. robin’s eyes are like slits, staring him down. she’d always been rather intimidating and now was no exception.

‘hm,’ she nods, shooing him off back up the stairs, ‘you’re dismissed,’ still clutching onto the clunky plastic phone.

he disappears rapidly, not wanting to hang around to find out what else she was going to pry about it. eddie reckons that he’s good at secrets, but if he was truly pressed, he’s not so confident in his ability to keep quiet.

you’re awake when he returns to your room, still dozing in bed but awake. he slinks back in, grateful to be away from their prying questions. you’re so sweet like this. not that he didn’t also adore the bossy, demanding side of you but he appreciated the docile part too.

‘you didn’t take my money,’ you point out, frowning at him from the pillow. he shuffles over to your side of the bed, smiling sheepishly.

‘i wanted to pay.. to say thank you,’ he nods, fiddling with his belt loop. he’s aware that you had already told him to stop saying thank you but he truly had to express his gratitude somehow.

‘stop doing that,’ you frown, glaring up at him, hand appearing from the blanket to grab onto his shirt. ‘if i didn’t want to have sex with you, i wouldn’t,’ fisting the material to pull him closer to the bed.

eddie’s not the most sturdy, stumbling and ultimately falling on top of you, just about catching himself before his head smashes into yours. that’d look really good to the girls he was trying to impress if he gave you a black eye, robin would probably get the pitchfork ready to murder him.

you squirm beneath him but your smile says it all, still clasped onto his tee. you’re slightly intimidating like this, well, you were all the time. but especially like this. just mere millimetres away from his face, gazing up at him with those bright eyes. he’s sure they held the glow of a thousand suns in them.

he breathes out shakily, fully aware that his entire body weight was on top of yours, ‘yeah.. shit, sorry,’ far too mesmerised by your eyes to want to move just yet.

‘apology accepted,’ you grin, smashing your lips to his, hand still fisted into his shirt. it’s lazy and messy, tongue creeping into his mouth the second you get the chance.

eddie can feel your thighs move, spreading apart to pull him in closer despite the barrier between you. holy shit. he didn’t think he’d find this so incredibly hot. grinding against you between the blanket.

downstairs, robin and nancy share a certain look when they notice the faint knocking of your headboard against the wall. robin’s nose curling the second she realises just what was happening. feeling the instant regret of ever asking him if he was to be around more often.

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x female reader smut #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #eddie munson stranger things #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson fanfic

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sturniholo · 10 months ago

Text

casual - matt sturniolo

in which things between you and matt get complicated

warning: some suggestive mentions

┊ ✫ ┊ ┊ ☾⋆ ┊ ⊹ ┊ ✯ ⋆ ┊

Complicated. The only word that could be used to describe your relationship with Matt. One minute it was lovey-dovey between the two of you, the next minute it was just having sex with him in his car.

You were currently in his bed, naked underneath his blankets. He was lying next to you, passed out, snores leaving his mouth. It was another one of those nights. He had called you over to hang out for the night, which ended with him on top of you, moaning your name.

You couldn’t complain though. Sex with Matt was great, it always was. He knew exactly how to take care of you, which spots to hit to make you go crazy. But after you both reached your orgasm, you couldn’t help but want more. Not another round, but more from him.

You had always seen Matt as a great guy. He was cute, quiet, and the most gentle guy you’ve ever met. In a way, this whole thing felt wrong to you. Just using each other for sex, even though there was a little more than that.

He had introduced you to all of his friends and even some of his family. During that moment, you felt like things could be progressing. He would eventually ask you to be his girlfriend, but you were wrong. Those things meant nothing.

You even went on a vacation with his family. They owned a vacation home in the Cape Cod area, which they stayed in frequently. They went up there for a long weekend and invited you. Safe to say, it was the most fun you’ve had in a long time.

However, nothing had changed. You were still just fuck buddies, nothing more. You had even managed to sneak a quickie in before dinner. He had you pressed against the bathroom sink, fingers in your mouth to muffle your moans.

No one questioned the dynamic between you two. They just thought you were talking or in the early stages of becoming a couple. But that wasn’t the case.

You rolled over, pulling the blanket tighter to your body. You stared off into space, trying to drown out your thoughts so you could go to sleep.

┊ ✫ ┊ ┊ ☾⋆ ┊ ⊹ ┊ ✯ ⋆ ┊

Your fingers twisted in Matt’s dark locks, pushing his face further into your cunt. He had you sprawled out in the back seat, his head between your thighs. His eyes occasionally glanced up at you, taking in the sight of you fucked out above him.

As his tongue continued to dance around your clit, you couldn’t help but think. How did every time you hung out end up like this? You let out a deep sigh, causing Matt to pull away from you. “What the fuck was that?” he asked as he wiped his mouth.

You sat up. “What?”

“You sigh as if I’m not giving you the best head you’ve ever received,” he said with a chuckle. You reached for your shorts, sliding them up your legs. You attempted to climb to the front seat, but a pair of hands around your waist stopped you. “Hey, what’s wrong?”

You look away from Matt, letting your hands fall in your lap. “What are we doing?” you ask with a chuckle. You look over to him. He has a confused look on his face, his eyebrows wrinkled. “This isn’t just two people fucking. There has to be something there.”

Matt goes silent. He was not expecting those words to come out of your mouth. “Y/n…” he trails off.

“Save me the bullshit that’s about to come out of your mouth. This isn’t just casual, Matt.” Another sigh escapes your mouth as you run your fingers through your hair. “I mean, I know most of your family, hell, I even went on a vacation with them. And we can’t go two days without fucking each other.” He looks away from you and stares out the window. “Just last week I was at your house. I even left my favorite bra on your floor. And now,” you start, “you're eating me out like your life depends on it.” You let out a soft laugh.

He still doesn’t say anything, which makes you scoff. “Look, it’s just a complicated situation, alright? Neither one of us agreed to anything more than this.” You can feel your heart break at his words.

“Matt…” you whisper. “I can’t do this. Please, just drive me home.” He looks over at you and nods, making you get out of the backseat. The two of you are back in the front, sitting in silence as he drives you home.

┊ ✫ ┊ ┊ ☾⋆ ┊ ⊹ ┊ ✯ ⋆ ┊

For the past few days, you’ve been lying in bed, letting your thoughts consume you. It’s been about a week since you last talked to Matt. He hasn’t bothered to reach out, so you didn’t feel the need to.

Your phone buzzed, pulling you out of your thoughts. You picked it up, glancing at the screen.

matt 👩‍❤️‍👨

come over. please.

i need to see you.

y/n

im not coming over just to fuck

find someone else

matt 👩‍❤️‍👨

thats not what it is

y/n please

y/n

be over in 5

You let out a sigh as you get up from your bed. You grab a hoodie that’s lying on your floor, not caring how long it’s been there, and pull it over your head. You grab your slippers and head out the door.

As you knock on the front door, you can’t help but feel nauseous. Like you shouldn’t be there. Before those feelings sink in anymore, Matt opens the door. He wears an expression that you’re unable to read.

“Thanks for coming. I just needed to see you.” You follow him into the kitchen, taking a seat at the table. He stands across from you, letting out a deep breath. “I’ve been thinking about what you said,” he looks at you, his nerves running rampant, “and I’m sorry.”

“Well, I appreciate the apology,” you say with a weak smile.

“That’s not all. I guess throughout our relationship, I’ve found that I have developed feelings for you.” Your expression softens as he speaks. “That’s why it was easy for the casual sex to happen. Deep down, I knew I wanted more, I guess I was just afraid.”

You stand up and walk over to him. Your arms wrap around his neck, your eyes staring into his. His hands find your waist, firmly holding onto it. “So, I guess what I’m trying to say is I want you to be my girlfriend. Will you be my girlfriend, y/n?”

Your heart bursts as he asks the question. This was the moment you’ve been waiting for since you first hung out with him. “Of course.” He smiles at you as he leans in, connecting your lips. You feel the same spark that you always felt when you kissed, it was just ten times stronger this time.

He pulls away before the kiss can get too hungry. “I still have your bra, by the way, the one you were complaining about.” You laugh at his words before leaning in once more, pressing a kiss to your boyfriend’s lips.

┊ ✫ ┊ ┊ ☾⋆ ┊ ⊹ ┊ ✯ ⋆ ┊

a/n: this is based off the song casual by chappell roan, which is incredible btw !!!

#sturniolo triplets #sturniolo fanfic #matt sturniolo #sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo x you #matthew sturniolo x reader #matt x reader #matthew sturniolo #matt sturniolo smut #matthew sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo #nick sturniolo #sturniolo smut

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buuniebaby · 7 months ago

Note

your first time with hamzah 🙈🙈

THERE’S A FIRST TIME FOR EVERYTHING. 🎀

includes: losing your virginity, awkward sex talk, very sweet sex ! 💝

word count 3.2k purr

you’re too tired for this.

you and hamzah are becoming sleep deprived, something you usually do together: come over to each others houses, watch a movie, eat food your stomach will regret in the morning. it’s been a tradition since you guys were just friends.

even now as you’re dating, it still feels.. the same. not that you’re complaining; you love having a partner who’s also a best friend to you. it just feels like there should be some sort of change, but you can’t put your finger on it.

it’s 2 in the morning now. you and hamzah have watched about 3 shitty 2000s movies, enjoying every moment of each one. your brain feels absolutely fried, and you can only imagine his is as well.

“are you a virgin?” hamzah spoke suddenly, but also casually. a little too casually. you choke on your own spit at that, face turning red with embarrassment.

“…what?” is all you can reply back. “what- why?” you say, eyebrows furrowing at him. your voice has noticeably pitched up.

“i dunno. just tell me.” hamzah says, rolling his eyes. you hate how confident and sassy he is, but you’re also sort of attracted to it.

“you’re so weird.” you practically squeal, jokingly. you grab onto a pillow as you fall back first onto the bed. “why do you even wanna know? that’s so like, random.” you ask, more genuine this time.

“i guess,” hamzah starts, but then pauses, almost as if he doesn’t know the answer himself.

“i was just kinda thinking. like, we don’t really talk about sex, ever. and we don’t have to- I don’t wanna bring it up if you’re uncomfortable. I’m just like, curious if you’d be down to talk about it.” he rambles, making up his words as he goes. you furrow your brows as he speaks, still kind of confused. you know there had to be something that started it, you just aren’t sure what.

“oh. well like,” you flush, sort of embarrassed to admit what you’re about to say. “yeah, i am.”

“a virgin?” hamzah asks, head tilting like a lost puppy.

“yes, idiot. what else would i be talking about?” you reply back sarcastically.

“you’re right, you’re right,” he banters with you. “I just- I guess I’m surprised.”

you perk back up, sitting yourself upright again.

“surprised.. that im a virgin?” you question, raising an eyebrow.

“i guess.. i dunno. I just feel like you’re like, too pretty to not have found someone who wants you like that.” he rambles. you feel a blush creep onto your cheeks again, knowing he’ll always praise you for your pretty face.

“i mean, I’ve found a lot of people who want me,” you say, rolling your eyes at the thought of a particular ex. “I’m just like, picky, I guess.” your giggling as hamzah somewhat laughs with you, but you watch as his facial expression starts to falter. you know something’s on his mind.

“do you want to?” is all he mutters. again, he keeps this quiet, casual tone that you rarely see with him.

“i mean, yeah, kinda. I just like, don’t know where to start I guess.” you answer honestly. “feels like everyone’s way more experienced than i am anyways.” hamzah turns over to you, looking in the eye. you feel him think for a second, as if he doesn’t know whether he should let his thoughts out or not.

“well, I don’t really have experience either.” he mutters back, scoping for a negative reaction from you. your eyes widen a bit, and he doesn’t know if he should take your body language negatively or positively.

“you’re a virgin too?” you ask, a more shy tone than usual.

“..yeah. well I’ve done like- stuff. just like, never had sex. never had my penis like, in there, y’know-“

“you don’t need to go into detail.” is all you have to say, talking over him.

“-but i would go all the way with you.”

that’s all you remember from that night before blacking out, yet somehow the short memory haunts your mind. it’s eating you up inside, the thought of losing your virginity after so long to him.

you’ve seen all the edits and thirst traps of him online and can admit that they’ve made you feel some type of way about him - hell, you’ve touched yourself to the idea of your boyfriend too. yet for some reason, the thought of actually having sex with him was never really a priority to you. it’s not until now you’ve understood people’s cravings for sex, but god can you feel it now.

you’re making breakfast the next morning while his hands are around your waist and all you can think of is that conversation. when you help him with editing throughout the day, leaning over his shoulder, all you can think about is him having you bent over like that in a different context. you feel like you’re in a haze almost, clouded by the thought of hamzah.

“baby?” hamzah asks, waving a hand in front of your face in an attempt to get your attention. you perk up and face him, slightly embarrassed for spacing out.

“i was just gonna ask if you wanted me to order something for lunch.” he says casually, but his face begins to fade into an expression between concerned and confused. “you okay?”

“what?!” you reply, scrambling at bit as you didn’t think he would pick up on your behavior. “im fine. what do you mean??” you question; rapidly.

“you’ve just been like, really spaced out today. i get like that, where i like dissociate sometimes when something reallyyy bad happens. so i just wanted to make sure.” he rambles a bit, genuine concern in your eyes. despite the horniness driving your body right now, you do feel a bit warmed by the way he cares for you.

“you can always talk to me if something’s up, y’know-“

“did you mean it?” you ask, staring at him blankly.

“mean… what?” he stares back at you, looking at you like you just killed a man in front of him.

“what you said last night. that you’d like- y’know..” you look down shyly, hiding in your hair as a warm blush creeps onto your face.

“that I would..?” hamzah looks at you, genuinely clueless.

“lose it to me hamzah. have sex with me. loose your virginity.” you look up at him, speaking sternly. you’re a little too pent up to take his stupidity today.

you watch as his expression changes, going from confused to something you can’t even put a name on. a mix of shocked, embarrassed, amused - but most prominently, you watch that urge crawl up into his body. you can tell in his eyes that he wants you in the same way you crave him.

“yeah.” he says, breathy. “i want that. like, now though? or like later, what are we doing-“

his words are cut off as your lips land on his. he gasps into the kiss, caught by surprise. you try and swipe your tongue against his slightly parted lips, but he pulls away before you can get it anywhere significant.

you look at him concerned after he pulls away, taking a second to breathe.

“have you like- kissed anyone before?” he asks, and you can tell he’s serious. you giggle a little.

“yes, ive kissed before.” you say, a little smile still formed on your face. “buuut..” you drag on your words to edge him on a bit.

“ive only made out with someone once, and i can already tell you’re the better kisser.” you say, slyly. he likes it when you boost his ego like this - he’s already proud of himself for pulling you, so you make him feel like some sort of greek god.

he smirks before he pulls you into another kiss, this time pressing his lips to yours a lot firmer. it’s more intense this time around, a hand cupping the side of your face, holding you in place for him as his tongue glides inside your mouth.

you kiss until you physically can’t anymore, pulling back when you need a break for air. there’s an awkward silence before he kisses you again, putting his hands on your waist sometimes. you’re taken aback a bit as he lifts you in the air.

your immediate reaction is to hook your legs onto something, hamzah just being the nearest option, of course. your legs wrap around him, straddling his hips. you arms are grabbing onto his shoulders gently. he’s strong enough to hold you without support, but you like the physical aspect of clinging onto him like a koala.

he reaches the room, fumbling with the doorknob as he struggles to lift you at the same time. he kicks the door closed softly behind him when he eventually gets in there. he drops you in the middle of the bed, body landing gracefully.

you sit yourself up into a more comfortable position, and hamzah sits himself right next to you. it’s here when you realize how comfortable you are around him, even if you’re about to reach a life milestone you can never take back with him.

but fuck, you’re never gonna be able to take this back. the anxiety crawls back up into your brain for a second, but the feeling of hamzah’s hand on your thigh relaxes you. a single look into his eyes and you’re already reassuring yourself again. you’re not gonna want to take this back, because god, you love this boy.

“have you ever-“ hamzah pauses mid sentence, stuttering. he does this when he doesn’t know what words to use; it’s one of his mannerisms that you’ve picked up a little yourself over time. “like, felt anyone up? or like- dry hump them, I guess.” he says. you feel him cringe a bit at his own words - he gets embarrassed easily.

“not really,” you say. a smirk creeps onto your face as you have an idea. “but you could show me how.”

hamzah’s eyes widen a bit as his hand moves from your thigh to your waist. he picks you up again like it’s nothing, sitting you down on his lap. his hands massage your waist, moving up briefly past your chest. he runs at your collarbone for a minute, staring at your clothed breasts.

“can i take this off?” he asks in a low voice, toying with the fabric at your shoulders. you bite your lip as you give him a nod, and before you know it whatever garment was covering you before is gone.

“fuckkk,” is all hamzah lets out before a hand is cupping your chest, squeezing at your soft and fleshy skin. instinctively, you push your chest into his hands. you let out a soft noise as he rolls one of your nipples between his fingers.

he’s fully hard now, and you can feel it straining against you. you can tell he’s trying to keep his hips still, not wanting to get worked up too fast.

his hands leave one side of your chest as his mouth attaches to your other nipple. you can’t help but moan at the feeling of him suckling at it. he pulls of for a second, and you can feel his hands fumbling with the fabric of your bottoms for a second.

“take this off for me?” he pleads in a sweet tone, and you can tell he’s starting to get needy. you comply, of course, leaving you in just your underwear. you don’t want to be the only one undressed though, so you shimmy his pants down a bit and get his shirt off too.

you’re left in both just underwear - a weird feeling. there’s not a lot of fabric separating your crotch and hamzah’s, so when he bucks his hips up into yours it feels good. he ducks down to kiss you again, chest pressing to yours, and god, you feel like you’re in heaven. there’s heat burning through your body as your bare skin touched his.

his hands are on your hips as you grind against him, the thin material of his boxers straining against his cock. he reaches down to rub you through your underwear, eliciting a moan as you hide his head in your shoulder.

he stops your grinding for a second, a hand trailing up your thigh. he uses it to spread your legs wide, causing you to make a small noise. he pulls your panties to the side, showing off what he’s wanted all this time.

he’s already settling lower, head balance with your hips, and now you’re nervous. it’s your first time being touched like this - probably his too, and it’s scary. you close your eyes when you feel him plant a kiss on your hip, teasing you. he continues to kiss around, even guiding a hand back up to play with your chest, but it’s not enough.

“please,” you whimper, begging for more stimulation. hamzah takes it as a sign you’re ready, and before you know it, you’re squirming again.

he presses just a single finger inside you, scoping how much you’re able to take. your stomach flips as you feel him spread you open. he adds another finger once the first one is in knuckle deep, then begins to curl them inside of you. you whimper at the feeling as his fingers excel in speed, working you open.

“hamzah- fuck.” you whine, letting out an especially sharp gasp at the feeling of his fingers hitting that spot.

“yeah?” he asks, playfully, curling his fingers to hit the same spot. your pelvis thrusts up at the movement, only motivating him to go further. his hands are so fucking big and he’s so strong when he thrusts his fingers up into you. it burns in the best way possible.

“ah- hamzah!” you squeal, squirming around. you whine when you feel him pull away from him; you were so, so close to finishing. you look up at him and whimper, a sad expression plastered across your face.

“didn’t want you to cum yet,” hamzah mutters under his breath. “not done with you.”

you flush red, his words washing over your body in a hot wave. suddenly hamzah is moving, pulling down his boxers, and god his dick is big. you can’t help but whine at how badly you want it inside you.

“so noisy.” he mumbles, lining his cock up with your folds and sliding the tip between them. you only whine more at his teasing.

“hamzahh,” you complain, eager for him to stop teasing you and just put it in.

“mhm?” he replies, edging you on. he strokes himself a bit, acts as if he’s going to put it in, but then doesn’t. he knows what he’s doing and you hate it. “need something, baby?”

he’s so mean, making you beg.

“I need it so bad, hamzah, pleeasee-“ you beg, desperate. you don’t care how humiliating it is now, you need him.

“need what, baby?” he asks, obviously only to get a reaction out of you. you sigh, but you know what you need to do.

“fuck me, hamzah. i need you - your cock.” you beg, no - demand, firmly.

hamzah doesn’t stall once he’s gotten what he wants. he’s done with the teasing, pressing his tip into you. you let out a shaky moan - it hurts a little when he slides in, like ripping off a bandaid.

“hamzah- hurts.” is all the words you can get out. his hips still inside of you, waiting for you to take a breath before he continues.

“it’s okay baby. gonna feel better once I’m all the way in.” he mutters, caressing your cheek with the hand that isn’t holding him up. he wasn’t lying - it’s painful as he slides himself into you, stretching you out, but once your hip-to-hip with him there’s a comfortable peace to the feeling.

you two lay in that position for a minute, feeling the warmth of connection between your bodies. it’s a soft, loving touch - you feel safe in his arms.

“s’okay if i move now?” he whispers to you, keeping a gentle tone. at the end of the day, he’s here to take care of you.

“yeah. thank you.” you say, genuinely grateful for his patience. you remind yourself that it’s his first time doing this too; you’re not alone in your anxiety.

you clutch onto his shoulders as he nearly pulls out, cock sliding out of you to the tip, then slams back into you.

“h-hamzah!” you whimper, clawing your nails at his back. he keeps a similar pace, thrusting into you deep. even hamzah makes a small noise at the feeling of being inside you, hips stuttering against yours. the sound of skin slapping together and breathy moans fills the room.

you wrap your arms and legs around hamzah as he continues to thrust into you, clinging to him.

“so pretty.” he says, looking down at you. “there’s a reason- fuck- i wanted to fuck you in missionary. pretty face.” he stutters, moving a hand to caress your face. you can’t say anything else but whimper at him, overstimulated from a combination of his thrusts and his words.

you feel a tight feeling build in your stomach, almost like a coil nearing its breaking point. you clench around him, legs beginning to shake.

“aah- hamzah! fuck-“ you practically scream, rolling your hips up into his one last time before you orgasm. he just stares at you, slowing the roll of his own hips, in awe.

you notice as his pace slows after you catch your breath, looking up at him almost disappointed.

“what’re you doing?” you mumble, voice worn out.

“you finished, i don’t wanna-“ he begins to ramble, but you cut him off.

“keep going.” you say firmly.

“huh?”

“want you to cum too.” you say, voice still soft and tired. you roll your hips up into him, still sensitive. he nods, pushing back into you.

he continues to thrust into you rougher and rougher until his hips are slapping against yours with every thrust. every little noise you make turns him on more, until finally, he forces himself to pull out of you.

he strokes himself on top of you, a string of cum landing on your stomach. he’s panting as he finishes all over you, painting your stomach white. you smile at the scene, enjoying the was he’s made you his little art piece.

he collapses next to you, laying on his back, catching his breath.

“glad i waited.” you mumble. he turns over to you, looking into your eyes.

“waited for what?” he asks, tiredly tilting his head.

“like, to have sex. m’glad I waited until you.” you mumble, tiredness apparent in your voice. hamzah thinks his heart melts a little at your words.

he grabs a tissue off of his bedside table and wipes the cum off of you so that he can pull you into his arms, dragging the covers over your body.

“i’m glad i waited for you too.”

#hamzah x reader #hamzah x y/n #hamzahthefantastic x reader #hamzah smut #hamzahsmut

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