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mypoisonedvine · 1 year

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"𝙄 𝙬𝙖𝙣𝙩𝙚𝙙 𝙝𝙞𝙢 𝙩𝙤 𝙨𝙚𝙚 𝙬𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙄'𝙢 𝙜𝙤𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙩𝙤 𝙙𝙤 𝙩𝙤 𝙮𝙤𝙪." | dark!jackson rippner x reader

(I'm sorry but also no I'm not because wes craven knew exactly what he was doing when he put that line in the movie... he fucking knew...)

𝙨𝙪𝙢𝙢𝙖𝙧𝙮 | after following you for weeks as part of his job, jackson got a few ideas in his head about making you his, but finding out you had a boyfriend meant he needed to change his approach.

𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝙘𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙩 | just under 9k (wow what the actual fuck)

𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨 | DARK NONCON SMUT (18+ only, don't keep reading if you're not physically or emotionally mature enough to manage your own content consumption please and thank you), knife kink, stalking, forced exhibitionism, forced infidelity, humiliation, vaginal and anal sex (whoops), pain kink/painal, ass to pussy (god this fic is disgusting lmao), hair pulling, brief breeding kink/forced breeding, some angst but really it's just filth

once again, this is a dark character being dark and I don't wanna hear y'all acting brand new about it so no hate please. that said, if you do enjoy this (which I very much hope you do) please consider reblogging to support my work :) comments are especially appreciated and literally make me so so happy!!

Following you was just part of the job— and Jackson did not like his job mixing with his personal life.

The problem was, he hadn’t had much of a personal life lately. No time for it; one or two hook-ups, women he met in bars, but that’s it. And believe it or not, he wanted more than that. Nobody would accuse Jackson of being sentimental— not really an attitude you can have when you organize illegal weapons sales and political assassinations— but he wasn’t made of stone. He wanted to be able to share at least part of his life with someone… or, you know, have a nice set of legs waiting for him at home that he could get between every night. Either, or both, would do.

It was an unfortunate coincidence that his realization that he wanted a girlfriend, or at the very least a plaything of his own, came right around the same time that he started to follow you. He was only doing it to pick up on your habits, figure out a way to get to you so he could blackmail you into being his inside man for his next job. It was supposed to be pretty simple: you were a museum events coordinator in charge of an upcoming lecture series which would feature a speech from a Bolivian presidential candidate who was unfortunately unfriendly to cartels. The American government not only endorsed him, but had him under incredibly tight security. This speaking event was going to be a rare chance to get to him in a public space without metal detectors, and Jackson was being compensated generously to ensure your museum would let a few extra attendees in the back.

But see, the Bolivian presidential election was the last thing on Jackson’s mind as he watched you through your window. His eyes drifted all over you, mesmerized by the way you prepared yourself for your day— styling your hair in the mirror, smoothing the wrinkles in your white button-up, pulling those stockings up your thighs…

He caught himself biting his lip and shook it off, straightening up in the driver’s seat of his car; he knew he should probably leave then, beat you to your work and then wander into the museum to feign interest in a few artifacts before striking up a conversation. But he loitered a bit longer, letting himself imagine how quickly he could rip off those clothes you were so thoughtfully dressing yourself with.

Eventually, he managed to pull his attention away from you and start the car, sighing as he tried to remember his plan of attack for ‘accidentally’ meeting you later today.

The museum might’ve been interesting, if he wasn’t so distracted by you. He was loitering, hands in his pockets, pretending to look at the paintings and artifacts as he waited for you to be near enough to strike up an innocuous conversation with. Early in the day, he saw you give a tour to a couple considering the museum for a wedding location, but kept his distance— it could be a while before you were available and he didn't want you to notice him yet, or he'd have to justify having been in the museum all day by himself.

For the first time since he’d started this job, Jackson felt slightly nervous to speak to you. It was always a big step, going from following someone to actually approaching them, but usually it didn’t give him any specific emotional reaction. Sure, he might feel a certain amount of pressure to do this correctly lest he blow the whole thing by tipping off his target, but he never was worried something would go wrong. This time, though, he felt his heart picking up every time he glanced at you from across the museum, closer to you than he’d ever been. His palms were even a bit clammy when he saw you walk by and realized this was the moment he needed to strike. God, did he really have a crush? How pathetic… but he couldn’t worry about that now, he was about to lose his chance as you brushed by him quickly.

"Miss?" he got your attention, gently touching your shoulder through your shirt as you passed by; you seemed a little startled by the physicality, yes, but not exactly offended.

"Oh, um— can I help you?" you said. He’d heard you speak before, on the wiretap and all, but it was a little different in person like this— and directed at him.

"I was gonna ask you about this sculpture, if you didn't mind," he explained with a gentle smile.

"Oh, well, one of our dosants would love to talk to you about our collection—" you began, starting to look for the closest staff member designated to help him, but he interrupted.

"So, you don't know anything about the stuff here?"

Your attention moved back to him and you smiled to hide your obvious defensiveness. "No, I do," you assured, "I actually am uniquely equipped to tell you about this sculpture: I studied Incan art specifically during my master's program."

He gave his best 'quietly impressed' face and nodded; he knew he could get you with that, you had kind of a know-it-all thing going on, which he happened to find annoyingly attractive. "Alright, then tell me about it," he challenged.

"Well," you sighed, crossing your arms as you looked at the piece, "we got this one a few years ago, it's actually a ceremonial vessel— there’s the llama head and the bird on this side here, those were both animals with a lot of cultural significance…”

As you pointed out elements of the vessel, he leaned in ostensibly to look at where you were gesturing— but it was all an excuse to get close to you, warm you up to him.

“They would’ve used this to pour essentially a form of beer on the ground,” you continued, “in hopes of increasing the strength of the crops and fertility."

"Fascinating," he smiled at you, and you didn’t back away when he stood closer. Like fish in a barrel. "How old is it?"

"It's estimated to be about four or five hundred years old,” you explained.

"Wow," he nodded, looking at the stone carving behind the glass again. "It's interesting to me that humans have always made art— and always been superstitious. Though I have to be honest, if I was living before the invention of birth control I don't think I'd be praying for fertility."

You smirked a little, and he hoped he hadn't gone too far— but it was fun to look at you and know what you must be thinking about. He could only hope that you were thinking about it with him in mind.

“Jackson, by the way,” he introduced himself, “my name’s Jackson. It feels unfair that you’ve gotta wear the nametag and I get to be anonymous.”

You laughed a little, glancing down at the silver nametag on your blazer and then back up at him. “Fair enough; welcome to our museum, Jackson.”

“So, wait,” he tilted his head, “forgive the late reaction here, but— if you’ve got a master’s degree of that caliber, how’d you end up as an event planner?”

“Well, believe it or not, the position does require historical knowledge,” you explained. “I started in curation, though— just moved to events because I was too cooped up in the back offices… I like meeting new people.”

Although Jackson would never consider himself particularly empathetic, he did think he had a decent sense of people— specifically, when they were lying. And that felt like a lie— a white lie, maybe, but still. A lie you were telling yourself most of all, that this was what you wanted to do. And it wasn’t that he really thought you disliked your job, moreso that his two weeks of following you did not indicate you harbored a strong desire to meet new people. You were a total homebody: rejecting offers to go out for drinks or dinner from friends and coworkers, staying up late watching TV instead of hitting the town or something, shrinking into your room every night and staying there until it was time to go to work again. He’d only seen you leave your house once that first weekend, and it was to pick up groceries— that’s it. No hot date, no concerts… almost no social life at all. Either you stayed late at the museum, or you went home.

And he also found that annoyingly attractive. Jackson, after all, was a workaholic himself; he imagined he would go out and do fun things, if he had the time, but right now nothing sounded better than going home and cuddling up with a sweet girl like you, being lazy couch potatoes together, resting after a long day of espionage, cyberterrorism, actual terrorism, and whatever else his work day got him up to.

….Jesus, when did he get so goddamn sentimental?!

“It certainly seems like a unique job,” Jackson replied.

“Every day’s a little different,” you agreed.

“Sounds like my job,” he snorted, “but I don’t work with other people much— I think it would be more entertaining with other people around. Especially when they can tell me everything there is to know about Incan art.”

“Okay, I don’t know everything,” you backpedaled, not seeming to really notice the larger sentiment of his statement, “but I can certainly hold my own. I like to think we all have something we know a little too much about, and could ramble for ages about.”

“Yeah, I hope so, or we’re just weirdos,” he chuckled. “For me it’s probably cocktails. I’m not an alcoholic or anything— I actually don’t drink that much, just socially, you know— but I have this thing where I can guess anybody’s favorite drink order.”

“Oh?” you raised an eyebrow.

“Yeah,” he smirked, “but hold on, I can’t guess yours until I really get the vibes.”

“Oh,” you nodded, “yeah— vibes, sure.”

“Hmm,” he pondered, narrowing his eyes as he looked you up and down, biting his lip like he was really thinking about it.

Here was the hard part: he really hadn’t seen you go out for drinks this whole time, so he was actually going to have to guess. Of course, the fun part of this game was not actually getting it right— if anything, it worked better when he got corrected. All he really needed was to get you alone long enough to tell you who he really was, what he needed from you, and how he was going to motivate you to do it… but if he could actually seduce you first, that would be a hell of a bonus.

“I’m thinking something a little sweet, not too fruity though,” he thought aloud, “something classic— you have an old soul, I think.”

You seemed to be a little surprised by that analysis, but he figured that meant he was mostly right.

“Your cocktail of choice is, obviously, a sidecar,” he announced.

For a second, he thought he might have got it from the way you smiled, but then you started to laugh. “You were on the right track,” you admitted.

“Damn,” he snapped his fingers in playful frustration. After a pause, he realized, “you’re not gonna tell me?”

“I figured I’d give you another guess,” you explained.

“Or,” Jackson countered, “I could take you out tonight, and you could show me yourself. Your drink order, I mean.”

Alright, that was forward, but he figured he’d been doing well so far. Instead, though, you tensed up a bit, causing Jackson to knit his eyebrows together for a moment. “I would, really, but, I have plans tonight… with my boyfriend,” you said.

He swallowed behind a barely-suppressed frown. Following you for all this time and he hadn’t noticed any boyfriend; were you lying just to get him to back off? You’d seemed so flattered before. “Oh?” Jackson tried to get out in his most neutral voice. “That’s great— is he taking you somewhere nice?

“Even better,” you blinked quickly, a shy smile lifting your face. “He works here at the museum, but he’s been gone almost an entire month to pick up some artifacts from around Eastern Europe… hasn’t even been able to use a phone out there. So he’s promised to come over and give me a first look at everything he got, and apparently he’s brought something just for me, so…”

“That’s sweet,” Jackson replied, willing his nostrils not to twitch. “Nice to know he was thinking of you all the way over there. I travel a lot for my work, actually, and it’s… hard to find somebody loyal these days.”

You nodded in agreement, sighing slightly. “Yeah, it is.”

“I mean, gone for a month, no communication, no reminders of you— just out there surrounded by opportunities and nothing keeping him from them,” Jackson went on. “That’s a lot to get through without at least one drunken encounter.”

You furrowed your brow, looking at him with a sort of grimace. “I… I guess,” you mumbled in reply. “I do have a lot of work to get done so I think I’ll just let you explore,” you decided.

“What if I have more questions about the pieces?” he asked.

“Try reading the little plaque underneath it,” you suggested flatly, already turning and walking away.

Jackson watched to leave for a second before scoffing to himself. Bitch. But it didn’t make a difference anyways: one way or another, he was going to get to you— for the sake of the job, of course. Although this boyfriend character was certainly a spanner in the works of his secondary plan to get you in bed, Jackson had to admit that he was ultimately an advantage for his actual purpose with you: an attachment, something he could exploit to get what he wanted. Do what I say, or he gets hurt.

Of course, he knew he should use that to make you be his inside man for that stupid lecture series— he wasn’t going to get the second half of his payoff until the cartel had their chance to make an example out of the visiting politician. But, as a small smile crept over his face while he walked out of the museum, he realized that he could use his leverage for so much more than that.

The door was unlocked when you got home; beaming, you realized it meant that your boyfriend beat you here, and was likely waiting for you just around the corner.

“Babe?” you called out, shutting the door behind you and shirking your purse and blazer to set down on the wooden credenza.

And yes, he was waiting for you around the corner alright, but you gasped in shock and felt your stomach sink when you saw him. He was bound to a chair with zipties, restrained at his wrists and ankles with tape over his mouth, looking a bit roughed up and absolutely terrified.

“Oh my god!” you gasped, running to him, but he oddly seemed to pull away from you as much as he could when you tried to break one of the ties. “What the fuck, what’s— oh my god, are you—?” you rushed, not even knowing where to start and just focusing on freeing him. But he just kept letting out muffled grunts and shaking his head— like he didn’t want you to keep going. Of course, you’d been so shocked by it that you hadn’t even considered why he looked so scared, why he seemed to want you to get away from him: whoever did this was still in the house.

It seemed obvious in retrospect, but it was too late now; you screamed when someone grabbed you, but the sound was muted by a hand over your mouth. “Shh,” a voice beside your ear soothed as a blade pressed to your neck. “Nobody’s going to get hurt if you behave.”

Your boyfriend hung his head defeatedly, and you thought you heard the sound of him crying though it was hard to tell.

“You missed him quite a lot, didn’t you?” the man asked, and you wrinkled your brows together as you wondered how he could’ve known that he was gone for a while. “Left you all alone here, poor thing— probably got all worked up, lonely, needy… like three nights ago, when I saw you through your bedroom window, touching yourself."

Your face burned with humiliation— not even that he saw you doing that, really, but just knowing he'd been watching you for god-knows how long. That made you feel more violated than anything.

“Wanted to help you so bad,” he purred, “but I had to wait. I’m not waiting anymore— you’ve got me feeling pretty fucking impatient these days.”

You kept thinking about what you could do to get him away from you— his feet were just behind yours, you could stomp on his shoe and hope it hurt enough to distract him, or maybe you could wrench your elbow back into his side— but with the knife at your throat, you were afraid that he’d be faster than you if you tried anything. “Please just— don’t hurt me, please,” you begged, whimpering a little, not sure what else to say at a time like this.

“Oh, honey,” he cooed, “you sound so sweet when you’re scared.”

It was the way he said that word: sweet. It reminded you of before, something you’d done your best to forget about all day. Something a little sweet, not too fruity— that weird guy at the museum, he’d said it just like that. “Oh my god,” you breathed, “it’s— it’s you.”

“You remember my name, don’t you?” he smiled.

“Jackson,” you recalled, “you— oh my god—”

“I’m sure you’re a little relieved,” he chuckled, addressing your boyfriend with a grin as you turned your head enough to look up at his semi-familiar face. “She was so into me when we met today at the museum,” Jackson informed him proudly. “You wanted me to fuck you then, didn’t you, baby?”

“No I fucking di—” you began to deny with a sneer, but he quieted you with a finger over your mouth— of course, a finger from the hand still holding the knife, to remind you exactly why you should stop talking.

“Now, try anything, I might just have to hurt you— or, better yet, your shitstain boyfriend over there,” Jackson warned. “I’m just waiting for an excuse to break a few of his fingers. Don’t give me one.”

Swallowing, you shut your eyes for a longer moment— you couldn’t believe this was actually happening, like one of those horrific news articles you read before bed just to torture yourself. Like one of those horror movies guys think are campy and fun but give you the most awful sick feeling because that could really happen. And now it was really happening, and your first thought was somehow to wonder what you did wrong to let this happen.

“So, are you gonna be a good girl for me?” he asked, tilting his head down to look at you questioningly.

You nodded, but he wasn’t satisfied.

“Say it.”

“Yes,” you answered quickly, and he snarled with frustration.

“No, baby, say it like I said it,” he insisted, his tone a warning not to test him again.

“I’m gonna be… I’m gonna be a good girl…” you choked out.

“Whose good girl?” he taunted, and you groaned as you shut your eyes, feeling him pull you closer to him and press his face close to yours.

“Yours! Your good girl,” you spat out, breath picking up as you heard him purr against your cheek. “Jackson— please, you don’t… you don’t have to do this. Please don’t do this.”

You shivered as the knife pressed against you again and moved from your neck down to your shirt, gently slicing off the top button and exposing a little more of your chest. “Mm, but I want to,” he explained, “wanted you since I first saw you.”

You hated the realization that he likely first saw you quite some time ago, before you ever knew he existed, and that he’d been waiting for this ever since then.

“I think it turns you on, knowing I can do whatever I want to you,” he presumed, cutting off a second button from your shirt.

“Please just go,” you begged, starting to properly cry as his teeth grazed your neck. “You’re right— you can do whatever you want. I can’t stop you. Isn’t that what you wanted to prove? Just… just don’t make me—”

“Make you?” he repeated. “No, no— you wanted me. I could tell. Only thing stopping you was him.”

He pointed towards your boyfriend with the knife in his hand, who looked devastated and horrified to say the least.

“You could do better, by the way,” Jackson informed you. “You should be with somebody who can really treat you right.”

Another button fell to the floor; your bra was visible now, baby pink lace, and your nipples hardened from the cool air on your skin— that, and the way Jackson’s breath fanned across the nape of your neck.

“Are you getting wet for me, baby?” he whispered to you as his knife trailed delicately over your skin, tracing the curve of your breasts. “Think it’s time for me to finally give you what you need?”

You took a deep, but shaky, breath as you tried to put on a brave face and brace for what was to come. “My… my bedroom is upstairs,” you whispered, and Jackson laughed in a way that made your skin crawl.

“Oh, eager already,” he taunted.

“I just wanna get this over with,” you insisted.

“Sure,” he said facetiously with a mischievous smirk and a wink to match; you felt like you were gonna be sick. “But bedrooms are a little, you know… basic? That’s probably what you’re used to, real traditional stuff: missionary, in the bed, in the dark, for a few minutes on weekends only. That’s the vibe I’m getting, at least. You’re not used to being with somebody romantic— you know, spontaneous.”

He turned you around to face him, making you yelp a little as he spoke by your ear.

“Somebody who just has to have you; right here, right now,” he cooed, running his tongue along the outside of your ear before suddenly kissing roughly along your neck.

“N-no, please,” you begged, imagining the humiliation you were in store for if he really did fuck you on your living room floor in front of the man you loved. “Please, I— I said I’ll be good for you, just— take me to my room, please.”

"No, baby,” Jackson purred as he held your chin, “let’s show your little boyfriend here what you look like when a real man fucks you, huh?"

Whining, you jerked your arms forward to try to break away, but it only ensured the bruises his fingers would leave on your skin.

A second later, you were shoved to the ground, and he was on top of you wearing a wide grin. You could hear your boyfriend kicking and screaming in the corner, but your attention was more focused on Jackson starting to open his belt.

"Fuck! Get the fuck off of me!" you yelped, kicking and shoving as hard as you could and finding each one more helpless than the last. "You— you fucking piece of shit!"

He smacked you across the face only to pull it back harshly by the jaw, glaring into your eyes. "Better be careful with that dirty mouth," he warned, shoving two fingers between your lips until you gagged on them. "Don't need to wash that out with soap, do we?"

As you choked, you shook your head, hoping it would be enough of an apology to get you some air.

"How about come?" he joked, making you gag for more than one reason, and he laughed at the tears that rolled down your temples.

He took his fingers out of your mouth and reached down to his fly again, letting out a small satisfied sigh as he freed himself. You sobbed a little when you accidentally caught a glimpse of his erection in his hand; he grunted when you tried to push him off again, and responded by grabbing both your wrists and pinning them down above your head. He hummed as he stroked himself a bit, looking down at you trapped under him.

“Thought you said you were gonna be good for me,” he recalled, chuckling when you bit your shaking lip. “You sure you don’t need me to hurt Romeo over there, give you a little motivation?”

You shook your head. “No— I’m sorry, I’ll do what you say. Don’t hurt him.”

“Open your legs,” he ordered.

Hesitantly, you lifted your legs up a bit and spread them, cringing at the happy groan you heard when your skirt started to roll up your thighs.

“Don’t move your hands,” he warned before he let go of them, leaning back and looking down at you: spread out under him, his for the taking.

He snapped off the last few buttons of your shirt, humming when your torso was exposed further. His hand started at your neck and ran down to grope your chest through the lacy bra; he purred, pinching your hardened nipples until you were forced to react.

Pulling it down, he took a quick breath at the sight of your bare tits— his chest rising and falling— and he set his knife aside to knead them both with a hum. "Been thinking about these for a while…" he mumbled. You gasped when he leaned down and captured a nipple in his mouth, suckling with a wide mouth as you scrunched your nose and looked away. Still, it made your insides pulse when he swirled his tongue around, only to pop off a second later and move to the other. "Damn," he breathed, leaning back again to move his attention lower.

Starting at your knees, he rubbed your legs carefully, moving a little higher every time until he was gripping needily at your thighs; his own breathing was a little faster as he did it.

You hadn't exactly imagined how this would be, obviously, but you still were surprised at how long he was taking. Was he just trying to build up the anticipation to scare you? Or was it for his own benefit?

He was gentle for just a few seconds before suddenly flaring his nostrils and ripping your stockings open. Through the new hole in the fabric, he rubbed your panties and you bit down on your tongue to avoid crying any harder.

“Fuck,” he breathed, then laughed, as he pet your cunt through the lace— they matched your bra, of course. Your boyfriend was coming back from a long trip, you’d wanted to do something nice for him… that idea backfired completely. “All dressed up, matching and everything… you’re too good to me, babydoll.”

You were about to correct him, make sure both of them knew that this had nothing to do with Jackson, but your open mouth only let out a gasp when Jackson pulled your panties aside to touch you.

“Oh, baby,” he groaned when he slid two fingers between your lips. “So wet. Fuck. When’d you get like that, huh? Hmm, it was the knife, wasn’t it?”

He looked over at your boyfriend and gave him a terribly smug look while he slipped a finger inside your hole.

“Women like a sense of danger,” he informed the tied man flatly. “But… I think your girl likes it even more than most.”

You flexed on his finger, turning his attention back to you, and he licked his lips as he slipped another finger in until you winced.

“That’s too much for you already, baby?” he noticed. “Fuck, I might break you…”

He curled the fingers inside you, clearly trying to get you warmed up for him, and you shut your eyes tight in hopes your face wouldn’t show any reaction. There was a sense of relief when he stopped and pulled his fingers out, but it didn’t last long since the next thing he did was grab your jaw and press those fingers to your lips.

“Ever tasted yourself before?” he asked, and you tried to turn your face away but it was useless. “Come on, it’s good, I’ll show you.”

He licked his own fingers first, moaning in satisfaction as he did it.

“Fuck, it’s sweet,” he promised. “Now you try it.”

This time, when he put his fingers to your mouth, you opened it and let him push them inside. He slid them over your tongue, watching you with dark eyes.

“Suck them,” he instructed you quietly, almost a whisper, and though your cheeks burned you wrapped your lips around his fingers and hollowed your cheeks. “Mm, that’s it— see, you can be a good girl. Knew you could.”

You were panting a little, for some reason, when he took his fingers away, leaving your mouth slack and wet. He brought his hands down to his fly to finish freeing his cock, and you looked up, to the side, basically anywhere but at… that.

“Look at it,” he encouraged you, and you shook your head. “Don’t you wanna see it before I put it inside you?”

You figured you could get him to shut up if you just did it, so you went ahead and took a glance down at his erection in his hand, only for a terrified whimper to catch in your throat.

“I can tell what you’re thinking,” he grinned. “Trying to remember the last time you had a dick this big, right?”

Trying to figure out how that’s supposed to fit.

“Get on your hands and knees for me,” he demanded suddenly, sitting back enough to get you room to do it.

You hesitated, and he suddenly looked angry as he grabbed your wrist and yanked you up a bit until you yelped.

“Go on! Hands and fucking knees, did I stutter?” he ordered, louder.

You were a little sore and weak all over, and it became even more apparent when you awkwardly got up off the floor; you avoided your boyfriend’s gaze as you took the position, opting to just stare down at the rug under you instead, suddenly fascinated by every detail in hopes it could somehow distract you from this. From the feeling of him delicately pushing your skirt up over your ass and his hands all over you, from the way he pushed your knees apart with his own and settled between them, from the sick drop in your stomach as his cock’s head rubbed over your clit and lined up to your opening. Yes, it sure was a riveting pattern on this rug alright…

But, of course, Jackson wouldn’t let you get through this that easily. “Beg for it,” you heard his firm voice from behind you.

“Jackson, come on, I—” you choked, “I— just—”

“It’s okay, babydoll, go on…” he egged you on, as if shyness was the reason you were hesitating.

“Please…” you began, shutting your eyes tightly. “Please fuck me.”

You tried not to react too much when he pushed inside, but it was big, and he himself let out a husky groan at the feeling as he filled you. You managed to stay silent at first, but a little squeak came out halfway through, and it turned into a loud sigh when he was all the way inside. “Fuck,” he breathed, dropping his head back with a breathy laugh. “Fuck, it’s tight. Guess that’s what happens when nobody’s here to treat you right— and I don’t just mean because he was out of town. I can tell nobody’s given you what you need in a long time…”

Before you could wonder what could possibly make him capable of telling that, he took a tight hold of your hips and began to fuck you— slower than you expected, but not quite delicate.

Shaking, you tried to keep yourself propped up on your wobbly arms as he set his pace, and tried to keep yourself quiet while he did this. The last thing he needed was any more reasons to think you liked this.

Still, you couldn’t fight the whimper that came when he suddenly slammed himself into you, rougher than before; your thighs even quivered for a moment. “Fuck,” you choked out, under your breath, and he hummed back at you as he sped up a little.

“Not too deep, is it?” he asked, though it didn’t seem like he was actually concerned for your well-being (obviously). “Not used to anything this big, huh?”

You were afraid he was going to force you to answer that, but instead he surprised you by putting a hand between your shoulder blades and shoving you down; you gasped and grunted when your chest pressed to the floor, your face thankfully turned to the side against the rug— but unfortunately, it meant you were looking right at your boyfriend. You had to shut your eyes, too ashamed that he was seeing you like this.

“There, you like that better?” he purred as he held your hips up against his, but the new angle only forced him deeper until you were choking on nothing with every thrust. Your hands searched wildly along the floor for something to hold onto, but eventually just had to settle for gripping the rug for dear life. “Mm, fuck, s’good— you feel so fucking good, baby…”

The compliment sent an unwilling shiver up your spine, and your back arched even deeper than he’d forced it to. It was too much, it was all far too much, but your toes were curling inside your (ruined) pantyhose and you bit down on your lip without thinking about it.

“Oh, see how much she likes it?” Jackson grunted, apparently still addressing the captive boyfriend in the chair— you really wished he would just leave him out of this. “Fuck, what a pretty little whore…”

Not only could he switch from sickly-sweet to rageful in a moment, but you realized that he could somehow seem to be both at once. Still spitting out praises and insults all at one, he fucked you rougher and meaner as your moans— pain or pleasure, you couldn’t tell anymore and you didn’t want to— grew louder. He kept getting more aggressive— harder and faster, harder and faster— until you were all but screaming and you couldn’t keep your hips up anymore. Each thrust pushed you down until you were flat against the floor, but he kept fucking you and holding the back of your neck. One thrust seemed to go too deep suddenly, and you yelped as you reached back to try to grab his thigh out of instinct.

“Shh, shh, s’okay, baby,” he assured with a hiss. “Fuck.”

But he kept doing it, kept fucking you deep (if a little slower) as you whined and shook under him. “Jackson,” you heard yourself breathe, “please— I-I can’t—”

“God,” he growled, “say my name again. That’s so hot.”

You hadn’t meant it like that, but now it was too late. “N-no,” you tried to deny, but that didn’t last long as he grabbed you by the hair and forced your head up, laying over you enough to speak right against your ear.

“Say. My fucking. Name,” he spat.

“Jackson,” you choked out against the strain on your throat from having your neck cranked back like this. “Jackson, f-fuck—”

He groaned and dropped your head, propping himself up so he could fuck you faster again; his gaze moved down to where his body filled yours, where each thrust made your ass bounce under torn pantyhose…

As he slowed down for a moment, panting, you wondered if maybe it was almost over— maybe it already was, but that seemed too good to be true. He was still holding you down just as hard, anyway; he put his whole weight on your arms as he turned to look at your boyfriend tied up in the chair.

"Does she do anal?" Jackson asked him point-blank.

Your struggle renewed as you screamed angrily— but you couldn't keep it up, it fell into a helpless sob a moment later. Your boyfriend didn't give much of an answer— couldn't, really, on account of the duct tape— just kicked around against his restraints again.

Jackson shrugged as he looked down at you crying under him. "Well, you do now," he decided, pulling out and spitting into his hand.

You’d never felt so helpless, laying there on the floor while he pushed his fat tip up to your puckered hole. “Please,” you begged for mercy, but you didn’t even have the energy to lift your head from the rug and it was all muffled and pathetic.

“It’s really not that bad,” he insisted as he started to press forward, but your whole body jumped and you let out a loud whine when his head slipped inside with a sort of pop— all that pressure giving way to a sick, stinging stretch.

“Oh my god oh my god,” you whimpered, feeling goosebumps break out all over your body from the sharp pain. “I can’t— please, I really can’t—”

“Shh, it’s okay, I’m gonna go real slow,” he promised under his breath, moaning loudly as he pushed in a little deeper. Laying on the floor like this, there was really nowhere for you to go, no way to run from the feeling. “Just breathe, long slow breaths— focus on staying relaxed.”

Frustratingly, it was actually pretty good advice; it certainly didn’t make it painless, but when you shut your eyes and thought as much about breathing and as little about anything else as you could, it helped.

“See? Just relax, babydoll,” he whispered, but relaxing could only do so much as he slid the rest of the way in and you felt like your whole body might go numb. Your eyes rolled back, your insides (all of them, it seemed) flexed, your heart was pounding… you felt sick, and disgusting, and used.

He breathed heavy as he laid his weight on top of you, slipping an arm under you to wrap around your shoulders and neck.

"Fuck, that's a tight fuckin' ass," he grunted, laughing a little as he glanced at your boyfriend, slowly beginning to move again. "This one's got you spoiled, huh? How'd a loser like you get your hands on a perfect fucktoy like this?"

He bit down on the shell of your ear as he picked up his pace quickly— way too quickly— and soon he was growling each time he slammed his hips against your ass. You couldn’t even tell what noises you were making anymore…

"But you're gonna be mine now," he whispered to you. "Oh fuck, s'all gonna be mine. Gonna fill these pretty holes of yours every fuckin' day."

You dropped your head down defeatedly onto the floor, though shocks of pain were still making your fingers and toes curl while he roughly fucked your other hole.

“Yeah, fuck, you fuckin’ like it,” he snarled as he fucked you faster. “Needy little slut. You like getting all your holes filled, huh?”

You simply bit down on your lip, not realizing it wasn't a rhetorical question.

"Answer me," he insisted.

"I-I don't like it," you said— quietly, because if you spoke any louder it would've been mostly unintelligible with sobs.

"Huh?" he taunted, leaning in closer.

"It hurts, Jackson," you choked, pleading.

“No?” he noticed, feigning shock with heavy sarcasm in his tone. “Are you saying you don’t like it up the ass?”

“Please, please,” you choked out, “fuckin’ hurts— god, please, hurts—”

"You don't like it, sweetheart?" he cooed at you, cloying condescension dripping from every word as he roughly pet the hair out of your face. You whined and shook your head. "Well, I could always put it back in your cunt, would that make you feel better?"

He chuckled at your grimace of disgust.

"Is that too dirty for you?" he wondered, clicking his tongue. "Aw, it's okay, just gonna give you what you wanted— hold still, baby."

You winced when he pulled out of your ass, only to whine as he slid back into your cunt; you hid your face, feeling how absurdly warm it had become from all this, and tried not to think about how dehumanizing what he had just done to you was.

He picked his pace right back up when he entered you, letting out a deep groan of satisfaction. "Oh my god you're fucking dripping, is that from being fucked in your little ass?" he noticed. "Jesus Christ, wettest fucking pussy I ever had... somebody likes it dirty, hm?"

You wanted to deny it, but he wasn’t lying about your physical reaction; you were soaking, and you didn’t even know why. It wasn’t like you found much pleasure in that experience physically, it was rather agonizing— and then there was the thought of it, of knowing you’d been used that way, and it just made you feel dizzy and weird. Regardless, it was true… your body responded even when your mind was running in circles convincing itself there was nothing enjoyable about this.

“Such a pretty thing,” Jackson purred at you as he sped up again, shaking your whole body against the floor— that arm around your shoulders was the only thing keeping you from being pushed away, and he held you tightly like he really was worried you’d get away somehow, even though you’d stopped resisting quite a while ago.

At least it didn’t hurt anymore— except that you were still a little sore, and he was holding you too tight and his weight made it hard to breathe, and you were probably going to get rug burn, and you felt disgusting. But in a literal sense, it hurt less.

“Think I need to turn you over and get a good look at that pretty face,” he decided, pulling out of you and rolling you onto your back. Maybe it was just because you knew it was only for a moment, but being empty wasn’t as much of a relief as you expected. You were pretty much limp by this point, letting him turn you over and simply looking up at him blankly. “Oh,” he said as he smiled proudly, “look how fucked out you look— and I’m not even done with you yet.”

Lifting your legs and pressing them against your chest, he slid back in until he was deeper than you thought possible, and you gasped and shivered helplessly. “F-fuck, wait—“

He started to fuck into you quickly, and you nearly screamed, reaching down to try to hold his thigh or push him back or something to keep him from going so far inside you, but nothing deterred him. For how drained you were a moment ago, the shock of this gave you renewed energy, and you hated feeling your walls bear down on him in sick, overwhelming pleasure. “Oh god,” he moaned, “so fucking good.”

As hard as you were trying not to be loud, your efforts were lost when he reached down and roughly rubbed at your swollen clit; again, you tried to reach to stop him, holding onto his wrist and pushing his hand away with all your strength, but he bested you easily and kept going. “Fuck!” you screamed. “Please, please— it’s too much, I—”

“It’s okay, baby,” he soothed, watching proudly as your back arched and your head tilted back with a gasp.

You hadn’t even realized you were building to an orgasm— you would’ve sworn you weren’t, before, but now you felt all sensitive and sticky, and his thumb on your clit was relentless, and the shivers that had been running all over you all evening were turning into hard, heavy jolts of— of something. Something you’d been holding back longer than you realized. Something you hadn’t felt in much, much longer than three weeks.

“It’s okay,” he kept encouraging you with a proud grin that turned into a growl through his teeth as he fucked you harder. “Show him what it looks like when you’re not faking it, babydoll. Show him who you really belong to now.”

“Please,” you cried, the word barely spoken and more just a shape you made around your cries. If he didn’t stop now, you wouldn’t be able to, either; you were spasming uncontrollably, inside and out, it was just getting worse and worse (or better and better, depending on how you looked at it).

It felt fucking good. You would die before you admitted it, but you didn’t have to— it was obvious. And it was overtaking everything now, even your shame, until for one impossible moment, you were completely shameless. You weren’t sure you had ever felt quite like that before— not just physically, but spiritually. Shameless. Even though all you’d felt until now was ashamed. “Good girl,” Jackson praised you, though it was sort of lost on you as you were coming down from a high that hit you hard enough to not even feel real until it was nearly over.

It was like time had slowed down, and then snapped back to superspeed, to hyperreality, when he finally pulled his hand away and let you have a small reprieve.

"Fuck, I'm gonna come, oh my god," he gasped, his voice getting oddly high-pitched as he said it. "Want me to come inside, babydoll, or paint that pretty face?"

“Not… not inside,” you warned, just conscious enough to remember that.

“Mm? Why not?” he smirked.

You were still blinking away the blurriness in your vision, panting, trying to process all that you’d just felt— so you really didn’t have any energy for stupid questions like that. “What?” you just asked groggily. “Why… why do you think?!”

He just laughed briefly— more like a hum— and kept going. Of course, you should’ve known he’d do it once he realized your boyfriend didn’t; but wasn’t it enough that you and your boyfriend used condoms and Jackson had already gone past that?

“Just— just don’t,” you begged again, shut up with a firm hand over your mouth suddenly as he grunted lowly above you with each thrust.

“Fuck,” he said, a sort of warning though it wasn’t specific. “Fuck!”

He bit his lip when it happened; you shut your eyes, not wanting to see his face all slack and flushed like that with his hair falling forward and his neck and jaw flexing. But closing your eyes only made the feeling inside you more undeniable: the rush of warmth, the flexing against your walls as he pushed himself in as deep as he could. You whimpered a little, though you weren’t sure it was audible to anyone but yourself, and Jackson sighed as he emptied himself into you.

He took his hand away with a deep breath, and all you did was let your mouth fall open and your eyes blink numbly— what else was there to do?

As he caught his breath, he laughed a little, very softly; he put his hands on the floor beside your head, propping himself up but letting his head hang down loosely for a second— he was still smiling.

“You’re… you’re really something else, you know that, babydoll?” he informed you.

You didn’t say anything, and he sighed again just before he pulled out— you both winced, for different reasons, and he took a moment to hold your legs open so he could look at what he’d done to you; you felt filthy and exposed like that, but you were too weak to try to stop him or even to close your legs.

“Now that’s just beautiful,” he decided in reaction to whatever he saw; you didn’t want to picture it, how stretched out and used up you must look, but you could feel his come oozing out, running down.

Some of the numbness was already wearing off, at least physically, and you were beginning to realize how purely un-ergonomic it was to get fucked on the floor. Your back and shoulders were sore, your legs were tight when you finally got to lay them down again after being held up for so long… you tried not to imagine how long you’d be feeling the effects of this, wearing bruises and feeling knots and having to know exactly where they came from.

“Come on,” he mumbled as he lifted up your limp upper body, pulling you closer to him. He held your face for a second, petting your cheek which was still a bit clammy with sweat. “Kiss me,” he demanded, though he said it somewhat softly; you didn’t actually sit up and do it for him, but you let him press his lips to yours and you tried your best to half-heartedly mirror his movements as he did it.

He held your head and neck more firmly and slid his tongue into the kiss, making you whimper a little but that was the end of your protest. You thought it was a little strange that he wanted to kiss you now, but maybe it was just a matter of claiming you in the final way since he’d pretty much covered all the others.

When he broke away, he brushed his thumb over your cheek and smiled at you sweetly.

It’s over, you told yourself, hoping to feel more relieved. It’s over, he’s finally done with you. You did it. It’s over. But as those words repeated in your mind, you only felt emptier than ever.

“Look at your boy over there,” Jackson mumbled beside your ear, a smirk on his lips as he shook you a bit with the arm around you. “You see it, don’t you? He looks different now.”

You dared to glance at your captive boyfriend, who you realized you hadn’t heard muffled protests from in quite some time. His eyes were bloodshot and swollen, but dark, too; his stare was heavy and piercing. You suddenly felt sick.

“He looks at you different now.”

You bit down on your lip as it started to shake; you felt worse than ever with him looking at you like that. Things hadn’t been perfect before he left— nothing’s ever perfect— but they were good, and easy, and now you felt like he hated you. But what had you done wrong? All you’d done was try to keep him unharmed by appeasing this awful, horrible person…

Jackson had already been speaking quietly, but he dropped his voice down to whisper as he rubbed your shoulder. “I don’t think he’ll look at you the same way ever again,” he posited, and you swallowed as your stomach dropped.

“I don’t… I don’t understand,” you whispered under your breath.

“He’s never seen you like that before,” Jackson explained, “and he understands now that he can’t do for you what I can.”

Jackson brought his hand to his own chest as he said that, but then reached up to wipe up another tear that rolled down your cheek. “Please,” you said, looking at your boyfriend though he wouldn’t meet your gaze, “don’t— don’t think that I— it’s not my fault! I didn’t want this to happen!”

“Shh, you don’t have to lie anymore,” Jackson cooed at you, “we’ve all seen the truth now, it’s alright.”

You were exhausted, you were devastated, you were too overwhelmed to even feel terrified anymore; you dropped your head onto Jackson’s shoulder defeatedly. After all you’d been through tonight, you were starting to lose track of what was real anymore.

He let you cry quietly against him for a while, petting your head, until finally breaking the silence. “Now, the thing is, there’s actually just… one more thing I need you to do for me,” he admitted, and you started to cry harder again.

“Please— please, I did everything you asked,” you sputtered out through your tears, “you took. Everything. From me.”

“Hold on, that’s not true,” he frowned, “you’ve still got your cuck boyfriend over there, even if he’s not quite what he used to be— you still love him, don’t you? Can’t help that?”

“O-of course I do,” you insisted, feeling oddly guilty as you said it.

“So, you don’t want me to hurt him?”

Even if this was the end— even if he would hold what was done to you against you, which would break your heart— you couldn’t have that on your conscience. You shook your head.

“I didn’t think so,” Jackson nodded, “you’re too sweet for that. I won’t hurt him, and I’ll let him go, if you promise to do what I ask you to.”

“What more… what more could you possibly want…” you breathed, shaking your head, trying not to imagine what else there was for him to do to you.

“Something a lot less fun than what I wanted before,” he smirked. “What I need from you now is purely work-related.”

You wrinkled your brows together with a sniffle as you began to slowly compose yourself. “Work…?”

“Let me tell you a little bit more about what I do for a living…”

#jackson rippner x reader #jackson rippner smut #jackson rippner dark fic #cillian murphy x reader #cillian murphy smut #red eye fanfic

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domjaehyun · 1 month

Text

the boy is mine (l.dh) — part four

PAIRING. haechan x fem!reader (jeno x reader as well in this part) GENRES. smut, angst WORD COUNT. 19.8k CONTENTS. infidelity, alcohol & weed consumption (MC is a non-smoker if that matters to you), explicit smut (dirty talk, fingering, finger sucking, oral (receiving), rimming (receiving), groping/frottage, marking, spit play, (brief) ear play, breast play, creampies/unprotected sex (if you explicitly need me, a stranger on the internet, to tell you not to fuck raw, you are not responsible enough to be reading this. move along now), snowballing, public sex, car sex, riding, bratty dom-leaning switch!haechan, bratty sub-leaning switch!reader, sweet dom!jeno, face riding, handjob, overstimulation (receiving), praise kink (receiving), light degradation kink (giving), mating press, morning sex) NOTES. here’s part four!! i hope you enjoy it!! please leave feedback if you liked it :) i would also greatly appreciate tips if you really liked it :3 THANK YOU LIKE THE HUUUUUGEST THANK YOU TO BRI (@jalitepng) FOR BETA READING THIS BIG OL FIC :D PLAYLIST. the boy is mine - ariana grande // fantasize - ariana grande (unreleased) // lowkey (feat. erykah badu) - teyana taylor // agora hills - doja cat // pussy is mine - miguel // softest touch - khalid // cut - tori kelly // seatbelt - josh levi // often - doja cat // surrender - nbdy

NEED TO CATCH UP? here’s a link to the fic masterlist :)

“Honestly? I think you’re fucked.” Seulgi announces plainly, and you gasp. “Casanova got you, and you’re hooked. It’s over for this friend group as we know it.”

“We—I’m not—girl, fuck you!” you huff, throwing a piece of popcorn at her.

“I’m right!”

“Your pessimistic ass can sit over there and shut up while the rest of us try to fix this.” you huff, crossing your arms.

“Babe, I don’t know if this is fixable, though.” Yunjin chimes in gently, and you frown deeply. “He clearly doesn’t want to stop any time soon and, evidently, neither do you.”

“I tried,” you croak out, and Yunjin shushes you sweetly.

“I know—”

“He wanted to talk to me in person!” you bemoan, throwing your hands up.

“Should’ve said no.” Seulgi replies with a shrug, and you glare at her.

“I did, actually.”

She shrugs again, inspecting her nails. “Should’ve meant it.”

You stare at her for a moment before slowly bringing your finger up to point at her. “Now you look here, wench.”

“Wench is outrageous.” she snorts, but you ignore her.

“I’ve had enough of your mouth!”

“And I’ve had enough of the adultery, actually, yet here we are.” she counters, and you pause, shocked. “Like how much longer are we going to hear about you and Haechan sneaking around, and how much longer am I supposed to smile in that poor girl’s face like I don’t know everything I know?”

The room is silent in the wake of Seulgi’s outburst, and you look down at your hands uncomfortably. There’s nothing to say, frankly, because she’s right.

“And Chae, I’m really shocked at you; you’re the closest person to Winter and you’re okay with all this?”

Chaewon blinks, stunned by the sudden shift in attack, and discomfort settles on her face. “This isn’t about me.”

“Yeah, she’s just being a good friend—”

“To you. Don’t we think Winter could use a good friend or two?” Seulgi stresses, and you sit up in your spot on the couch.

“Seulgi, you’re literally here. You’re here! You’re here with the cheater! The adulterer, the man-stealer, and you’re here with her enabling friends and you, up until just now, have been one of the said friends!” you counter, and Seulgi just huffs, crossing her arms in her spot. “So don’t act like you’ve been against this all along when in reality your conscience developed, like, five minutes ago.”

The air is thick with tension now after you’ve finished speaking, and it’s Seulgi’s turn to look uncomfortable.

“I just feel so bad for her.” she admits, and you sigh heavily.

“I do, too. You have no idea how hard I’ve tried to fight this. He’s just so…”

“Annoying?”

“Insistent?”

“Irritating?”

“Determined.” you settle on, rolling your eyes at your friends’ unhelpful suggestions. “He’s determined. He’s confident practically every single time he comes up to me that he’s gonna get me and, I don’t know, I guess it makes my resolve waver.”

“I feel like if you didn’t like him, this wouldn’t be an issue. It’d be a hell of a lot easier to reject the advances of a man you decidedly do not want.” Seulgi says, sounding much calmer than before, and some of the tension in the room dissipates.

“I feel like we established she likes him, like, the night before she tried to end things.” Chaewon chimes in, and you immediately exclaim in protest.

“I never said that!”

“You didn’t have to.” Yunjin interjects, looking at you with a “duh” expression. “It was obvious.”

“To everyone but me, I guess.” you mutter petulantly, and your imminent sulking session is interrupted when all of your phones go off around the same time, and you all look at each other in confusion. You reach for your phone and open it, reading the notification. “Speak of the devil.” you chuckle as your friends open their phones to see Haechan’s message to the group chat.

haechan [20:09] guys my job gave me a voucher for a free wine tasting and i can bring friends 😎 who wants to go with me tomorrow?

“Oh, a wine tasting sounds fun,” Chaewon says, intrigued, and you purse your lips in thought.

“I don’t know if we should get two secret lovers in the same friend group tipsy at the same time.” Seulgi says slowly, and you frown at her.

“It’s a couple glasses of wine,” you explain with a roll of your eyes, “not twelve shots of Casamigos.”

Your phones go off again, and you all read the new reply.

winter [20:12] ooh that sounds fun! i’m down after work :)

“Well…we could leave it as a date for them?” Yunjin tries hopefully, looking around at you all.

jeno [20:14] sure i’m in

mark [20:15] me too

[chenle liked “me too”]

chenle [22:17] what car is gonna take all our tipsy asses home?

“Well, so much for that.” Yunjin sighs in defeat.

seulgi [22:18] there are uber xls that can fit 9 passengers :)

“Seulgi, you’re not helping!” Yunjin scolds, and she frowns up at you all.

“I supplied key and relevant information. I helped.” she replies stubbornly. “Plus, I like wine.”

chaewon [22:20] i’m excited :p

“So, we’re not even consulting each other anymore?” you remark incredulously, narrowing your eyes at Chaewon, who sticks her tongue out at you. “Fine.”

you [22:23] yeah yeah yeah drank in my cup or whatever kirko bangz said

you [22:23] what time are we thinking of going?

haechan [22:24] we’ll all be done with work by 6:00, right? why not meet up somewhere and take an uber to get there by 6:30? it’s a little out of the way but it’s good stuff trust me

yunjin [22:26] sounds good to me. can we meet up at your place, haechan?

chenle [22:27] excuse me i live there too

chenle [22:27] MY NAME IS ON THE LEASE AGREEMENT

yunjin [22:29] who are you yelling at? 😒

chenle [22:29] ………………………..no one 😞

[yunjin liked “………………………..no one 😞”]

“Okay, well, now that’s happening.” you mutter, locking your phone.

“You really can’t catch a break, huh?” Yunjin laughs, but it sounds a bit sad, her brows furrowed sympathetically.

“Apparently not.” you mumble defeatedly, drumming your fingers on your knee. Your phone goes off again, and you look around, but apparently it’s just yours this time and, after checking it, you sigh softly.

haechan [22:32] can’t wait to see you tomorrow 💖

“Definitely not, actually.” you say to yourself.

The vineyard itself is beautiful, the beautiful, sunny spring day only enhancing its majesty, and it’s all you can do not to marvel openly at the wooden yet elegant architecture and the seemingly endless rows of wine grapes to be harvested.

”You’re gonna catch flies if you keep your mouth open like that.” Haechan murmurs playfully as you all follow the hostess to your table.

“Oh, hush,” you huff, but you close your mouth nonetheless. You reach your table, which is long, wooden, and oval-shaped, and all of you move to sit, with you ending up between Mark and, unsurprisingly, Haechan.

The hostess passes out a leaflet to each of you and explains, “Our wine tasting is a bit more interactive than most; you can make selections on the leaflet of which wines you’d like to try for which rounds, and the notes of each wine is listed below for your consideration. We’ll give you all a moment to make your selections and one of our servers will come back and collect them so we can get started.”

As you fill out your leaflet, you can’t help but feel Haechan’s nosy eyes peering over your shoulder at your choices.

”This isn’t a test, Haechan, you don’t need to copy me.” you snicker, and he just sticks his tongue out at you and continues to observe you, making you increasingly more unsettled and ready to snap by the minute. It’s when Haechan makes a disapproving hum at your next selection that you set your pen down and turn to face him.

”Can I help you, Judgy Pants?” you ask, and he offers a small secretive smile in return.

”Do you trust me?” he asks, and you pause.

”Not particularly.” you say slowly, and he winces. “Why?”

“First of all, ouch.” he complains, placing a hand over his chest like he’s been wounded, and you giggle. “Second of all, we’re at a wine tasting and wine is literally my job and field of expertise, so… do you trust me to pick your wines for you?”

Your brows furrow slightly before you say, “I mean, I haven’t told you anything about what I like and don’t like in wine.”

”So?” he asks, shrugging.

”So,” you continue, rolling your eyes, “how would you have any idea what I’d like?”

It’s apparently Haechan’s turn to roll his eyes as he regards you, murmuring, “You think that with all the time I spend focused—no, fixated—on you, I would have absolutely no idea of what you might like to drink?”

You balk at his plain, unashamed admission and feel warmth starting to bloom in your cheeks. “Okay,” you finally agree. “Well, in that case, go for it.”

You move to pass him your leaflet, but he just leans over, bogarting your personal space, and remains unreasonably close as he circles the wines he thinks you’ll like. Whether he notices the way you inhale sharply and stiffen in place or not, he doesn’t comment, seemingly focused on filling out your leaflet.

The server arrives shortly after to collect all of your leaflets and leaves once more to bring out your first round of wines, returning a couple of moments later with two trays of drinks which she gingerly sets down in the center of your table before passing out each wine glass individually.

As you bring your glass to your lips, Haechan watches intently, brows raised in anticipation. The wine is delicious—it’s sweet and bubbly and fruity and you smile subconsciously, unknowingly provoking a relieved and satisfied grin from Haechan.

“It’s good, isn’t it?” he asks knowingly, and you nod excitedly, sipping eagerly at the glass again but slowly enough that you can still savor it.

“That really was so good,” you hum, content as you finish the last of your glass and set it down earlier than everyone—except for Mark, who set his down on the table moments earlier after chugging the half-filled glass like it was a red Solo cup of jungle juice.

”Mark, you know you’re supposed to sip it, right?” you ask with a small laugh, and Mark grins sheepishly.

“My bad,” he chuckles.

Gradually, the rest of your friends finish their first drink, and the server comes around to collect your glasses.

”How was your first round?” she asks hopefully, and your voices all overlap as you tell her how good it was. “That’s great to hear! I’ll be right back with your second round, and feel free to let me know if you need any water or anything like that.”

When she leaves, Haechan turns to face you with a wide, proud grin. “Did I do a good job or what?”

“You did,” you confirm. Haechan takes an almost unnoticeable deep breath, a preparatory one as if he’s about to cheer or get loud in some other manner, and you continue on quickly before he gets the chance. “I just hope the next ones are good, too.”

“They’ll be even better,” Haechan assures you confidently, and you hum skeptically.

“We’ll have to see about that.”

The next wine, like Haechan predicted, is even better than the first. It’s slightly drier, with an aftertaste of raspberry, and you find yourself wishing you hadn’t finished it so quickly.

”Don’t look so smug,” you laugh as he smiles at you, radiating self-satisfaction from his proud, puffed-out chest.

“Can’t help it,” he replies confidently. “I love being good at my job.”

“Man, next time we should go to a beer tasting,” Jeno pipes up, and you wrinkle your nose in distaste.

“You know, I’ve always thought beer tasted like pee.” you remark thoughtfully, and Jeno snorts in amusement.

“I’ve never tasted pee to know for sure.” he replies, and you frown deeply.

“Well, of course I haven’t tasted pee! But you know how sometimes smells get stuck in the back of your throat and you can kinda taste it? When I taste beer, it makes me think of pee.” you defend yourself, and Haechan nods from beside you.

“It does taste funny.” he echoes, and you smile, feeling vindicated.

“See? It’s not just me.” you add on, and Jeno chuckles.

“Maybe you haven’t had the right beer yet,” he suggests, and you shrug.

“I guess I haven’t.” you agree slowly. “I do know that these wines are crazy good.”

“Did you just have the one with raspberry notes?” Chaewon asks curiously, and you nod eagerly.

“Isn’t it so good?!” you exclaim excitedly, and Haechan laughs from beside you.

“It’s delicious,” she confirms happily. “Matter of fact—where’d she go?”

As Chaewon starts attempting to flag down your hostess for another glass of the wine, you look over at Haechan, who’s already looking at you with a fond expression on his face.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” you giggle, and he sits forward to murmur in your ear.

“You’re cute when you’re tipsy.” When you suck your teeth at him dismissively in response, he reaches to clutch your leg under the table, making you stiffen in place. “Such a mouth on you,” he muses thoughtfully. “I’m so nice to you, and you’re mean to me like this?” His pout is audible in his voice, as is his amusement.

You can’t help but giggle at his playful tone, but you do manage to reply with, “I’m not mean! And I’m not tipsy!”

“Oh, yeah?” he challenges softly, his fingers stroking your inner thigh with a slow furling and unfurling of his fingers. “Prove it.”

“Which part?”

“Both. Be nice to me and do a sobriety test.” he replies, and you snort far too loudly to be discreet.

“Shush, Haechan. Chae, look, the hostess is coming back!” you direct your friend’s attention to your approaching hostess, who smiles when she makes eye contact with you. “I barely feel anything,” you whisper to Haechan, who gently pinches your inner thigh in lieu of a verbal response.

“You will in a bit.” he replies confidently, and you glower in his direction.

“Whatever.”

You’re on your fourth cup of wine, all of them having tasted dangerously like juice, and you can’t lie, you’re starting to feel it.

You’re gigglier than usual, more playful, and Haechan picks up on it with a keen raise of his brows. You look at Haechan’s cup longingly after you finish yours, and he shakes his head.

”You’re not gonna like it.”

“Lemme try it and see for myself,” you insist, and he chuckles fondly, shaking his head in amusement before shrugging in defeat and passing you the cup, your fingers curling around the cup and over his hand.

“Anyone ever tell you you’re a little hard-headed?” he asks lightheartedly, and you pause to think.

“Yes. And stubborn, and defiant.” you recall, and he lets out a low whistle.

“What about a brat, huh? Anyone ever call you that?” he asks with raised brows and you narrow your eyes.

“Besides you? No, actually.”

“Aw,” Haechan coos fondly. “I was your first.”

“Let’s not make it weird,” you warn him, and he wiggles his eyebrows flirtatiously.

“Let’s actually make it super weird,” he proposes with a suggestive grin, and you step on his foot under the table. “Ow!”

“Hush so I can focus on this wine.” you scold him, just now realizing he never let go of the glass and you two have essentially been holding hands this whole time. It’s not the realization that makes you feel butterflies, it’s the subsequent realization that you like it.

You don’t know if the wine is starting to think for you, but you genuinely want to hold Haechan’s hand for just a moment longer.

“Then focus,” Haechan says, gesturing with his free hand for you to try the drink in your hand.

You take a tentative sniff first, suppose the drink smells sweet enough, and take a careful sip, immediately wrinkling your nose at the too fizzy, too bitter taste spreading across your tastebuds. You thrust the glass back into Haechan’s proximity with a grimace as he laughs, but you don’t let go of it yet, still trying to steal more intimate moments with him with your hand enveloping his.

“Man, that was a lot.” you say with a frown. Haechan shrugs as if to say, “I told you so!”

“I knew you weren’t going to like it.” he reminds you, and you roll your eyes.

“I don’t get how you like it.” you say with an accusing tone, and he snorts in amusement.

“I like it bitter and sharp sometimes,” he explains. “I like how… invigorating it feels.”

“Blech,” you gag, and he narrows his eyes at you playfully before bringing the glass to his lips for a sip, your arm gently being tugged along as he switches the positioning of your hands so his is outside of yours. He grants you mercy for a moment, breaking eye contact to watch as he turns his cup this way and that.

Before you can ask what he’s looking for, you both spot it at the same time—your lip gloss mark left on the rim of the wine glass, and you watch, mesmerized, as he deliberately places his lips exactly over your lip gloss stain and takes a long sip.

You think you might actually melt into the floor at the rate that your body is heating up with a fiery blend of embarrassment, bashfulness, and—to be honest—desire.

If the indirect kiss wasn’t enough, when he pulls his lips from the glass, he shifts your joined grip on the glass so subtly you almost miss it, and presses a flirtatious, lingering kiss to your hand just between your second and third knuckles, dropping one eyelid into a small wink for good measure.

Your breath catches in your throat, and now you think you actually would like to melt into the floor—anything to escape the so-consuming-it’s-almost-overwhelming experience that is having Haechan’s undivided attention.

As if he could read minds, Haechan’s eyes light up in realization, and you practically feel your heart drop.

“Are you getting shy right now?” he asks curiously.

“No?” you reply immediately, your heart starting to thud harder in your chest as his eyes twinkle with mischief and satisfaction.

“You answered that way too quickly.” Haechan points out, his smile widening into a wolfish grin. “Am I making you shy, baby?” His voice is soft and low, teasing and suggestive, and you frown deeply. “You know, you’re very cute when you’re shy.”

He’s got his eyes trained unwaveringly on you and you keep looking at him and away, your gaze darting all around in a desperate attempt to save yourself from this interaction.

“I’m not shy,” you mumble, your body betraying you as you shift uncomfortably under his gaze.

“Oh, yeah? If you’re not shy, then look me in the eyes.” Haechan challenges quietly, and you, after a moment (too long) and with poorly concealed difficulty, comply, staring him squarely in the eyes.

“See? I’m unaffected by… whatever it is you’re doing,” you lie, confusion blooming when he breaks out into a radiant, teasing toothy grin.

“I’m not doing anything, baby.” His eyes twinkle, his smile dazzles, and for a moment you wonder if he could blind you with how radiant his aura is. Leaning in closer, he licks his lips, flicks his gaze down to your lap and back up to your face, and continues, “I think you just like me.”

It takes absolutely every nerve in your body not to react with the indignant splutter you have locked and loaded for him, instead choosing to stay silent and look confused so as not to draw attention to you two.

For a moment, you wonder how no one’s noticed you two, but when you scan your friends’ tipsy, dopey smiles and glazed over eyes as they all seem to have split off into smaller conversations, you realize they’re juggling numerous distractions, leaving you and Haechan free to do… whatever this is.

“You’re silly.” you counter him with a dismissive roll of your eyes, and Haechan raises his eyebrow in a silent challenge.

“And you’re still holding my hand.”

You look down with a jolt and realize that, yes, you most certainly are still holding Haechan’s hand and have been holding it for approximately… too long to play off as nothing.

“I didn’t even realize,” you marvel quietly, and he nods with an understanding expression that borders on smug.

“I just make you that comfortable, huh? You like me that much, huh?” he teases, and you grouch and grumble under your breath, snatching your hand from his (and regretting it instantly).

”I’m going to the bathroom.” you announce, standing from the table without warning and wobbling slightly as you try to catch your balance.

Haechan and Mark both steady you with Mark’s cautious hand on your side and Haechan’s secure grip on your hip.

“Thank you,” you say sincerely.

“Wait, I’m coming,” Yunjin pipes up, seemingly appearing out of nowhere from your left. She was not a part of the scan you did on your friends because one look at her and you’re on edge all over again, because she looks very much like she has her wits about her, like she’s barely had a glass of wine, and, most importantly as indicated by the keen glint in her eye, like she has something important to say to you. She makes her way over to your side of the table, looping her arm with yours and guiding you towards the hanging sign indicating the location of the bathrooms.

The bathroom door has barely shut before Yunjin turns to look at you with her shrewd gaze.

You can’t help but feel small under her stare. “Yes?”

“Girlypop, you look like you’re in love with him. Like I truly hate to break it to you, but you look smitten.”

“I am not!” you splutter indignantly, and she raises her eyebrows skeptically.

“You couldn’t even make eye contact with him earlier.” she points out simply, and you balk.

“You saw that?” you squeak pathetically, and she nods. “Ugh, okay, maybe I am a little smitten.”

She snorts. “Maybe?”

“Shush,” you huff. “What am I gonna do?” you wail, and it’s her turn to shush you, cupping your face in her hands.

“It’s okay, bunny bee. We’re gonna figure this out,” she assures you, and you nod lamely. “In the meantime, try to keep your distance.”

You nod in agreement and she smiles comfortingly, linking arms with you once more and leading you both back to the table. When you approach, Yunjin slips in front of you and takes your old seat, much to Haechan’s surprise, and you follow suit, sitting in her previous spot between Chaewon and Chenle.

Haechan is clearly not over your last conversation, the male sitting across from you making eyes at you as if daring you to look back at him. Your gazes connect several times, each time leaving him more triumphant than before and leaving you infinitely closer to unraveling entirely and dissolving into what would be, frankly, an embarrassing fit of girlish giggles.

The rest of the wine tasting goes by without any incident, Haechan’s wine selections for you making for a very palatable round of drinks, and a couple of you even take home a bottle of your favorite one, thanking the staff and bidding them goodbye as you wait for your Uber home to arrive.

When it arrives, you all start filing in without any rhyme or reason, the nine of you throwing strategy to the wind as you enter the Kia Carnival and settle down. It takes a couple of moments for you to realize as the seats fill up that, firstly, the seats next to you are still empty and, secondly, that Haechan is not yet in the car.

At what feels like the very last moment, Haechan slips into the seat beside you, the side of his leg pressed up against yours as you all get situated.

As your driver pulls off and easy conversation starts among you all, you can barely focus on anything other than Haechan—how warm he feels beside you, how good he smells, how comforting and exciting his mere presence is, and it hits you in the moment just how much you really like him as you stare wordlessly down at your lap.

The realization is practically staggering, your world feeling like it’s falling apart at the seams all because you can’t keep yourself away from your friend’s boyfriend. It was easier when you thought it was just sexual, to be honest, but ever since that day at the museum and the way he looked at you—you think you might have been a goner from the beginning.

You feel doomed. You feel doomed, and stuck, and frustrated, and deeply overwhelmed, and you don’t know how to fix the absolute shit show you’ve gotten yourself into.

You don’t even realize you’re crying until a tear falls onto your hand, and you blink in surprise before wiping the tear on your leg and quickly swiping the next one from your eye before it can drop as subtly as possible.

Unfortunately, Haechan notices your small gesture and looks over at you, growing concern written plainly on his face.

He opens his mouth to speak but closes it after a vehement shake of your head. He frowns, worry all over his handsome features as your bottom lip threatens to tremble with the weight of your unshed tears.

He pulls out his phone and types something into an empty note in his Notes app before tilting his screen so you can see.

What’s wrong?

You shake your head dismissively, trying even harder now not to cry from the gentle concern he’s showing you. He types something else and turns it to show you again.

Can I help at all?

You shake your head again, a small sniffle slipping out despite your best efforts to hold it back, and alarm takes over his face before he frowns deeply and locks his phone, setting it back on his lap and drumming his fingers on his knee anxiously.

You don’t expect him to persist in trying to comfort you, so it comes as even more of a shock when he slips his hand between your bodies and turns it up in a silent offering.

You pause for a moment before slowly linking your fingers with his and hoping he can’t feel the way your hand trembles.

He curls his fingers around yours in a warm, reassuring gesture, and it takes everything in you not to burst into tears at the whole situation—his kindness, his loveliness, your growing affections for him, and your immense guilt about coming in the middle of his and Winter’s relationship.

All you can do at the moment is sit silently until the Uber drops off you and Yunjin, at which point you plan to fall into her arms weeping—or something like that. Until you can do that, however, you’re stuck in this car secretly holding hands with Haechan, who, to his credit, doesn’t let go of your hand not once.

It’s not until you have to exit the car that he finally releases you with a reassuring squeeze, and as you and Yunjin make your way to your apartment, you can’t shake the feeling that you wish he hadn’t.

As you get ready for bed, you think about your dilemma for what feels like ages, pondering how this could have happened to you, when it hits you—you really were doomed from the beginning.

The night you two met, there were unmistakable sparks, and, at the time, it was the closest you’d come to feeling truly connected to someone. You hate to say it, but you wish he and Winter never dated so you could have him without feeling guilty. No matter how hard you tried to fight it, the chemistry was undeniable.

If everything happens for a reason, what on Earth could be the reason for this?

It’s not until you get into your bed and are rubbing your legs together, not unlike a cricket, to get comfortable that you realize that the only lesson the universe could possibly be teaching you is that you only live once. You’ve ruled out the lesson being restraint and self-control because, frankly, your whole life has been a testament to denying yourself various pleasures, and maybe Haechan was right that first night; maybe some risks are worth the reward.

Finally drifting off to sleep, you feel a bit more at ease with your decision. You’ve spent your whole life being good; maybe it’s time to be a little selfish and have fun with Haechan for as long as you can before… well, you don’t particularly know what will happen, but for one of the first times, you’re willing to find out.

As you walk down the hallway to Mark’s and Jeno’s apartment, the music grows louder and louder and you can’t help but feel bad for their neighbors as the party only really just kicked off at 11:00pm.

Seconds after you knock, the door opens and some guy you only vaguely recognize ushers you in with a weirdly focused stare and unnerving grin.

“Who put rando in charge of party entry?” you mumble as you, Yunjin, and Chaewon link arms and start to make your way to the kitchen to get refreshments and hopefully some quiet to gather your thoughts.

As Chaewon raids the fridge, you root through the cabinet until you find the pack of Capri Suns you’re looking for, fishing out two and handing one to Yunjin.

“Score,” Chaewon whispers, eyes lighting up when she pulls a Sunny-D drink from the fridge.

“Your obsession with our childhood drinks must be studied.” Yunjin chuckles, sipping from the Capri Sun you gave her before downing two of the nips of Tito’s she brought with her.

“It helps heal my inner child,” she huffs defensively, taking a large gulp and sighing contently.

“Does the healing come before or after the Casamigos?” you ask wryly, and her eyes narrow in your direction. “Just curious!”

“You guys made it!” Mark cheers, startling the three of you as he enters the kitchen. “We were worried you two got too high to leave the house.” he explains, gesturing at Yunjin and Chaewon, who splutter defensively.

“We did not!” they insist, but Mark looks at you for the truth.

“They didn’t!” you defend them, and they nod proudly.

(You catch Mark’s eye privately and nod in confirmation. “They did.” you mouth. “But I saved us.”

“I know.” Mark agrees silently. “Thank you,” he says sincerely, and you giggle quietly.)

“Are you guys having a good time so far? Have you been here long?” Mark asks, and you shoot him a thumbs up.

“No, we just got here, actually.” you explain, your phone distracting you by buzzing in your back pocket. You pull it out to check it, a secretive smile making its way onto your lips when you read the name on the message notification.

haechan [22:08] hey you here yet?

You look up from your phone to Mark’s scrutinizing gaze, making you frown and shake your head to dismiss him.

“It’s nothing.” you assure him, and he narrows his eyes for a moment before relenting and focusing his attention on Chaewon, who’s gone on another search through their fridge, this time for snacks.

you [22:10] yeah in the kitchen w mark yunjin n chae

His reply is instant.

haechan [22:10] bet

Excitement builds, a slow drum crescendo in your stomach as you anticipate seeing Haechan; what he might be wearing, how his hair is styled, his scent, and the way his voice lilts when he talks to you specifically—

“Hello?” Mark snickers, waving a hand in your face to get your attention. You snap out of your reverie and Mark rolls his eyes but smiles fondly. “Welcome back. You sure you didn’t take a hit, too?”

“Positive.” you snort, and he lifts his hands in surrender.

“Could’ve fooled me.”

“Yeah, well—wait.” you cut yourself off mid-retort, looking around the room. “Where’d Yunjin go?”

“She probably went to go find everyone else,” Chaewon pipes up, now snacking on edible cookie dough and leaning into your side.

“True. Let’s go find her,” Mark offers, and you agree instantly, leaving the kitchen in a single file line with your hand wrapped around Chaewon’s.

To no one’s surprise, as soon as you leave the peace and quiet of the kitchen, you three are separated almost instantly, leaving you alone in the middle of the packed living room and your friends scattered amongst the crowd.

As you walk by a group of people in search of your friends, an arm loops around your waist and pulls you into their body. You don’t even flinch, already recognizing the person’s embrace as you curl into Haechan’s chest and smile up at him.

“Hi, handsome.” you coo, and he grins, running his free hand through his hair casually.

“Hey, baby. You look amazing,” he compliments, and your cheeks warm. “I went to the kitchen a minute ago to find you, but you weren’t there.” he says with a devastatingly attractive pout.

“I was trying to track down where Yunjin went! Then when we left the kitchen, I lost Chaewon and Mark, too.” you reply with a frown of your own.

“I just saw Yunjin by the balcony talking to some dude.” Haechan says, jabbing a thumb over his shoulder in her general direction. “She seems okay.”

“Okay,” you say, letting out a relieved sigh.

“How are you, though?” Haechan asks with a hint of worry, and you remember the way you left things with him after crying in the cab home from the wine tasting. “What was wrong the other night?”

“Oh, um. It was nothing, actually. I was thinking about a really, uh, sad video I saw the other day and it got to me again.” you explain hesitantly, and Haechan lifts one eyebrow skeptically.

“Oh, really?” he challenges, and you narrow your eyes at him.

“Yes, really.” you counter, and you two stare at each other with loaded gazes before he breaks it, raising his hands in surrender.

“Fine, I’ll drop it.” he relents, and you smile triumphantly. “But, baby, do me a favor,” Haechan continues, looking around behind you, and you tilt your head to the side curiously.

“What is it?”

“Ignore Jeno tonight.” he states, and you raise an eyebrow in disbelief.

“You’re kidding, right?” you say flatly, and he shakes his head. “Okay, so you’re gonna flirt with me all night, right? And ignore Winter?”

“Well, you know I can’t do that,” he replies slowly.

You most definitely did know that, and his answer only helps to prove your point. So why do his words feel like a bucket of ice cold water being poured on your head?

You attempt to shake it off internally, so you just nod slowly to his words, waiting for him to catch on.

“So it’s fair that you get to play around all night, but I get nothing?” you huff, pulling back from him slightly, and his grip tightens around your waist. “Yeah, no.”

“No?” he echoes, furrowing his brows in surprise and confusion.

“No.” you confirm, looking up at him. “I’m gonna flirt with Jeno.”

“You’re gonna flirt with him.” Haechan echoes flatly in disbelief, and you nod, patting his chest. “That’s even worse. I don’t want to share you with him.”

“Wh–and you think I want to share you with her?” you whisper heatedly, and he shoots you a warning look.

“That’s not the same.”

“Bullshit.” you retort, and he groans under his breath. “As a matter of fact,” you say, extracting yourself from his embrace, “let me go enjoy my night.”

“Are you mad at me?” Haechan asks, incredulous, and you look back at him like he’s stupid.

“Guess.” you reply shortly before turning on your heel and venturing further into the party and farther away from Haechan.

“You know…” you sigh, leaning against the wall, “I haven’t seen Jeno all night.”

Seulgi shoots you a funny look. “Didn’t you just get here, like, thirty minutes ago?”

You glower back at her. “Well, yes, but it’s his place. Why is he not running out and about and amok in the living room for my viewing pleasure?”

“Since when have you looked away from Haechan long enough to notice Jeno was missing?” Seulgi questions, regarding you carefully. At your expression, she raises her eyebrows. “Trouble in paradise?”

“No,” you quip back shortly.

“Doesn’t seem like it.” she says with a shrug, and you sigh loudly.

“Well…”

“What is it?” she presses gently, and you frown.

“Haechan told me not to talk to Jeno tonight.” you explain, and her brows shoot up in surprise.

“Did he say why?”

“I feel like we both know why. The jealousy was implied.” you sniff, turning your nose up.

“He’s got some nerve.” she chuckles in surprise, and you nod vigorously.

“He’s got some fucking nerve, right?!” you agree, and she rubs your back comfortingly.

“So what did you say?” she asks, and you balk.

“Well, I pointed out the double standard.” you say slowly.

Seulgi arches an eyebrow. “What did you say?”

“...I said he should ignore Winter, then.” you mutter quietly, and she shoots you an incredulous glare. “It was to point out that he can’t ask me to do something like that!”

“Yeah, okay, but what if he was like ‘bet,’ and ignored Winter all night in favor of you? Well—” Seulgi looks off into the distance for a brief moment in contemplation.

“Shut up.” You already know where she’s going with this.

“It wouldn’t be the first time.”

“Shut up!”

“I’m right!”

“He wouldn’t do that.”

“He literally has.” Seulgi reminds you.

“He didn’t do it today.” you counter with a stubborn frown.

“Well, maybe we should stop focusing on what he didn’t do and worry about what you’re going to do.” she supplies helpfully.

You nod slowly. “You’re right.”

“I know.” She leans back against the wall, pleased with herself.

“Wow, and so humble, too.” you drawl, and she giggles.

“I’m gonna… flirt with Jeno, for starters.”

“Maybe he can help take your mind off of Haechan!” she suggests, and you nod slowly, the nod becoming more pronounced as your conviction grows stronger.

“You’re so right.”

“I know,” Seulgi replies, again, to your mild irritation and amusement. “It’s one of my many charms.”

“Can you stop stroking your own ego for twelve minutes?” you chuckle with a roll of your eyes, and she pauses thoughtfully.

“Hey, Siri?” she calls out, pulling her phone from her back pocket.

“Uh-huh?” her phone replies.

“Set a timer for twelve minutes.”

“You’ve got to be joking.” you snort, and she shakes her head.

“Your timer is set for twelve minutes.” Siri responds, and Seulgi locks her phone and places it back in her pocket.

“You’re not gonna thank her?” you ask, confused.

Seulgi shoots you another funny look. “She’s not real.”

“She’s real to me. And if the robots and technology ever revolt, don’t you want to be known as a human with manners? Maybe they’d spare you!”

Giving you a long, blank stare, Seulgi shakes her head and sighs. “I don’t know what goes on in your head sometimes.”

After Seulgi leaves to go take a hit on the terrace, you head down the hallway towards the kitchen for snacks, stopping shortly when you see a familiar figure sitting on the floor against the wall, knees tucked to her chest and resting her forehead against her knees.

“Winter?” you ask curiously, stepping closer. “Are you alright?”

She looks up at you with a bleary-eyed, weak smile. “Hey.”

“Hey…” you say carefully, trying to evaluate the situation and figure out what’s wrong. Did Haechan break up with her or something? Pushing aside the sick rush of excitement you felt after thinking that, you continue with, “Winter, are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” she mumbles tiredly, rubbing her temples. “I just have a raging headache.”

“Oh, no,” you hum, worried. “You want some painkillers? It’s ibuprofen, 600 milligrams. I use them for cramps and they work like a charm!”

“Yes, please, actually.” she agrees with relief written all over her face.

“Okay, come with me.” you say, gently taking her hand to help her to her feet. You let her lean on you slightly as you make your way to the kitchen to get her something to drink. “You know you have to eat something, too, right? You shouldn’t take it on an empty stomach.”

“Okay,” she sighs weakly.

“Here, sit right here.” you guide her to a chair by the kitchen island and set about finding her a suitable snack. You give up on the junk food and decide to raid their fridge, finding just enough ingredients to make her a turkey, lettuce, and cheese sandwich. “You want mayonnaise on your sandwich?”

“Mm, no, thank you,” she says weakly, resting her head on the countertop. “It’s so much quieter in here.”

“Yeah, I can’t imagine the booming bass being good for your headache.” you reply sympathetically, and she shakes her head gingerly.

“The music caused it,” she explains. “Sometimes I really hate parties.”

“Really?” you reply, slightly shocked, but then you pause to really think about it and realize she’s right; she rarely suggests going to parties, merely just tagging along when you all decide to go to one.

“Yeah, I prefer just relaxing at home, but I go because all of you guys go and Haechan…”

Your ears perk up. “Haechan…?”

“Haechan loves parties and hanging out. It’s so funny that he loves going out so much, but he always stays in with me when I ask him to. He’s so sweet.”

You think back to the tight-lipped smile he gave Winter when she asked him to take her home the evening you guys went to the museum, and wince internally. If he’s staying home, it’s definitely not by choice.

“You guys have fun together, huh?” you say bleakly, and she nods with a small smile.

“He’s so funny and I love laughing at how silly he is.” she gushes, and you set the plate with her sandwich down on the table, her head perking up. “Sometimes I wonder how we work so well in spite of our differences. Maybe it’s the ‘opposites attract’ phenomenon.”

“Well, what else is there? He’s a party animal and you’re a homebody.” you say, curious.

“He’s such a free spirit, and I’m… more grounded, I think. I think I keep his head from going too far in the clouds, y’know?” she says quietly around a mouthful of sandwich.

“I see, I see.” This is downright painful to hear for you, honestly, but you’re not sure if it hurts more that she has him and you don’t or that Winter’s oblivious to their incompatibility.

“And he’s more of a night owl, but I like waking up early, but he still wakes up early just to hang out with me,” she sighs dreamily, eyes focused on her sandwich and therefore completely missing the disbelieving look you shoot her way.

“So if he goes to bed late at night, and wakes up early to be with you… when does he get to rest?” you ask carefully, and Winter screws up her face thoughtfully.

“Huh. I never really thought about it like that.”

Of course you didn’t. Because you think of Haechan as some sort of prop or accessory you can equip whenever you feel like it. He’s a living, breathing human being that might not want to wake up early every time you feel like it.

You don’t say any of that, though.

“Yeah,” you say quietly. Not wanting to ruin the atmosphere, you continue with, “I mean, if those are all the differences you have, you guys could be pretty okay!”

“Well, then there’s the affection thing.” she says slowly, and you nod, already knowing where she’s going.

“If he’s too affectionate, like in public and stuff, you can try talking to him about it!” you suggest helpfully, but Winter looks at you in confusion.

“Too affectionate? Girl, he doesn’t even like holding my hand in public.” she chuckles hollowly, and you blink, stunned.

So you definitely did not know where she was going with her earlier statement.

“He’s… not… affectionate with you?” you ask slowly and carefully, and she shakes her head.

“He says PDA makes him feel weird.” she says with a shrug, and you blink at her again, baffled.

Nothing about that man gives “not affectionate” when he’s with you. As a matter of fact, you’re usually drowning in his affection, so for Winter to say he’s distant with her makes you feel… guilty?

“Oh,” you mumble quietly, and that’s all you can really say for the moment.

Winter, oblivious yet again to her emotional surroundings, sets down the crusts of the sandwich you prepared for her and sighs in relief. “I feel a little better already, actually!”

“That’s great!” you say, eager to change the topic. “Do you still want painkillers?”

“Yes, please.” she replies immediately, reaching her hand out. You fish out your little prescription bottle of painkillers and shake one into her hand, placing a glass of water on the table beside her plate. “You’re the best,” she compliments, relieved, and you shake your head to yourself in silent disagreement, the gesture unnoticed by Winter.

If only she knew.

Walking through the party, you soon run into the very person Haechan asked you to ignore tonight. You smile up at Jeno, who grins and pulls you closer to him as you two start to move to the beat of the song coming through the speakers.

Your hips sway together rhythmically and Jeno leans down to your ear, murmuring, “I was hoping I’d run into you.”

“Oh, yeah? Why is that?” you hum curiously, resting your forearms on his chest and peering up at him.

“I always hope to see you,” he defends himself, and you raise an eyebrow skeptically.

“And we’re sure this has everything to do with that and nothing to do with you wanting me to see you tonight in your slutty little crop top?” you tease, and his cheeks redden as he shoots a bashful grin down to the floor.

“It’s not slutty!” he splutters defensively despite his laughter, and you shoot him an unimpressed blank stare.

“It’s a slutty, slutty top, Jeno,” you confirm, trailing one finger down from the space between his collarbones to where his stomach is revealed. “I didn’t even know you got down like that,” you confess, and his ears blush to match his cheeks.

“I don’t!” he squawks indignantly.

“Aw, man,” you sigh, feigning disappointment. “That’s a shame.”

Jeno regards you carefully. “Why is that?”

“I was just gonna ask you how slutty you can get.” you murmur softly, looking up at him with a growing mischievous grin.

“Well, in that case,” he replies with a matching smile, “I can get pretty slutty.”

”Mm, yeah?” you muse, draping your arms around his neck and pulling him closer to you. “Show me.”

As if he was waiting for the cue, he leans in and teases your lips apart with gentle grazes of his own, waiting until you’re at peak anticipation before surging forward and connecting your lips with a soft sigh of relief.

His lips move against yours eagerly, poorly restrained excitement practically vibrating through his body as he winds his arms around your lower back and draws you in closer, his warm, musky fragrance enveloping you.

He presses kiss after kiss to your lips, obliging every time you chase after his lips for another one with a small fond chuckle and a quiet, content grunt. Jeno pulls back from the liplock with an air of reluctance, scanning your expression for a wordless confirmation before looking towards the back of the apartment.

“Do you want to go somewhere quieter?” Jeno offers, and you smile and nod, linking your fingers with his as he starts to lead you further into the apartment and farther away from the din of the party surrounding you.

Leading you into the bathroom of his apartment, he shuts the door behind him and presses you up against it before kissing you again.

“You literally live here,” you giggle into the kiss. “Why are we in your bathroom and not your bedroom?”

“Long story short, Mark wants to get laid and his room is a mess, so he’s using mine.” Jeno explains, and you chuckle, nodding in understanding.

“You’re a good friend,” you say fondly, and he grins.

“I am?” he asks, and you nod, gasping when his hand slides down your front to between your thighs. “Yeah, I guess I am,” he says, his smile turning wolfish as he leans in closer, effectively pinning you against the wall as he kisses you deeply, teasing peeks and slips of his tongue into your mouth making you dizzy.

This time, when you pull back, it’s Jeno who chases your lips and captures them in another breath-stealing kiss. Every time you break the kiss to breathe, he’s on you a second later, barely giving you time to get any air—but when you’re thoroughly breathless and light-headed, he rests his forehead against yours as you both catch your breath, your chests heaving.

Jeno recovers faster than you do, moving and pressing kisses down your neck to your collarbones and back up while you play catch up. Unfortunately for you, each drag of his lips against your throat, each well-placed suck of skin and cheeky flick of the tongue only serves to make your breathing even more ragged, your eyes rolling back into your head as pleasure builds inside of you.

Unable to wait any longer, you cup his face and tilt his head up towards yours to kiss him another time. He straightens up immediately and returns the kiss eagerly, pressing his hips into yours in excitement before pulling back.

Your bodies move in sync, wordlessly on the same page as you both reach for the other’s clothing. Your movements are smooth and fluid as you unbuckle Jeno’s belt and unbutton his jeans, while Jeno’s are rough and jerky, the male haphazardly yanking at your pants until your button comes undone.

His fingertips are cold and slightly calloused as he navigates past your underwear, stroking the seat of the garment before chuckling quietly.

“Already this wet for me?” His tone is a mix of curiosity and awe with a teasing lilt to it and his eyes twinkle when you nod, clutching at his arm with your free hand. “You’re unreal.”

“Jeno, touch me,” you urge plaintively, and he obliges instantly, middle finger circling your entrance before pushing in slowly.

“God,” he groans in surprise, pulling his finger out and pushing it back in experimentally before establishing a rhythm that has you digging your nails into his arm for something to hold onto. “You’re so wet, holy shit.”

You can’t bring yourself to reply, instead pushing your hand past his jeans and palming his length through his boxers, stroking from bottom to top diligently. He’s big, you note internally, suppressing a moan of anticipation when you feel the ridges of his cock through the teasingly thin fabric of his underwear.

Eager for more of your touch, Jeno leans into you, unintentionally pressing you against the sink so hard the counter digs into your back uncomfortably. He speeds up his motions between your legs, smoothly adding a second finger to assist in pumping in and out of your core, and you’re suddenly thankful Jeno’s body’s there to keep you standing, your knees on the verge of buckling from all the stimulation.

You wrap your fingers around the base of his cock—well, as far around as you can manage—and start to pump your fist up and down the length of his shaft. Jeno practically purrs in satisfaction, returning the favor by curling his fingers inside of you and stroking along your inner walls in search of your g-spot.

He finds the small patch of nerves right around the time that you add your other hand into the mix, twisting and stroking him in opposite directions, both fists gliding up and down with the assistance of his pre-cum dripping from his tip.

“Careful, baby, you’re gonna make me cum,” he manages to get out through clenched teeth, and you shrug casually, blinking up at him intently.

“What’s so wrong with that, hm?” you tease, and he chuckles, shaking his head.

“What’s wrong with that is that I have plans for you tonight, and cumming early does not fit in those plans.” Jeno explains with a tempting smile that makes you just want to lean in and kiss him.

So you do. As you kiss him, he speeds up his pace and uses the heel of his palm to massage your clit and it’s not long before you’re climaxing with a gasp of his name and an overwhelmed whimper that makes Jeno’s cock twitch in your hands.

He moves your hands away from his length with a surprising amount of restraint and replaces your hands with one of his own, slowly pumping up and down his shaft as he observes you with bright, intense eyes.

“Can I taste you?” His voice is raspy with desire but his words are clear as he meets your gaze with a hopeful expression.

“Y-Yeah—um, yes, you can.” you stammer, finding it hard to maintain your composure under his gaze; it’s a mix of adoration, lust, and keen fascination as he studies everything about you, eyes roving over you as studiously as if he intends to commit your… everything to memory.

He smiles at your nervous response, eyes shifting to crescent moons as he sinks to his knees.

“Don’t worry, baby,” he hums sweetly, looking up at you from his kneeling position. He helps you out of your underwear and jeans, draping your leg over his shoulder and shifting to get closer to you. “Gonna take care of you.”

He places a feather-light kiss to the hood of your clit, making you whimper quietly, and he gazes up at you, curiously studying your reactions as he spreads your folds with his index and middle fingers and drags his tongue up from your entrance to your clit.

A loud gasp escapes you, and your hand moves reflexively to the top of his head, fingers curling in his black locks of hair. He chuckles into your core, the sound sending pleasurable vibrations through your body before repeating the action, heavy-handed strokes of his tongue lashing at the underside of your sensitive clit as you squirm above him, tugging on his hair and rocking your hips closer into his face.

He reaches behind you and grabs your ass, hands gripping your cheeks firmly and pulling you as close to his mouth as he can manage. His tongue works at your core in an almost frenzy, lapping at you as if you’re all he’s ever wanted to taste. You shudder at the sensations, a low moan emerging from your chest involuntarily, and he echoes you, his groan of bliss garbled by the way his tongue swirls around your clit.

“Fuck, Jeno—feels so good,” you exhale shakily, eyes sliding shut in ecstasy as he devours you, arousal-smeared lips sucking and kissing at your folds and tongue flicking and swirling, dipping teasingly into your entrance.

“You’re perfect,” he slurs against your folds, sucking them between his lips and running his tongue over them before releasing them and returning his attention to your clit, sucking the bundle of nerves into his mouth and letting it slip from his lips with a lewd wet smacking noise. “So fucking perfect—”

“Jeno, please,” you whine, reaching between your legs with your free hand and spreading your folds, tugging the hooded flesh above your clit up to expose the sensitive button. “Right here—please—wanna cum so bad—”

His eyes flick up to yours, so wild and filled with desire that it takes you by surprise, and he growls in determination under his breath as he surges forward and lets loose on your poor, expectant clit, alternating between sucking hard, flicking it back and forth, swirling his tongue around it and, to your scandalized surprise, burying his face in your core, the tip and bridge of his nose bumping and massaging your clit.

“Fuck—” you hiss in surprise, the word ending in a desperate moan as he brings you to your climax, letting his tongue lie flat against your entrance as he moves his head up and down, guiding you into using the bridge of his nose to stimulate your clit.

“Ride my face,” he instructs through a throaty grunt, and you eagerly oblige, humping against his face as you ride out your high, moaning and panting Jeno’s name repeatedly.

“Holy shit,” you whisper in shock as Jeno straightens up and licks his lips before starting to stroke himself with slow strokes, tightly curled fist fucking his thick shaft as he watches you with a smug grin and slightly wildened eyes.

“Turn around for me?” he offers, pointing his finger downwards and twirling it around, his gaze darkening when you do just that and turn to face the mirror above the sink. “That’s it, stick that cute little ass out for me.” he grunts, and you feel your cheeks flush with heat, averting your gaze from his through the mirror.

He smooths a palm over your asscheek, kneading the flesh before mimicking the action on the other one. He positions himself behind you and pushes his length into you, hissing in delight as your walls flex and stretch to accommodate his size.

“Fuck, Jeno,” you moan out, and he chuckles, the sound more teasing and dark than you’ve ever heard him. It’s a new, definitely not unwelcome side to him that you’re seeing right now and the realization brings forth yet another wave of arousal and desire that travels through your body and slickens around his length.

“Feels good?” he groans, and you nod vehemently, rocking your hips back onto him. “Yeah, I know it feels good, you’re gushing all over my cock, princess.”

All you can muster up in response are pathetic whines and whimpers as he drives his length into you, and he snickers, pulling your head up so you’re looking into the mirror.

“Look at yourself,” he urges, voice strained from his desire. “How good you look taking me like this.”

“Jeno—” you cry, feeling a myriad of emotions as you watch yourself in the mirror. You look fucked out, to say the least, pupils wide but lids heavy as you trap your bottom lip between your teeth. Your lipgloss is smeared around your mouth, which soon falls open as breathy pants and cries sound out from your kiss-swollen lips freely.

“Prettiest girl I’ve ever fucking seen,” he moans through clenched teeth as he focuses his attention on drilling into you repeatedly. “That feels so good around my cock, baby, keep sucking me in like that—” The head of his cock fucks into your most sensitive spot along your inner walls and you lose all sensibility, grabbing at the sink to steady yourself.

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum,” you gasp, fingers moving to rub your clit to help you reach your peak only to flinch away when you touch your sensitive clit and a jolt of something overtakes you.

“Cum all over my cock, baby,” Jeno half-urges, half-pleads as your climax hits.

So you do—hard. Your vision goes unfocused as you become acutely aware of the sound of your blood rushing through your ears and you can only let out weak moans and gasps as pleasure consumes you entirely.

Jeno’s throbbing length twitches inside of you as he pulls out and pushes in while your walls constrict around him, and his grip on your hips tightens as he begins to chase his own release.

“So good, baby,” he praises in a low, hushed murmur as he bites down on his bottom lip. “God, I need to cum—baby, where can I cum?”

“Inside,” you reply instantly, and he moans in delight, pushing into you all the way as he starts to cum.

“God, you’re amazing,” he breathes. “You want me to cum nice and deep in your pretty pussy, yeah?”

“Uh-huh—” you sniffle plaintively, and he sucks in a sharp breath as he meets your gaze in the mirror.

“Fuck—it’s yours, baby—gonna give you all of it, princess—” he promises, staying true to his word and not pulling out until your walls have milked him dry. His eyes shut tightly and he breathes out loudly through his nose as his body goes tense and rigid for a moment.

As you two catch your breath, Jeno gently guides your jelly-like limbs up and around so you’re sitting on the sink counter and reaches up to hold your face, assessing your expression carefully.

“How do you feel?” he asks softly, and his endearing display of concern brings a small, bashful smile to your face. “Good?” he chuckles, and you give a nod of confirmation. “Good.” he murmurs, moving to wrap his arms around your waist and pull you closer for a tight, warm, secure hug.

If you were a cat, you’re sure that you’d be purring loudly as he rubs soothing circles into the small of your back and presses light kisses to the shoulder he’s resting on.

After a moment, he releases you slowly, now sporting a shy smile of his own. “I could stay here with you all night,” he confesses quietly, and your own smile widens as you reach forward to take one of his hands in your own.

“I would like that,” you admit, and he chuckles.

“Don’t tempt me,” he warns you playfully. “Unfortunately, I think we should get out of this bathroom before someone finds out we’re in here.”

As soon as he reminds you of your circumstances, you can’t help but feel a sudden jolt of panic and think about your argument with Haechan.

“I suppose you’re right,” you sigh, frowning slightly, and he coos fondly at you, leaning in to kiss you softly. “I guess we should get ready, huh?”

“Yeah,” he agrees, and he steps back to help you off the counter, handing you your pants and underwear before busying himself with buttoning and zipping his pants. You get redressed quickly and quietly and he puts his hand on the doorknob, quickly squeezing your hand in a comforting gesture before releasing you and opening the door.

To your surprise, when you come out and make your way back to the party, it doesn’t seem like anyone caught onto your joint absence, making you think that maybe, just maybe you’ve gotten away with it.

That is, until Haechan corners you on your way back from the kitchen when the rest of your friends have slipped off to smoke.

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” he scoffs, and you try your best to play dumb despite feeling caught—and guilty at that.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you lie, and he gives you the most unimpressed stare you’ve seen in a minute, making you blanch and look away in mild embarrassment.

“We’re gonna stand here and pretend that I don’t know what you look like after you’ve been fucked?” he says flatly, and you swallow thickly, realizing you probably can’t dodge the topic anymore.

“What exactly are you getting at, Haechan?” you huff, and he shoots you a wide-eyed, incredulous look.

“You had sex with Jeno.” He gets straight to the point and you wince internally before bracing yourself and meeting his gaze levelly.

“And?”

“And you did it specifically after I asked you not to flirt with him tonight.”

“Who do you think you are to make any sort of request like that of me, though?” you counter, and to your surprise, his nerve falters visibly, his hand lifting to rub the back of his neck.

“I know we’re not together, but—”

“But nothing! Not only are we not together, but you’re together with someone else!” you whisper-shout, and his expression turns defensive.

“We’re not together,” he repeats, staring you down as if daring you to interrupt him again, “but you know good and well we’re not not together.”

“We’re not exclusive.” you point out.

“You can slice and dice the anatomy of our relationship any way you want, okay?” Haechan says, exasperated. “But you know what you did was messed up. That’s why you pretended not to know what I was talking about.”

You hate that he’s right. “I don’t really want to talk about this right now,” you mutter, looking away.

“Oh, believe me. We’ll talk about it later.” he replies, the resolve in his voice more than a little intimidating.

“Great,” you say sarcastically. “Can I go now?”

“I don’t know why you asked. You’re just going to do what you want anyway.” he half-scoffs, half-chuckles, and you can’t help but smile slightly with satisfaction.

“Ring any bells?”

“No,” he replies as you turn to leave, leaning in so his lips are by your ear. “I don’t pretend to care what the other person thinks. I just do it.”

“I don’t pretend, I consider my options.” you reply defensively, turning your nose up haughtily before walking away.

“We’re gonna pretend that’s not worse?” Haechan calls after you incredulously, but you ignore him, rounding the corner and practically collapsing in relief when you see that Yunjin and Chaewon have returned from their smoke break, the two of them giggling together on the couch.

They look up to see you and break into wide smiles, making space between them and reaching out to welcome you closer.

“We are starving,” Chaewon complains when you plop between them on the couch. “We were thinking about getting food somewhere.”

“How about the diner? I could really go for a cheeseburger right now.” you suggest, and Yunjin’s eyes light up.

“Yes! I’ll see if everyone else wants to go… after I rest for a second.” she says, resting her head on your shoulder, and you hum sympathetically.

“What’s wrong? Why so sleepy?”

“I’m drained,” she complains. “I sucked in a Scooby snack earlier when I was hitting my bowl and I haven’t recovered from my coughing fit.”

“Dang…Toke-ahontas did you dirty, huh?” you say with a frown.

“After all I’ve done for her!” she exclaims, throwing her hands up in exasperation. “She’s ungrateful.”

“Yeah, she cost you about 100 aura points.” Chaewon nods sadly, and you and Yunjin look at each other then at her in confusion. “Aura points? It’s a TikTok thing!”

“You need to stop being so chronically online.” Yunjin says in a gently concerned voice.

“Online is where the lesbians are,” Chaewon defends herself, and you snort.

“The online lesbians are filling your head with inane terms and thoughts.” you inform her.

Chaewon huffs, crossing her arms as her lip begins to tremble. “The online lesbians wouldn’t do that to me!”

“Okay, they wouldn’t!” you switch up immediately to avoid actually upsetting her and you pull her into a hug. “The online lesbians love and care for you, they’re just a little silly.”

“Yeah!” she sniffles, resting her head on your chest. “My silly online lesbians.”

You and Yunjin share a look over Chaewon’s unsuspecting head before shaking your heads and smiling to yourselves.

“Back to you,” you say, refocusing on Yunjin. “You are so brave,” you say seriously, patting her hand gently, and she smiles up at you, chuckling slightly before starting to cough once more. “Poor thing.”

“If I die,” she rasps dramatically, “tell my boss I hate how complicated her coffee order is. It makes all the baristas hate me and then they think I’m the pretentious prick who orders several customized drinks for varied drinking pleasures.”

“Absolutely will do.” you nod resolutely. “If I can remember all those words.” Yunjin snickers before coughing again. “Good God.”

As you all enter the diner and head to your usual spots, you’re surprised when Jeno slips in front of Haechan and slides into the spot next to you.

Haechan, it seems, is just as stunned as you are, if not more. Jeno sits close to you, his thigh pressing up against yours and his fingers lightly grazing at the top of your hand in a silent, nervous request.

You make eye contact with Haechan, who’s settled down beside Winter and is staring absolute daggers at an oblivious Jeno, and oblige Jeno’s request, turning your palm up to link your fingers with his. He jolts in surprise at the contact, definitely not expecting you to agree to it, but a shy, excited smile slowly curls his lips as he curls his fingers around yours, the gentle act of affection happening under the table away from prying eyes.

You can’t help but notice that Jeno’s intent gaze is nothing short of adoring as he studies you, not letting go of your hand for even a moment. In fact, when the waitress comes with your menus, he seems to forget to release you, bringing your linked hands up from under the table to reach for his respective menu.

Your eyes can’t help but dart to Haechan, who’s already staring at your intertwined fingers with an unreadable expression and a clenched jaw. He stares at your hands, then you, then Jeno, before snapping out of it a moment later to receive his menu from the waitress. You carefully extract your fingers from Jeno’s with a hint of embarrassment, averting your gaze from Haechan’s the whole time as you cover the gesture by fixing your hair, brushing it out of your face.

Conversation builds amongst you all gradually, your and Haechan’s unusual silence compensated for by Jeno’s unexpectedly bubbly contributions. You can’t help but look over at Haechan periodically, the subject of your attention pointedly staring down at his menu with his jaw set and brow furrowed.

You know that you two just had an argument, and neither of you owe each other anything… so why do you feel so wrong?

Jeno snaps you out of your thoughts when he slumps down to rest his head on your shoulder. It’s almost comical, the way that the larger male contorts his body just to place his head on you, but you can’t find it in you to be truly amused—not with the way Haechan pokes his tongue to the inside of his cheek in poorly concealed irritation.

“Hey, where’d you two disappear to, anyway?” Yunjin’s voice cuts through your internal spiraling, and you freeze at the sudden attention, blinking twice in a daze before meeting her curious gaze.

“What do you mean?” you ask, feigning cluelessness.

“At the party, girl! You and Jeno disappeared out of nowhere and showed up, like, an hour later.” As she speaks, you watch the realization set in, her eyes dropping to where Jeno’s head rests on your shoulder, lifting to study the content smile on his face, and finally meeting your shifty gaze.

You’re less than surprised when she spares Haechan a surreptitious glance only to find him staring directly at you with a challenge burning in his eyes.

Tell them where you were. He doesn’t need to say a word, evidently, because you look down at your hands in your lap, wanting so badly to feel comforted by the way Jeno’s thumb strokes the back of your hand yet feeling more alienated than ever.

“Oh, I lost my phone and she was helping me look for it.” Jeno’s voice pipes up as he covers for you, and you try not to visibly slump with relief.

“Again? Jeno, you’re always losing your things.” Chaewon scolds.

“Yeah, you’d better be careful before you lose something you can’t replace.” Haechan says in a low tone, words heavy with a warning and an unspoken threat that you’re sure has nothing to do with a cellphone.

Jeno notices it, too, unfortunately. Letting out a low whistle, Jeno sits up slightly and squares his shoulders as he stares back at Haechan. “What’s with the hostility? I’ve never lost anything I couldn’t—or didn’t—get back or replace.”

“Yet.” Haechan mutters under his breath bitterly, and the air at the table seems to go stale as everyone freezes at the impending threat. Everyone, that is, except for the oh, so clueless Winter, whose response to her irate boyfriend’s remark is to loop her hand around his arm and look up at him questioningly.

“You okay, baby?” she asks, concerned, and he blinks back an almost imperceptible roll of his eyes before shifting his gaze to her with a tight-lipped smile.

She brightens up at the sight of his smile, resting her head on his shoulder, leaving you to wonder how she could miss the absolute fire blazing in his eyes. You also feel the urge to swallow bile as you stare blankly at where her head meets his shoulder.

It hits you then, the realization finally sinking in, that you’re jealous of Winter, and your anger multiplies what feels like tenfold as you start to spiral, your mood worsening rapidly.

That is her boyfriend. He doesn’t belong to you. You don’t even want Haechan like that.

…Do you?

“I’m fine. I’m just making sure Jeno’s more… responsible. Next time, he won’t be so lucky if someone gets to that phone before he does and doesn’t feel like giving it back.”

Once again, there’s a hidden meaning to his words, and everyone at the table apart from Jeno and Winter exchanges uncomfortable glances that all manage to flicker your way. Haechan slowly drags his gaze from Winter to you, his eyes dark and intense.

“Whoever finds it in the future probably already has a cellphone.” you counter, leveling his gaze. “A perfectly good one, at that. So what the hell would they want with his?”

Haechan chuckles humorlessly before shrugging casually and draping his arm around Winter’s shoulders, Winter leaning into his side eagerly. “Maybe they want an upgrade.”

“I have the iPhone 11 Pro,” Jeno remarks in confusion.

“Maybe they shouldn’t be so fucking greedy and appreciate the perfectly functional phone they already have before snatching other people’s phones.” you snap, and Haechan’s brows raise in surprise at that.

“Greedy?” he starts to counter in disbelief, but Yunjin claps twice to get everyone’s attention, taking turns staring you and Haechan down with evident disapproval.

“That’s enough out of you both, actually. And where the hell is the waitress, anyway?” she desperately attempts to change the topic, leaving a tense atmosphere and a confused Jeno and Winter in the aftermath.

As Yunjin and Chaewon set about trying to get the attention of the waitress to take your orders, you and Haechan exchange fierce stares, neither of you backing down from the charged eye contact.

At the end of your meal, the tension at the table has only dissipated slightly, the burning embers of irritation kept alight by your frustrating inability to ignore the way Winter’s been hanging on Haechan’s arm and staring up at him with adoring eyes virtually all night.

Haechan looks up from his phone at you unexpectedly, catching you dead in the act of glaring at where his and Winter’s bodies meet. He raises his eyebrows almost imperceptibly, leaving you seething internally and cursing how attractive he is, before poking his tongue in his cheek and looking away with a growing smug grin.

You think for a moment that you’ll be fine, that you can get a handle on your emotions, but Winter sits up slightly to leave a flurry of kisses to Haechan’s cheek, making exaggerated smooching noises with every kiss, and you just about gag, tossing your napkin down on the table a bit too forcefully to play off as nothing.

“You alright?” Haechan asks slowly, knowing good and damn well that you’re not alright, that you couldn’t possibly be alright—

you got me some type of way ain’t used to feeling this way i do not know what to say but i know i shouldn’t think about it

“Yeah, I just lost my appetite.” you mumble bitterly, and Winter hums sympathetically.

“We can ask for a to-go box!” she offers helpfully, and you force a smile in her direction. “I’ll call the waitress.”

“As a matter of fact, I think I’m gonna go home soon.” you say, trying with all your might to refrain from throwing a full-blown temper tantrum in the middle of your regular diner.

Jeno turns to observe you carefully, concern etched in his features. “Do you feel okay?” he asks worriedly, reaching up to place the back of his hand against your forehead.

You note, with a shockingly sinister satisfaction, that Haechan visibly bristles at the contact between you and Jeno, the male across from you swallowing thickly before taking a small sip of the ice water in his cup.

“I feel okay, Jeno,” you assure him softly, and he relaxes slightly before removing his hand from your head and placing it on your thigh under the table, palm facing upwards in a silent request that you grant readily, lacing your fingers with his.

Now it’s Haechan’s turn to react, rolling his eyes and scoffing under his breath before raising his hand to flag down the waitress.

She arrives at your table shortly after he’s called her over and agrees to bring the checks and a couple of to-go containers, thanking you all for your patronage and bidding you a good night.

You try not to fling your card on the table with the utter desperation you feel to get out of there, but it lands a bit roughly anyway.

Jeno picks up your card and hands it back to you, smiling sweetly before placing his card on top of both of your receipts.

You return his smile gratefully, blatantly ignoring the way Haechan’s staring at you both, and reach for your coat so you can leave.

You almost hate to say it, but seeing Winter all over Haechan tonight seems to have awakened something nasty, hateful, and bitter in you, and you think it’s in your best interest to make your escape before that something rears its ugly head.

By the time you and Yunjin get home, your mind is reeling and you feel absolutely restless.

“I’m gonna get ready for bed,” you mutter, shrugging off your coat and heading to your room. With every step closer to your room, you grow more frustrated by the situation.

You shut your door all too harshly, prompting you to open and close it again softer in a wordless apology, and toss your purse onto your bed before slowly starting to strip in the full length mirror by your vanity.

took one fucking look at your face now i wanna know how you taste usually don’t give it away but you know i’m out here thinking ‘bout it

You’re down to your bra and nothing else before an idea strikes you and you’re leaping onto your bed and pulling your phone from your purse.

Your fingers are moving before you even register it, your mind one step ahead of you as you press the phone icon next to the contact you’ve typed in and wait with bated breath.

then i realize she’s right there and i’m at home like, “damn, this ain’t fair”

The phone rings once, twice, and almost finishes the third before he picks up. “Hello?”

“Hi,” you say, a smile curling your lips.

“Is everything alright?” he asks, tone slightly curt, and it dawns on you that he most certainly isn’t happy with you at the moment.

“Are you alone?” you murmur into the phone, and he sucks in a sharp breath. “Haechan?”

He mutters a curse under his breath, no doubt affected by the need in your voice, before he grunts in acknowledgement.

break up with your girlfriend yeah, yeah, ‘cause i’m bored

“I need you,” you admit plainly, and he groans, the sound tempted and tortured all in one. “Come over?”

You hear him mutter an excuse—something about fresh air—and the background noises shift to an outside soundscape; cars driving by in the distance, the rush of night air, and, most importantly, Haechan’s deep breathing.

“You know I can’t do that.” he replies finally, his voice gruff, yet you can hear the strain in his voice, the desperation for you not to tempt him any further.

you could hit it in the morning yeah, yeah, like it’s yours

So you do. “But Haechan…” you trail off, and you hear him hum curiously, making you smile before you continue, “I’m not wearing any underwear.”

The barely controlled breathing on the other line stops abruptly before a low swear sounds out. “You’re joking.”

“Come over and find out.”

i know it ain’t right but i don’t care

The line goes silent for a moment. It’s so silent, in fact, that you fear he’s hung up. However, a ragged inhale sounds out from the other end before he says, “I don’t care if you’re wearing them right now or not, but they’d better be off by the time I get there.”

“Oh, yeah?” you hum, rolling over onto your stomach with a triumphant grin.

“Yeah,” he grunts. “I don’t need anything in my way.”

“Copy that,” you say with a giggle, heading to your front door and making sure your spare key is where it usually is. “Our spare key is under the doormat.”

“Good girl,” he breathes before the line goes dead. Instantly, your body thrums with anticipation, the knowledge of your forbidden lover’s imminent arrival filling you with desire and excitement. You can barely wait, alternating between thrashing around on your bed eagerly and fixing up your appearance in your vanity mirror. You decide to throw on a sleep shirt so you’re not just lying there too bare; you feel embarrassed enough thinking about how close you were to begging him on the phone.

You’re thrown out of your excited little frenzy when your front door slams shut and rapid footsteps sound out towards your bedroom.

The door swings open and Haechan freezes in the doorway at the sight of your frame laid on your bed clad only in a bra and large t-shirt, a deep groan sounding from his throat as he clutches the doorknob so hard his knuckles whiten.

“You’re unreal,” he spits out through gritted teeth as he quickly makes his way to the bed. As soon as he’s close enough to touch you, he’s flinging your legs apart and slotting himself between them as he pulls you into a fierce kiss by the back of your neck. “Thought I told you I don’t want anything in my way, hm?”

“I’m not wearing anything,” you say through a shaky exhale that cuts off when his fingers prove you right as they circle your bare, already pulsing clit.

“Closing your legs counts.” he huffs, dipping his middle finger into your warmth teasingly. When you cry out, he chuckles under his breath before retracting his finger and tracing yet another teasing round of circles around your clit. “Want my pretty girl on display for me.”

“It is for you,” you whimper, clutching at his shirt to pull him closer.

“You sure it’s not for Jeno?” he practically spits his friend’s name, and you almost wince from the disapproving tone of his voice.

“No,” you whine, drawing out the syllable to emphasize your point. “Only you.”

“You’re lucky I like you so fucking much.” he grunts against your lips, and you giggle mischievously.

“Mm, yeah?” you muse softly, carding your fingers through his brown locks at the nape of his neck. “How much?”

“So much that I’m gonna ignore your bratty little attitude from earlier and give you what you want.” He pulls back from your lips and fixes you with a stare that dares you to contradict him, and you fall silent.

Satisfied, his fingers slide down your stomach over your shirt to slip between your legs once more, stroking and pinching and massaging your clit as you squirm and whimper under him.

His gaze falls on your face, watching you intently as your features twitch and contort with the different pleasurable sensations he’s giving to you. Haechan pushes two digits into your clenching entrance, hissing when you mewl softly in pleasure and responding by curling his fingers up and starting to move them in and out inside of you.

The room is gradually filled with your panting, whimpering, and pleading as he pumps his fingers into you and he presses his lips to yours, momentarily silencing you as he swallows your moans with his heated kiss.

“Good?” he breathes, and you nod, prompting him to smile against your lips before kissing down to your neck. “Need to hear you,” he reminds you, and you swallow thickly before speaking.

”Good,” you confirm breathlessly, and he chuckles. “So, so good—yes—fuck, right there—”

“Here?” he taunts, curling his fingers to fuck into the patch of nerves along your inner walls that made you cry out, and you nod vigorously, clutching at his arm tightly.

“Exactly—please don’t stop,” you plead in a broken sob, and he coos affectionately, nipping at the thin skin of your neck. Swirling his tongue over your pulse point before pressing a soft smattering of kisses to the heated area, he keeps fucking you open with his fingers as he sucks just enough to make your head spin but not enough to leave any marks. “Haechan, I’m gonna cum—!”

“Good, baby,” he grunts, pulling away from your neck to study your face. His insistence to see you in such a vulnerable state makes heat rise to your cheeks and you turn your head to the side to avert your gaze.

He shifts so he’s kneeling between your legs and brings his now free hand to your neck, cupping your jaw in his index and thumb fingers and turning your face back to his before adjusting his fingers to grip the side of your neck and keep you in place.

“Your pussy is so loud and wet, baby, you like this that much?” he’s teasing you without a doubt, but you can’t even protest, your climax so close you can practically taste it. “Cum, baby,” he urges through gritted teeth, “and keep those pretty eyes looking at me as you do.”

You oblige (not without difficulty) and lock eyes with Haechan right before your climax hits, your back arching off of the bed as your eyes screw shut.

“Fucking perfect,” he whispers reverently, leaning over you to kiss you. “Like a little temptress.”

“I’m not,” you start to protest weakly, but as the pleasure courses through you, you can barely get the words out without them coming out as a pathetic whine.

“You are,” he confirms as you finally start to come down from your high. “Dangerous as hell, too, and you know it.” He moves lower down your body, releasing your throat, and gazes up at you intently, waiting for you to lock eyes with him before he lets his tongue loll out of his mouth and wags it at you in a teasingly lewd gesture that makes you gasp.

Haechan presses a lingering kiss to just below the hem of your shirt, looking up at you before biting down on the fabric and dragging it up your torso until it’s bunched up above the swell of your breasts.

He shifts so he’s comfortably propped up beside you, one of his legs hooked around one of yours to prevent you from closing them, and he trails one glistening wet finger up from your pulsating core to travel across your stomach to stop right under the front center of your bra. He marvels at the shiny trail his finger left on your skin before dipping his head to drag his tongue up that exact path he just made. As his head moves up your body, his free hand pushes your bra up and over your breasts, granting himself free access to your chest.

He moans as he gropes your chest, kneading and squeezing the flesh between his fingers, and shifts closer to take your nipple into his mouth without warning.

You cry out in surprise and he chuckles around his mouthful of… well, you before pulling back just enough to grant you with the alluring visual of his full pink lips wrapped around your sensitive bud and his shiny wet tongue swirling around your raised flesh.

A shaky moan escapes you and he returns to sucking on your nipple, his tongue still unmistakably rolling around and over your bud even hidden away inside his mouth.

Cupping your neglected breast with his free hand, he rolls your nipple between his index finger and thumb, tugging and flicking it to match the sensations he’s causing with his mouth. When he bites down, he pinches, and you whine in protest, squirming under him. The pressure is gone just as quickly as it was applied and he showers both breasts with kisses and gentle touches—you can’t quite tell if it’s an apology or a reward, but you’re not sure you mind.

“How are we feeling, baby?” he murmurs before swirling slow circles around your nipple with his tongue.

“Good,” you breathe, and he grins, looking up at you before snaking his hand between your legs to touch your aching core. You breathe in sharply when his fingers brush your clit before dipping into you to explore your wetness.

“Fuck,” he mumbles in a daze, shifting down on the bed to get closer to where his fingers keep moving inside of you. “Feeling really good, aren’t you, baby?” His voice utterly fascinates you in its transparency; his tone is still lilting to tease you, but everything about his low, strained voice screams desperation to the point of ruin.

“Let’s see if I can make you feel even better, yeah?” he moves further down the bed and between your legs, ducking his head down faster than you can collect yourself enough to warn him.

“Fuck—be careful, I’m sensitive—” you hiss, and he pulls away from your core, turning his head to kiss your inner thigh sweetly.

“I got you.” he assures you, and you practically melt into the mattress.

His tongue finds the underside of your clit with ease, massaging the stiffened bud as a deep tremble runs through your body. Thick, wet, pink muscle swirls decadently around your clit, plush lips wrapping around to suck gently as you whine and rock your hips up and closer to his face.

He hooks his arms around your thighs, holding them open as he indulges himself in the taste of you. Flicking your bundle of nerves back and forth rapidly with the tip of his tongue slowly turns into long, heavy drags of his tongue flat against your core. With every rough lap at your clit, you jolt under his touch and struggle to remain in place as his tongue nestles between your folds to slurp at your slick entrance.

His sounds are every bit as sinful as his tongue, desperate grunts and moans escaping him as he devours every last bit of you, and he sends you hurtling towards the edge unceremoniously when he pushes his tongue into you, letting the muscle fill you up to the best of its ability.

“God—” you hiss, and he chuckles, retracting his tongue from you (much to your dismay).

“You can take it, right?” he taunts softly, gazing up at you challengingly. “Of course you can, baby.” He pulls back slightly from your core to massage your lower thighs while leaving kisses all over the insides of your upper thighs. “You’re gonna take every bit of pleasure I give you, aren’t you?”

“Yes,” you pant, scratching weakly at his scalp, “gonna take it all—”

“That’s my girl,” he murmurs adoringly, head returning to between your legs to resume his mind-scrambling combination of licking and sucking at your poor, hypersensitive core as you stumble closer and closer towards your climax.

“Mm—I’m gonna—fuck—cum, Haechan, stop—”

“Why would I stop?” Haechan replies with an amused scoff, lips still brushing your clit with every movement before he goes back to sucking, pulling his head back and letting your abused bud slip from between his lips. “You’re gonna give me everything I want, isn’t that right?”

“Ah—yes, yes, I am!” you agree hurriedly, desperate to reach your peak.

“Then give me those pretty moans and faces I like so much, hm?” he coos sweetly, finally coaxing you to your climax with his lips vibrating around your clit with every word.

You cry out in ecstasy, eyes sliding shut as pleasure floods through your system, and his tongue is relentless against you, dipping into you to tease, swirling around, and licking at everything he can get his mouth on.

In the haze of your orgasm, your hand finds Haechan, the male linking his fingers with yours and placing your joined hands where your hip and thigh meet. He moves up to kiss you sweetly, lips locking intimately as the taste of your arousal swirls in both of your mouths.

When he starts peppering kisses down lower, you wonder briefly what he’s up to before your eyes widen in realization as his movements become more determined and his path more clear in its ultimate destination.

“Hae–Haechan, what are you doing?” you complain, swatting at his head weakly, but he stops you with one hand, looping his fingers around your wrist and setting it down on the bed by your hips.

“Trying to see if I could make you come again with my fingers and tongue.” he mutters distractedly before his tongue flicks the underside of your clit, making you jolt, and you immediately start squirming away even as he shifts to follow you, his fingers buried inside of you never once letting up in their relentless exploring of your walls.

“Please don’t,” you plead, and he shushes you sweetly.

“I know you can do it, baby—”

“I know I can, too! That’s not the problem,” you huff.

He raises both eyebrows in a silent cue for you to continue. “Then what’s the problem?”

“Haechan, I can’t wait any longer.” you plead breathlessly, and he hums in understanding before pushing your legs wider apart and settling between them, watching you with fascination as he palms himself through his boxers.

“Is that right?” he asks, tilting his head to the side curiously, and you nod vehemently, reaching for his hips to pull him closer to you. You can feel the head of his cock pressing against your waiting entrance, anticipation thrumming in your veins. “Then I guess my pretty, spoiled baby shouldn’t have to wait any longer.” Without another word, he guides himself into you, hissing in pleasure as you cry out in relief.

He pulls out to the tip, rubbing it against your slick folds and collecting your arousal on his length before he pushes into you as deep as he can, letting out a groan of satisfaction as your walls clench around him, greedily sucking him in as far as possible.

He pulls one of your legs up so your calf rests on his shoulder and pushes two fingers past your lips, eyes darkening as he watches you suck them.

“You drive me fucking crazy, you know that?” he says, pulling out halfway before sending his hips snapping into yours with a powerful thrust that makes you cry out in surprise, the sound garbled by his middle and ring fingers on your tongue.

He starts to fuck into you roughly, his cock hitting places along your inner walls that have you seeing stars, and it’s all you can do to focus on the task of swirling your tongue around his fingers, drool already pooling beneath your tongue before slowly dripping down your chin.

“Messy baby,” he coos patronizingly, and you can only offer a scratchy moan in response, one of your hands moving to cup your breast and squeeze. “Were you jealous, baby? Hm?” he teases, and you can’t find it in you to lie, nodding your head emphatically as he pounds into you. “Yeah? You were?” He’s absolutely making fun of your irrational reaction earlier, and you couldn’t stop him even if you wanted to—not with the way his length fills you up just right and hits all the right spots.

“Feels—so good—” you moan around his fingers, and he pulls them from your mouth, a trail of spit connecting them to your bottom lip before he’s leaning forward and kissing you passionately, his tongue licking at the drool on your chin before pushing into your mouth and flicking at your own tongue playfully.

“Were you thinking about me stuffing my cock in someone that’s not you?” he pants, never relenting on his thrusts, and you nod, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes from the sheer amount of pleasure flooding through your body. “It’d never be the same, baby,” he assures you, lips brushing against yours as he speaks. “Your pussy squeezes my cock just fucking right,” he grunts, “and you’re so wet I could just slip right out of you.”

At his words, you panic, clutching at him to pull him closer to you, making him snicker condescendingly. “No, don’t go—stay—stay with me, stay in me, I need you, please—” you babble, and his gaze darkens at the sound of your begging, lips parting slightly as he sucks in a sharp breath.

“No, you don’t want me to pull out, right?” he riles you up further, mocking the frantic way you shake your head no with a devilish grin on his face. “Want me nice and deep in this pretty pussy so you can cream all over my cock.”

“Haechan—” you gasp, almost entirely overwhelmed. “Haechan, I’m so cl—”

“I know, baby, I know,” he shushes you comfortingly, dare you say lovingly, his gentle words starkly contrasting the powerful way he drives his hips into you. “I got you. Go ahead and let go.”

When your climax hits, you genuinely feel like you’re falling apart in the best way possible. Your whole body tenses, curling in on itself, wound up tight like a coil before the tension snaps and your muscles go slack from exhaustion, your mouth seemingly stuck open in a soundless gasp as ecstasy blooms all throughout your body.

Haechan watches you come undone with wild, adoring eyes, wetting his lips before meeting your lips in a heated, wet kiss made all the more sloppy by the fact that you can’t seem to move your mouth the way you want to in order to return his kisses.

Desperate pants and whimpers fall from your parted lips as you messily move them against his mouth, cheeks warming with embarrassment at the sound of his amused chuckle.

“Am I fucking you that good, baby? You forgot how to kiss me back?” he taunts you breathlessly, and all you can do is nod pathetically, reaching for his face with trembling hands connected to arms that feel like jelly. He lets you cup his face, only slowing down his thrusts ever so slightly so you can properly kiss him back, Haechan humming contently into the kiss. When you two part, you feel a cool bead of your mixed saliva drip down from your no doubt swollen bottom lip, and he grins. “That’s more like it.”

He sits back upright and his hands cup under your thighs, caressing the flesh before moving your legs one at a time so your ankles are resting on his shoulders and his length is hitting spots that keep making fireworks go off in your vision.

“Good like this?” he asks in a soft murmur, and you nod quickly, making him snicker fondly. “Eager, huh?”

“Feels so good, Haechan,” you moan, slurring your words slightly from all the pleasure.

“Fuck, you sound so tempting.” he grunts, drilling his thick length into your core. “Keep talking, baby.”

You, quite frankly, do not know what the hell you’re about to say, given that your brain is a puddle of arousal right now, but you’d do damn near anything to keep Haechan inside of you at this point.

“Feels so full,” you whimper, clutching his forearm tightly. “So full—feels so good—fuck, right there!”

“Here, baby? Right here?” he’s absolutely taunting you, but you can tell by the tensing of his muscles and the hard, slow blink he gives that he’s nowhere near unaffected.

“Mm, yeah,” you sigh blissfully as your stomach starts to furl and unfurl in that familiar way. You reach up to cup your breasts, squeezing them and tugging on your nipples. You’re so lost in your own world of mind-numbing pleasure that it doesn’t even register that Haechan’s watching you until he nips at your ankle to get your attention.

“Look at me, baby.” he orders gently, and you oblige (not without difficulty) as he watches you come undone. The final blow is when he reaches between your bodies to toy with your clit and you just about fall apart right there. “Hold it in for me, baby.”

“Wh–?” you splutter, baffled.

“Trust me, baby, it’s gonna feel so good in a second—”

“Haechan,” you interrupt, unable to take it for much longer as you reach up and cup his chin, pulling him closer to you. “Please—”

“Fuck,” he mutters, “I can’t say no to you.”

“Then don’t,” you practically cry, tears welling up from frustration and pleasure.

“My pretty girl wants to cum, yeah?” he grunts, and you nod, reaching to pull him closer.

“Want to cum with you, Haechan—you cum, too—” you manage to get out between gasps and moans, and his thrusts falter for a second as he looks down at you in poorly concealed surprise.

“Say that again,” he mumbles, and you feel the shift in the energy as he stares down at you with an expression suspiciously close to loving. “Please, baby, say it again?”

“Will you cum with me, Haechan?” you ask softly and hesitantly, suddenly feeling far too vulnerable from the request.

“You are so—” he mutters in awe, adoration twinkling in his hopeful eyes before he leans down to kiss you, this kiss far more slow and deliberate than you’re used to. “I can’t get enough of you—I’ll never get enough of you—”

“Haechan, move, please—” you beg, and he seems to remember his situation, sucking his bottom lip between his teeth as he slowly builds back up to the pace you were at previously.

“Baby—” he hisses, his brow furrowing, “I’m close—gonna cum—”

“Me too,” you whine, digging your nails into his forearms and making him grit his teeth. “Cum inside?”

“Fuck, you’re gonna drive me crazy,” he moans, burying his face in your neck before bringing two fingers to your clit to tease the bundle of nerves with rapid circles.

With languid, heated kisses being left all over your face, neck, and chest, and Haechan’s skilled fingers massaging your clit while his girthy length drags in and out of your clenching core, you climax with a deep shudder, your torso attempting to curl in on itself as he holds you firmly in place. True to your wishes, his hips stutter as he comes to bury himself inside of you and release into you, wet lips sucking at the flesh of your neck as he muffles his moan into your skin.

He drags his lips up a blazing path to meet your own, connecting them in a deep, slow, passionate kiss.

For a moment, you’re so entranced by his kisses that you think you might be able to cum again just from this.

His tongue strokes against yours, swirling and flicking sensually as he slowly ruts his hips against yours in smooth rolling motions that have you whimpering into the kiss and realizing that, yes, you very well might actually cum again just from this.

He pulls back to suck on your bottom lip before releasing it and meeting your gaze with a heady blend of lust and adoration swirling in his eyes, taking a moment to take in the sight of you in your unraveled state before leaning back in to kiss you once more.

“Haechan,” you manage to breathe between kisses, your voice pathetically whiny. He mimics your plaintive tone, humming in acknowledgement, and you cry out weakly, all too aware of the arousal collecting between your legs. “Gonna—wanna—wanna cum just like this,” you moan into his parted lips, and you feel him hesitate for half a second, his surprise practically tangible.

“Yeah, baby? You wanna cum just from my kissing?” he pants, voice unmistakably thick with desire. “Cum for me, baby.” His words are urgent but soft, filled with patience and a tenderness you can’t ignore.

You take over the pace of the movements, shifting to slot one of his legs between yours and rolling your hips up against his to send your bare core dragging up his thigh. A sharp hiss of surprise escapes you, followed by a sigh of relief when the friction is just right.

“My messy girl feels good, yeah? My pretty, messy baby wants to fuck my thigh? You’re so wet, baby, you’re gliding on me.” He leans down to murmur in your ear, that taunting lilt creeping back into his tone, but you haven’t forgotten the main event.

“Haechan, kiss me,” you whine, scratching at his back demandingly. He wastes no time in obliging, sealing his lips over yours with a content hum. Between the strokes of his tongue, the gentle sucking and kissing of his lips, and the friction his thigh is giving your poor clit, you’re coming undone yet again, this one a quiet, powerful climax that leaves your mind fuzzy and has you feeling like you’re on cloud nine.

As soon as your climax subsides, Haechan is quick to pull up his boxers and take you into his arms, pulling you against his chest firmly and pressing kisses to the crown of your head.

“That’s my girl,” he whispers soothingly. “You did so well, baby, I’m proud of you.”

You can’t even manage to mask your reaction to his praise, your face warming as you start to smile bashfully, and he chuckles, pressing kisses down from the top of your head to your forehead, the bridge of your nose, the tip, and finally connecting with your lips.

“I’ll clean us up in a bit, just give me a minute to be with you.” he assures you, and warmth blooms in your chest at his words, a small nod all you can manage in reply as you look up at him curiously.

“You good?” you ask softly, fingers carefully trailing along his bare chest, and he chuckles quietly, nodding with certainty.

“Never better, actually.” he responds, and you hum in acknowledgement, your mind starting to wander back to the events that transpired earlier in the evening and you swallow in an attempt to moisten your now dry throat as you think back to what exactly got Haechan over to your apartment.

“You know we’re gonna have to talk about it eventually,” Haechan pipes up, voice a throaty rumble, and you don’t need to look up to know he’s looking at you.

Wordlessly, you shift so you’re on your side, one leg over his as you resume your delicate but purposeful stroking of his chest and torso. He’s still silent as he presumably waits for your response, and you decide to amp up your actions in an attempt to distract him, lightly dragging your fingernails down his stomach to tease at the waistband of his boxers.

keep it one hundred, babe we both know i’m not the only one

“I know what you’re doing,” Haechan murmurs lowly, poorly attempting to conceal how affected he is.

but when i’m there, you treat a n**** real good and that’s probably why i always come

You hum softly in acknowledgement, continuing your movements, and blink up at him slowly. “Oh, yeah? What am I doing?”

“You’re distracting me,” he protests weakly, and you exhale quietly in amusement. “From being mad at you.”

“Do you want to be mad at me?” you sniffle, feigning hurt, and he chuckles before shaking his head slowly. “Then what’s the problem?”

“I need to express my feelings,” he groans when your manicured nails slip under the waistband of his boxers. “Get shit off my chest.” Completely contrary to his words, he tries to lift his hips subtly, urging your hand to move against him, and you snicker under your breath.

“You’re talking a lot but you’re literally guiding my hand into touching you.”

“Am not,” he says breathlessly, and you raise your eyebrows.

“No?” you say softly, trailing your hand up his body to trace small circles around his navel that have him shuddering visibly. “So you don’t like this?”

“N-No,” he grunts quietly, his eyes traitorously sliding shut in bliss when you scrape your nails down to his boxers again. He, remarkably enough, refuses to meet your eyes, and you correctly deduce that this must be Haechan’s first attempt to lie to you.

“Then tell me to stop.” Your reply is simple, but he buffers nonetheless, mouth momentarily opening and closing not unlike a goldfish. “Haechan?”

“Yeah?” he moans—the poor thing couldn’t hold it any longer, you suppose.

“Tell me.”

“Tell you what?” You can’t help but admire his ability to be a brat until the bitter end.

“About your feelings, Haechan,” you drawl sarcastically, Haechan grunting softly before you continue, “I wanna know how you feel.”

“God, fuck,” he hisses when you dip your fingers lower than they’ve gone so far to stroke at the skin just above the base of his cock. “Feels good.” he slurs without thinking and you giggle when he freezes like he’s a deer caught in headlights.

“What was that, Haechan?” you tease quietly, the tip of your nose trailing across his cheek as you move to kiss his jaw.

“It feels good,” he confesses, and you reward his honesty by wrapping your hand around the base of his length and starting to stroke him. It’s a mess of slick arousal and sweat mixed on his shaft and it’s difficult to maintain a good grip on him, but your actions are clearly appreciated with the way he twitches and grows to life in your hand.

Overwhelmed with the sudden pleasure, Haechan noses his way down to your neck to kiss and suck gently at the skin as a way to distract himself.

“Still want to talk about your feelings, Haechan?” you offer, and he takes a moment away from your neck to look up and glower at you.

“I want you to keep moving your hand,” he replies.

You pout. “But your feelings are important.”

“You’re so evil,” Haechan slurs slightly. “I love it.”

“How is it evil to want to discuss your feelings?” you ask curiously, attempting to sound as not guilty as possible.

“You know good and well all I’m thinking about now has nothing to do with that schmuck you tried to piss me off with earlier and everything to do with how you look and feel right now.”

You can’t help but snort in amusement. “Not you calling him a schmuck. Haechan, where’d you even learn that word?”

“Don’t worry your pretty little head about it.”

“But do you know what that even means? How is Jeno a schmuck—?”

Haechan growls under his breath, shifting smoothly to hover on top of you. “Not you repeatedly bringing him up when I’m clearly trying to get over it.”

“Shutting up now.” you nod resolutely, and he snickers, studying your expression with a fond smile before leaning down to kiss you.

You’re not sure if it’s from his being so worked up or your building desire for him, but the kiss shifts the dynamic, Haechan rolling onto his side and urging you to do the same. You can feel the head of his length rhythmically pressing between where your thighs meet as he shamelessly ruts his hips against you and the realization makes between your legs warm, desire slicking your inner thighs.

His tongue gliding past your parted lips draws forth a low whine from you as you let Haechan kiss you however he pleases, content with simply basking in the attention.

Finally growing satisfied with the amount of kisses he’s gotten, Haechan breaks the kiss with a surprisingly lewd, wet smacking noise and nuzzles his nose into the crook of your neck, chuckling softly when you squirm.

“Mm… what if I marked you up?” he mumbles, brushing his lips against your skin. “Fucked with that pretty skin of yours so everyone knows you’re taken?”

You scoff in surprise and amusement. “I’m taken? That’s bold of you, Haechan.”

“Don’t act like you wouldn’t like it,” he retorts, hand sliding up between your legs to tease the skin of your thighs just before your core. “Being mine.” His voice is muffled but his words ring out loud and clear, making you balk as you realize you’re more intrigued by the thought than you initially imagined.

You clear your throat softly before enunciating your next words carefully. “Is she an example of how you treat things you call yours?”

His fingers still and you feel the small warm puff of a sigh—whether it’s defeat or exasperation, you’re unsure—against your neck before he shifts to rest his elbow on the bed and his cheek in his palm. His fingers slowly resume their teasing strokes, dancing up closer to your folds, digits dragging along the wetness smeared on the insides of your thighs.

“She was never really mine, I don’t think.” he muses softly, and you snort, rolling your eyes.

“She’s like the perfect girlfriend.” you reply flatly.

“She’s too nice,” he argues back, and your features contort into confusion as you splutter in incredulity.

“You’re just making up shit!” you counter. “How is she too nice?”

“Hear me out, okay?” Haechan replies, an edge to his voice that leaves you silent and expecting his next words. “She doesn’t make me feel… special.”

“Okay…”

“She’s about as nice to me as she was in the beginning. I don’t feel like,” he pauses, swallowing as he chooses his next words, “she became any more endeared to me. I just got the Girlfriend Package with no upgrades down the line or anything.”

“If you want a real upgrade, you’d have to buy a ring.” You turn your head to look at him with your brows raised and a teasing grin.

“I’m not talking about wifely upgrades!” he clarifies immediately, and you can’t help but laugh. He watches you with a look dangerously close to adoration on his face before he chuckles, shaking his head. “You’re really something.”

“I’m something?” you reply defensively, and he nods slowly, regarding you as if you’re stupid.

“Who called me over here at ass o’clock in the morning to fuck her because she didn’t like how touchy my girlfriend was being earlier?”

“Who came?” you retort, and he narrows his eyes.

“Who did all that before the cum of her last sexcapade had even finished drying inside of her?”

“Who had every chance to shut me down and tell me to move on, hm?”

“Your only rebuttal is that I came over?”

“You chose to come over.” you point out, sitting up to swing your leg over his hips and maneuver yourself into a sitting position on his thighs.

“You used your friend with a sickeningly fat crush on you to make me jealous.”

“Well, you got jealous,” you remind him with a small smug grin. “With a whole girlfriend, too, Haechan—you should be ashamed of yourself.”

“Okay, we’re both something.” he gives in, and you nod, dragging your nails down his chest slowly and relishing the hiss and groan that he lets out. “Now what?”

“What do you think?” you ask softly, your head cocked to the side curiously.

“Are you asking me to leave her for you?” he asks, and the careful way he utters the words makes your skin crawl as you realize that ultimately, that choice will have to happen one way or another.

“No,” you say finally, the word feeling strange on your tongue, almost bitter with deceit. “Just know that the day I ask you to choose between me or her, you will have officially gotten me royally fucked up.”

He snorts in amusement, his hands moving to caress your hips. “Royally, huh?”

“Astronomically.” you stress with a solemn nod. “Egregiously, even.”

“That’s pretty fucked up.” he notes with a growing smile. “Hopefully we don’t get to that point.” He brings one of his hands to yours on his chest and laces his fingers between yours, lifting your entwined hands to his mouth to kiss the heel of your palm and up your inner wrist, your forearm, the crook of your arm, all the while pulling you closer to his mouth, moving your bodies until he’s rolled you over and slotted himself between your legs, lips now exploring the bare flesh of your shoulders, neck, and jaw before slowly moving to kiss you.

He kisses you like he’s savoring the moment, clutching the back of your neck and moving his lips against yours desperately, his tongue seeking solace in the wet warmth of your mouth as he groans lewdly into the kiss.

“Haechan,” you gasp for air when you two part, and he hums sweetly in acknowledgment. “You can’t be seriously going for another round right now.”

“Maybe I am, maybe I’m not.” he replies, shrugging with a small smile. “For now, just be good and let me love on you, baby.”

So you do just that, readily supplying all the pretty moans he urges from your lips and rolling your hips against his wandering fingers as his erection slowly stirs and hardens against your thigh. Every once in a while, however, you can’t shake the growing feeling that everything may be going a bit too well right now—that is, until he pushes into you slowly and draws a gasp from you, your thoughts almost dissipating entirely.

You hope and wish with all your might that this bliss could remain for just a moment longer but you know all too well that good things like this never seem to last.

TA DA!!!!! i hope you enjoyed your read! the fifth part will be up in exactly one week! reminder that (only if you’re able) tips are very much appreciated, as is positive feedback! if you’d like to be added to the taglist, just shoot me an ask and please make sure your privacy settings are updated accordingly!

LINKS: KO-FI // VENMO // CASHAPP // AMAZON WISHLIST // (if you’d like to support via paypal, let me know off anon!!)

DON’T WANNA WAIT TO FINISH THE FIC? it’s available in its entirety on my patreon here!

#haechan smut #nct smut #nct 127 smut #nct dream smut #haechan x reader #donghyuck smut #lee donghyuck smut #donghyuck x reader #lee haechan smut

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wakeup01 · 9 months

Text

Two Twinks, One Wish

“So Charlie, what did you wish for Christmas?”

“Really? Can we just watch the movie?” I say, annoyed.

Daniel had been my boyfriend for about a month now and had recently moved into my flat, just in time for Christmas. Since then things had been a struggle, he would continually whine about my inadequacies - how I didn’t tidy enough, didn’t appreciate him and most of all how I was a terrible top.

See, the problem was, we were both twinks. We had the same skinny body type, with barely any muscle definition. The only real difference being he had the better ass. Admittedly, I had a severe lack of confidence in the bedroom, frequently failing to get in the mood. Daniel on the other hand was very particular about what he liked and what he expected.

“Come on! You must be able to think of something. God knows there’s enough things you can be better at…” Daniel chastised.

Even now he had turned a harmless movie night into another chance to take petty digs. We were on the couch watching some cheesy xmas film, where the protagonist makes wishes that magically come true. Now he was insisting for me to make some stupid wish.

“Why don’t you go first? You seem to have a lot of ideas in mind.” I shoot back, not taking my eyes off the screen.

“Hmm, I got the perfect one! Charlie, I wish… you were a better top!” He laughs and nudges into my shoulder.

I roll my eyes, of course, I should of guessed this is where things were heading. Ugh. Out of nowhere I feel a chill wash over my whole body and a tightness take hold in my chest. After a moment the feeling subsides.

“Very funny. Have you been thinking that one up all night.” My voice dripping in sarcasm.

I shift in my seat slightly, a dull warmth emanating from my crotch. I must be feeling unwell, I’m definitely not being turned on by his degrading remarks. But the heat doesn’t fade, in fact it only grows in intensity. I get the impulse to grope at my growing bulge, the tightness straining against my jeans. Daniel would never live it down If I did, but it was becoming rather uncomfortable.

“You look a little flustered there… ah. I see. Are you really getting horny from this? Christ, you’re pathetic.” Daniel scolds, reaching his hand down.

Before I can object he unzips my trousers and pulls down the waistband of my briefs. My cock bursts forth and slaps against my chest, pre already leaking from it’s tip. Except it’s not my cock, this monster is almost twice my normal size. And my balls are inflating in front of my very eyes.

“What the hell?” I shout.

“Woah, oh shit, it’s working. It’s a Christmas miracle!” He exclaims in barely contained glee.

“Daniel, what did you do!” My voice cracks.

My dick continues to snake up my torso, going from 5 inches, to 7 then to 8. As it grows, so does my hornyness, overpowering my head as I fall into a drunken stupor. This is the most intense erection I’ve ever felt. My hand rubs up and down the entire length and I attempt to wrap my fingers around it, before discovering its girth is now thicker than my hand.

“Nice cock ‘bro’. Good tops are well equipped downstairs. And now, you are too. Hahaha” I look over and see him smirk at me.

He’s enjoying this far too much for my liking, but I’m in no position to fight back. Why did he make that stupid wish, I better not be stuck with this forever. At this point I don’t think my cock would even fit into any underwear I own. How exactly can I walk around with this thing swinging between my legs.

“You know who makes good tops? Jocks. That cocky attitude and carefree nature, coasting through life without thinking.” Daniel suggests, wistfully.

Jocks are also narcissistic morons. And I’m certainly not going to be one just to be a better ‘top’. I’m suddenly distracted by a chafing from my rear, a pair of straps seem to be cupping the cheeks of my tight butt. Below my balls now sits a stained pouch, the smell of musk rising from it hits my nose and I recoil.

“I think it’s jockstraps only from now on Charlie. And woof, sweaty ones at that.”

All of my senses are being overpowered, it’s like my head is in a vice that keeps on tightening. The film in front of me becomes a blur, my focus shattered by the intense pleasure from my new cock.

“Cock.” I blurt out.

I hear Daniel laughing from out of view.

My head is starved of oxygen as all the blood rushes to my groin, I’ve never been this horny before. I feel the strangest sensation as my brain thickens, filling up with throbbing meat. All the space padded out until I’m holding up a heavy dumbbell on the end of my neck. My thoughts were still there, somewhere, but it took so long to find them. It was quicker and easier to just embrace jockdom, stop worrying so much and just go along with the flow. If I was unsure of what to say then bro, I’d just say ‘bro’! A bro can fill in sentences with ‘bro’ and everyone will know what a bro they are. And bro? Being labeled as a dumb bro means no one expects anything meaningful from me. Brawn over brains is the mantra of my life dude.

“Jock’s also like to wear their bro-hood on their sleeves, and in your case, quite literally.”

As soon as the words leave his mouth I feel a sharp pain, as if a hundred needles are stabbing down my arm. I brace myself before glancing down. And there it was, 🍖 the meat emoji tattooed on my left hand. Huhhuh, awesome bro. Branded a meathead for life.

“Bro?” I ask slowly, my voice now considerably deeper.

“Yeah ‘Chad?’” Daniel emphasises.

The name immediately sticks to me like glue. Chad. I am such a Chad. I have some distant recollection of being someone else, but I can’t be bothered to search my brain for it. There’s a more pressing concern.

“Bruh, I need to empty my balls.” I grunt. The pressure from my engorged member becoming unbearable.

“Then you know what to do. Good muscle tops have their cocks milked every day.”

I grip my cock and begin pumping in earnest, my jaw hanging open. As I masturbate, my hands and arms bulk up with muscle. I see my veins very noticeably pop out. I feel a desperate urge to flex, letting one hand go from my dick. I ball it into a fist and raise it to the side of my head, squeezing my biceps. My arm pulses with meat, sending a vain satisfaction to my pleasure center.

“Good dumb tops spend all their time in the gym or on the field. Sculpting their body into the perfect chiselled shape.” His nasally voice instructs.

Muscle continues to form all over my lithe frame; my shoulders broaden and my chest ripples into a tight 6 pack. My clothes are loudly ripped to shreds. Memories enter my head of spending hours working out, of hanging with the other jocks and forming a vacant facade of a personality. Sweat drips from my hairy armpits, staining the couch under me. The room quickly starts smelling like a gym, my rank feet tearing free from my socks. My face cracks as it squares out into a more defined outline, brow growing heavy above my distant eyes. My body is now taking up most of the couch as Daniel budges over to the side. I quicken my pace, pumping now with both hands. My balls tighten.

“Fuck yeah brah.” I roar, reaching climax.

My cock spurts rope after rope of musky cum directly at my face, I’m left covered in my own seed. Daniel leans over to me and begins to eagerly lick at my face. He savours my taste on his tongue before swallowing. The sign of an expert bottom, huhuhu.

“Mmm. Great Tops know how to take control. And you’re a great top Chad.” Daniel moans in lust.

He’s right.

“Dude, this film is fucking dull. I’m changing to the sports channel bro. There’s a sick game playing today.” My hands take the remote and switch to a noisy football game.

I grab Daniels’s tiny little body and force him onto my lap. I flex again and push his face into my armpit. His tongue drags along my wiry dank hair. He moves his hand between my legs and starts passionately fingering his hungry ass hole, using my cum as lube. I hear him panting heavily like a dog. Man, my boyfriend is such a whiny brat…

“Bro, it’s my turn.” My cocky voice booms.

“What?” I hear his muffled voice cry out.

“Uhh… I wish… I wish you were a Bro like me, Bro.” I smirk.

“Wait, noooo!” He screams.

His body shudders and contorts as I hold his face to my pits with my newfound strength. He packs on pounds of muscle in a matter of seconds. Dan’s moaning turns to grunts. He’s going to make for such a Good. Arrogant. Dumb. Bro.

I watch his dong stretch down his leg, his balls sagging between his thickening thighs. The head of Dan’s veiny cock leaking like a faucet. A pair of juicy pecs push out from his chest and his adam apple swells. I pull away the remains of his clothes, letting them fall to the ground.

Dan’s dainty feet beef up to a size 12, sweat gathering between his toes - smelling like a real man should. I feel his previously fat bubble butt tense with lean muscle on my lap. With a squeak, his thoroughly abused fuck hole tightens shut, never to be stretched open again. He only tops after all, like me.

I release my grip on him and he pulls away, my sweat covering his square jawed face. He stuffs his junk into a jockstrap, looking barely concealed as it throbs with need. His messy hair has receded into a clean as fuck buzzcut. We now look almost identical, except that his meat emoji 🍖 tattoo is engraved on his right hand.

“Bro!” Dan’s voice deepens.

“Let’s go find some sluts to breed, bro.” We both smirk at each other and flex.

#transformation #gay #jock #brainwashing

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hitomisuzuya · 5 months

Note

hi suzu, hope you’re doing well :3

May I ask a Scara x reader smut which has a flat chest? Like maybe we’re trying out a new lingerie that we bought to “please” him but we’re thinking that’s it does not look pretty on us..

Hope it’s clear..💥

Scaramouche x fem!reader. Smut. Nipple play. Clit stimulation/rubbing.

No worries, you were perfectly clear. Thank you for your patience😳

Feelings of inadequacy spread like a plague. Lately, you'd been noticing that some women were a bit more..chesty than you. And it made you think, like really think: was your chest too small for Scaramouche?

You'd brought up what he called nonsense three days ago, and today, much to his annoyance, he'd hardly seen hide nor hair of you. Once he arrived home, he could the bedroom light on underneath the crack of the door.

Scaramouche put a hand on the door knob, and started to open the door, only to have you push it shut abruptly. "No, don't come in here yet. In fact, don't come in here at all," He heard your nervous little voice behind the door.

"I'm coming in," He said simply, his eyes narrowed in annoyance. He put his hand on the doorknob, sighing when it wouldn't turn. You had your hand on it.

"No," You said vehemently.

Scaramouche decided to play a little dirty. "Look, I had a long day, and I just want to see you," That's all he ever wanted really. He took his hand off the knob and waited. He could practically hear your knees getting weak during the brief silence.

"Okay, just give me one second," You said, taking your hand off the doorknob, and attempted to make a break for the bed to hide under the covers.

However, Scaramouche hardly gave you any time. No sooner had you turned around his hand caught your wrist, stopping you. His indigo eyes slowly wandered up and down your body. There you stood, trying to wiggle out of his grasp in lacy black lingerie.

Scaramouche made circular motion with his index finger. "Turn," He commanded simply.

"Sc-Scara! No!" You protested. You couldn't control your hammering heart in your chest, and the sudden fear he was judging as your chest size.

"Turn, brat" You looked so cute all flustered and shy that he couldn't help but poke at you a little. He knew what this was about. How thoughtful of you to gift wrap yourself in a bow for him before he proved that he could never resist your breasts.

He licked his lips as he turned you in a circle. The words tumbled out of your mouth all at once. "I got this because I wanted to surprise you. But I don't think it-"

Scaramouche did not want to hear the next words out of your mouth. He touched a finger to your lips. "You look delectable," Putting his hands on your shoulders, he gently snapped one of your bra straps on your shoulder as he backed you up towards the bed.

"Are you sure my chest is big enough for you?" It didn't seem like he really heard you though. His gaze was focused right on your chest as he pushed you back onto the bed.

"I hope if you mind if I just," Scaramouche said as he crawled over you. Your eyes widened when you heard the flimsy fabric of your bra tear, "get rid of this. It's in the way," He carelessly tossed it onto the floor. He would buy you three more. Your breasts just cupped so perfectly in that bra. It made him twice as eager to get his hands, and his mouth on them.

"These," His hands folded around your bare breasts, giving them a long, thorough grope, "are perfect. Shall I show you," He leaned down, sweeping his tongue slowly over your nipple. He looked up at you, smirking when he saw you shiver. "How much I appreciate them?"

You let out a shaky sigh as his tongue swirled slowly around your nipple. When it started to harden into a sensitive nub on his tongue, he took it into his mouth to suck on.

He trailed his hand down your stomach, goosebumps raising in their wake. He prodded his tongue on your nipple, sending jolts of pleasure to your swelling clit. His hand slipped into your panties. He parted your folds, gathering your juices on his fingers.

Your back arched off the bed, louder moans sounding from you as his fingers found your clit. Any anxiety about your insecurities melted away, and you felt yourself relaxing and surrendering him in the way he always enjoyed.

One of your hands closed around the blankets, the other shaking as you put it on the back of his head. You pressed his mouth down onto your breast, your hips rolling up to grind into his fingers.

Scaramouche groaned against your breast, drool pooling between them as he sucked. His fingers danced wet and adept on your clit, rolling it between the pads of his fingers.

"That's my good girl," He purred his praise, taking his mouth off your nipple to turn his attention to the other one. "Let me appreciate them while I make you cum."

You gasped in pleasure as he flicked your other nipple, pinching it as he watched you writhe. Your body twitched with pleasure, your senses overwhelmed. You didn't know what you wanted to do. Grind against his fingers or arch your chest up into his mouth?

Every rub and pinch on your clit was beginning to send you reeling. He took your nipple in his mouth, increasing the pace of his fingers. He was determined to make you cum hard from just sucking on your nipples, spurring your orgasm on as he rubbed your clit.

Your pussy clenched as Scaramouche reased the tips of his fingers your entrance before sweeping them back up to your clit. "Don't you realize how fucking perfect you are?" He moaned, his cock throbbing and straining in his shorts.

No sooner had he said those words your orgasm suddenly broke over you. His tongue licked and swirled around your nipple, sighing content seeing your tremble from your orgasm.

He stroked and rubbed your clit to nurse you through your orgasm. Now he hoped this nonsense was put to rest.

#genshin impact #genshin smut #fem!reader #genshin imagines #scaramouche #scaramouche smut #scaramouche x reader #scaramouche x y/n #scaramouche x you

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cevansbrat0007 · 5 months

Text

The Do-Over

Summary: Everyone deserves a second chance, including jerks like Bounty Hunter, Ari Levinson. Takes place directly after the events in Hello, Duchess.

Warnings: Mature Themes, Ari Being A Menace, Bucky Barnes, A Deep Love of Clark Bars, Light Groveling, Bickering, Discussions of Grief, Threats of Violence, Gentle Manhandling, Brief References to Negative Body Image, Cursing, Minors DNI

A/N: Special thanks to my creative consultant, @curls-and-eyeliner. Part my Sweet Renegade Series. Semi-proofread, not beta'd. All mistakes are my own. Likes, comments, and reblogs are always appreciated. Thanks for reading!

An annoyed Ari takes a pull from his cigarette as he listens to his friend and fellow combat vet give him shit all the way from his office back in New Mexico. As soon as this was over, he was going to ditch this empty parking lot to find himself an ice cold beer and a goddamned steak.

He was officially ready to put this day behind him. But first he needed a decent dinner.

“So let me see if I’ve got this right.” His friend begins, now that he’d finally stopped cursing up a blue streak. “Do you really mean to tell me that you took our best lead, which just so happened to be the perp’s girlfriend, and fucked it all to hell?”

Okay, but just because that’s what happened doesn't necessarily mean that it was actually his fault. He’d just been a little off his game.

“Hey Buck, don’t take this the wrong way, but you’re beginning to sound as dramatic as Rogers.”

“Steve would never fuck-up something this big for us.” He could practically hear the man flipping him off.

“I’m telling you this girl would’ve cut off Golden Boy’s balls and fed them to him for breakfast, okay?” He takes another puff, flicking some of the excess ash out his driver-side window. “Trust me.”

“Hold on.” An exasperated Bucky sighs into the receiver before placing the phone on his desk to speak to whoever had just walked into his office. He hoped whoever it was had better news than he did, otherwise he feared his old war buddy might have an aneurysm.

Sometimes he got the impression that Sergeant James “Bucky” Barnes was wound a little too tight.

The silence drags on as Ari contemplates getting out of his car to stretch his legs. It’s another several minutes before Bucky is back on the line, and this time he sounds positively exhausted.

“We can’t afford to lose this one, man. Westbrook might be a piece of shit, but he’s an expensive piece of shit. So while I don’t care how you feel about the girl, you need to make things right. She could have some valuable intel.”

“Yeah, I know.” His mood darkens as he flicks the cigarette onto the pavement. As he watches it hit the ground, he finds himself wondering if it was finally time to quit the cancer sticks altogether. It’s not like he hadn’t thought about it before.

“Besides, what do you care if she was Westbrook’s fuck buddy?” Ari’s treated to the sound of his friend unwrapping something that sounded suspiciously like a candy bar. There was only one person who was known to keep that stuff at the office.

Which meant that shit had better not come from his personal stash, otherwise Bucky Barnes was a fucking dead man.

“I don’t.” Ari growls, sucking on his teeth. “And that had better not be a Clark Bar you’re eatin'.”

“Hate to break it to ya, pal. But based on what you told me earlier, it kinda sounds like you might.” There’s an unmistakable sound of a grin in his voice, which irks the bounty hunter to no end.

“And I think it’s finally time you got your hearing checked, old man.” He growls back, although his words lack any real fire.

“As for your precious Clark Bars,” he continues. “See, normally I’d pass on ‘em. But Pixie’s been on a health kick lately and she threw out all the junk food. So, I’m desperate.” Bucky gives an exaggerated groan. “Plus, she has no idea about your stash.”

“Jesus.” Ari grumbles, firing up his engine with the intent to head back to the house he was currently renting. “I really wish you two would just suck face already and get it over with.”

“Mind your fucking business, Levinson.”

“Then keep your filthy hands off my fuckin’ Clark Bars, Barnes.” There’s a heavy sigh on the other line, prompting Ari to roll his eyes. All he wanted was for this conversation to fucking end.

“Look.” Bucky grunts. “You bring down this Westbrook fucker and I’ll buy you a goddamned case of those stupid bars. Alright?”

“You got yourself a deal.” Turning on his truck, Ari slowly heads for the exit as his stomach begins to rumble. Maybe he’d track down some shrimp to go with that steak.

“And fix whatever it is you fucked up with that bookstore broad while you’re at it.”

“I’ll do my best.” He grimaces as his mind treats him to images of you threatening him with your taser. “But if that little spitfire puts me in the hospital you’re footin’ the bill.” And with that, Ari hangs up the phone.

As of now, he was officially done for the night.

A Few Days Later…

You’re sitting on the floor of your stockroom when you hear the tinkling of bells signaling the arrival of a customer. Groaning as you rise to your feet, you wipe your palms on the fabric of your pants and head to the front of the store.

Business had been unusually slow today, so hopefully this patron - whoever they were - would be in the mood to buy something. As you were driving in this morning, you’d briefly considered holding another sale. Maybe it was time for another book fair. That seemed to be pretty popular the last time you’d done it.

You’re in the middle of making a mental note to reach out to the local librarian when your eyes land on the absolute last person you wanted to see standing in your lobby: Ari Levinson.

Not this guy again.

“Yeah, it’s me.” He says, offering up an unapologetic shrug as he takes in the sight of you in your form-fitting yoga pants.

Apparently you’d spoken out loud. Perhaps if you kept doing it, the man would eventually get offended enough to leave. Wishful thinking at its finest.

When the intruder realizes you don’t plan on speaking again, he decides to take advantage of the silence by doing something completely unexpected.

“I just dropped by to, uh…” He takes a deep breath, rocking back on his heels. “Apologize for how our last meeting went. While it wasn’t my intention to insult you, I know that I did.” One big hand comes up to massage the back of his neck. “Just wanted to offer that, for whatever it’s worth.”

“Oh. Wow.” You reply dumbly, crossing your arms over your chest. For whatever reason, you got the distinct impression that he didn’t make apologies often.

“You’re right, sweetheart. I don’t.” His lips turn up in an awkward grin as he takes a step toward you. “But a real man knows how to own up to his shit, which is exactly what I’m doin right now.”

“Okay.”

Mouth suddenly dry, you go to take a step back, only to find that your legs no longer work. Next thing you know, Ari is in your space, his boot clad feet are now mere centimeters from your well-loved sneakers as he towers over you.

He holds out his hand as a gesture of goodwill, silently imploring you to take it. Your eyes lock with his as yours moves on its own accord – almost as if you’d been entranced.

Your hand feels so small and delicate in his grasp. And for a second, you wonder what it might be like to lace your fingers together. How it would feel to hold onto him so intimately for just a few seconds longer. You sneak a glance up at Ari, only to watch as his pupils dilate, his nostrils flaring just slightly. It’s enough to let you know that you’re not the only one affected.

“You think we might be able to try this again?” His deep baritone washes over you like a balm. “You have my word I’ll do a much better job of, uh, keeping myself in check.”

Yanking your hand away, all you can do is nod. Part of you almost wished the man would go back to acting like an asshole. At least then you would know how to handle him. This so-called charming and apologetic Ari was a different beast entirely.

“I–” You swallow thickly. “Yes, that’s fine.”

“Thank you for your kindness.” His easy smile has the nerve to do funny things to the butterflies in your belly. “And while I would hate to do anything that might spoil this good will, I would like to ask you a couple of questions right now.”

Instantly suspicious, you open your mouth to deliver a curt “no”. However, having already anticipated this, Ari is quick to amend his request by promising not to be too invasive. He also insists that he’ll follow your lead.

“If at any moment you want to stop, we’ll stop. You have my word on that too, darlin’.” He surveys the room, absentmindedly scratching at his jaw. “You good with me ensuring we have a little privacy?” Again you nod, wanting to get this over with as quickly as possible.

Because at this point, it just didn’t make sense to kick the man out. Especially not when he seemed to be taking great pains to be respectful. You could only hope that he’d appreciate your cooperation enough to go bother someone else when you were through.

Maybe it might be worth leading him back towards someone who’d actually appreciate his attention. Someone like your would-be frenemy, Charline Marshall.

Seemingly encouraged by your response, the invasive bounty hunter hustles towards the door so that he could flip your sign from open to closed. And, unbeknownst to him, it also gives you a chance to begrudgingly appreciate just how good his ass looks in his Levi’s.

Alright. So maybe you’d hold off on feeding Ari Levinson to Charline and her disciples – at least for right now.

“You know.” You cough, needing to give yourself a moment to recalibrate before you said or did something dumb. “I actually just remembered that I needed to fix a couple of things around the shop during my lunch break.”

An unruffled Ari simply smiles and winks back at you. “Thought you said you believed in your ability to multitask?”

You resist the urge to stick your tongue out at the smug bastard. Because he was right. You absolutely had said that. And then he’d had the gall to fucking listen.

“Fine.” Shooting him a glare, you head over to the counter and toe-off your shoes.

“Appreciate it, darlin’.”

Just like last time, out comes his pen and tiny notebook. He flips it open to a new page before giving you his full attention. Meanwhile, you’re now hellbent on acting like he doesn’t exist.

“How long have you owned your shop, Baubles & Quills?”

If you were to look in his eyes at that moment, you would’ve seen them shining with genuine inquisitiveness. Almost as if he actually wanted to get to know you.

“A few years.” You reply, bracing your hands on the flat surface of the desk. “I spent a large part of my childhood here, buried amongst books. My uncle left it to me when he passed. But I’m sure you already knew that.”

Taking a deep breath, you send up a silent prayer to the Lord asking him not to let you fall before hefting yourself onto the counter with all the grace you can muster.

“Maybe.” Ari concedes while jotting something down on his notepad. “But it’s different coming from – just what the hell are you doin’ woman?!”

“Checking out this light fixture.” You huff as you work to steady yourself.

“Any reason you couldn’t do that from the ground?” The bounty hunter surprises you by sounding more than a little stressed.

Confused by his response, you manage to spare a quick glance in his direction. Although your unlikely companion looks less than happy, you fail to fully grasp the nature of the problem.

“Because I couldn’t quite tell if this whole panel was out, or just the one little section.”

“Alright, well…” He drags an agitated hand through his already messy brown locks. “Now that you’ve seen it, how about you come on down from there?”

“Oh my goodness, Levinson.” An exasperated chuckle bubbles its way from your throat. “It’s just the counter. Save the freakout for when you find me on the flippin’ roof or something.”

“You’re standin’ on the damned thing wearin’ nothing but socks. It’s like you’re askin’ to fall.”

“Oh, don’t be so dramatic.”

“How the hell is my expressin’ concern about your safety bein’ dramatic?”

“Next question, buddy.” You have to bite the inside of your cheek to keep from laughing at the affronted look on the bounty hunter’s gorgeous face.

Ari forces himself to take a breath before attempting to return back to the task at hand. “I have it here that your Uncle is the late Lenny Barstowe. He was, by all accounts, an upstanding pillar of this community.”

“He was.” You agree, bending down to grab the duster resting near your feet.

“You say he was your uncle, and yet you two don’t share the same last name.” He frowns when he notices your slight wobble.

And for the tenth time in almost as many minutes he finds himself wondering why the fuck you didn’t hire someone to take care of shit like this for you? Hell, give him a ladder and a free afternoon and he’d handle things himself.

“Wow. Nothing gets past you.” You sniff, trying to fight back a sneeze as dust goes flying. “They teach you those observation skills in private detective school?”

“Sure did.” Ari snorts without missing a beat, tucking the pen behind his ear. “First thing on the syllabus, in fact.”

“Thought so.”

“So glad we cleared that up.”

You can’t stop the small thrill that courses through you when you notice the newfound tick in his jaw. If you weren’t careful, you could find yourself growing addicted to that little zing in your blood. To that tiny spike in your pulse you felt every time you two sparred.

“But if we could go back to your uncle, I’m sure losing him had to be hard – what with him being your only family.” He takes a turn fanning himself with his notebook. ”Was your friend, Martin, there for you during that difficult time?”

That particular question actually makes you pause and reflect. You’d been so lost in grief back then, which is part of the reason it had taken you so long to claw your way out of that dark hole. And, if memory served, you’d done that majority of that clawing on your own.

“I’m sure he was around, Mr. Levinson.” Your answer sounds cagey, even to your own ears. “But I pretty much wore my grief like a sweater back then. And if I’m being honest, those first few months after losing him were nothing but a miserable haze.”

“I know the feeling.” He murmurs as he scribbles on the page.

“Look.” You blow out a breath as you attempt to gauge the distance between the desk and the ground. As of this moment, you officially regretted not grabbing your step stool. “I don’t know where Martin is or who he’s running from. All I know is that he was scared, but he refused to tell me anything more, okay?”

“Did he ask you for money?”

“Yes.”

He’d also called you too. And while you choose to keep that little detail to yourself, you figure there was no harm in telling him about the money. At the time you’d had no idea you were potentially aiding and abetting a criminal. Or maybe you just hadn’t wanted to believe it.

“And did you give it to him?” The intense look in his beautiful blue eyes has you suddenly feeling foolish.

“Yes.”

It’s that one word, spoken barely above a whisper, that leaves Ari shaking his head. His gaze drops to the ground as he works to rein-in his temper. You have no idea what a struggle it is for him to do so – because he’s not upset with you.

If anything, you’d just given him one more reason to run that slippery motherfucker into the goddamned ground.

“How much did he get you for?” Even though Ari has calmed himself considerably, his tone still comes off harsher than he intends.

“Almost $500.” You tell him, your face hot with embarrassment. “I suppose I should’ve asked more questions. You probably think I’m an idiot for –”

“It’s okay, darlin’.” He swiftly interjects, not wanting you to get upset. “You’re doin’ so great bein’ honest with me right now.” Unsure of what else to do, he tosses his notebook aside in favor of reaching for your hand. “I know this shit ain’t easy.”

“I think I’m done for now.” You tell him, doing your best to avoid looking at your now joined hands. God, he really needed to stop doing that. “Please.”

“Okay.” He readily agrees as his thumb strokes along the ridge of your knuckles. “Then we’re done.” You watch his Adam’s apple bob up and down as he swallows. “Are you gonna let me help you down off the counter before you kick me out?”

“It’s okay. Don’t want you to hurt yourself.” You mumble as you busy yourself with trying to figure out the easiest way to sit and scootch your way out of your current situation.

The last thing you needed was this man accidentally throwing out his back over some misplaced chivalry.

To his credit, Ari decides to ignore your feeble protests. “C’mon and let me help you.” He repeats, gesturing for you to step towards the edge of the counter so that he can grab you by the waist. “And then I’ll be on my way.”

“Really, I’m fine.” You attempt to swat at his hands, which doesn’t actually work.

“C’mon, darlin’.” He assures you gently. “Just trust me.” The next thing you know, you’re suddenly being lifted into the air. “I got you.”

“Ack – I’m too heavy!” You squeal, immediately caught off guard by the way your legs briefly dangle in the air. Try as you might, you honestly could not remember the last time a man had picked you up.

Your heart speeds up as he effortlessly sets you down on your feet, allowing your body to slide down the solid wall of his chest. Instinctively, your hands fly to his biceps in an effort to steady yourself.

“Thank you.” You’re suddenly having a hard time breathing around this man. “But you really shouldn’t have done that. You could’ve hurt –”

“Sweetheart, you ain’t nothin’ but a feather.” Ari rumbles, his hands still resting firmly on your hips.

“Somehow I doubt that.” You whisper, knowing that you should demand that he let you go. Except your body is too busy buzzing to actually cooperate.

“Happy to prove you wrong any time.” While you suspect that he hadn’t really meant to say that, his smile is full of promise. “But right now, I’m afraid I’ve gotta head out.” Although it still takes another second for him to release you.

Not that you’re complaining any. Which deep down you know could spell trouble for you.

Before he leaves, however, Ari reaches into the front pocket of his jeans to hand you what looks a lot like a business card. “What’s this?” You mentally smack yourself in the forehead the moment the question leaves your mouth.

“My card.” He responds as he now heads toward the door. “That’s my cell, just in case you need it.”

“Oh.”

“Call any time, day or night.” Ari’s gruff, no-nonsense tone goes straight to your core. “You remember somethin’ about Martin? Call me. You lookin’ for someone to stand guard while you lock up at night? Call me. You need to hear a friendly voice in the dark? Fucking call me.”

His offer takes you by surprise. So much so, that you’re temporarily rendered speechless as you clutch the stiff piece of paper in your palm. While you weren’t sure if you’d ever take him up on his offer, you could certainly appreciate his generosity.

“Thank you.” You rasp, your teeth going to nibble at your bottom lip.

“Any time, Duchess.” His head dips politely as he exits through the front door. “I’m sure I’ll see you around.”

And just like that he was gone, which meant you could finally breathe normally again. Strange butterflies once again fill your belly as you take your time examining the card your bounty hunter had left behind. While you weren’t sure if you’d ever call him, you decide it’s worth tucking into a zippered pocket in your purse before getting on with the rest of your day.

Little did you know that you would come to need that tiny piece of paper sooner rather than later…

END

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musings-of-a-college-dork · 1 year

Text

First Time With Someone Like You…

Eddie Munson x fem!Reader, brief mentions of Billy x reader

Word count: roughly 10.1K

Eddie and his girlfriend finally put a label on it at last and now they’re feeling ready to take another new step together.

Warnings: NSFW (Minors do not interact), oral (f receiving), protected p in v sex, mentions of kinky shit but no kinky shit, reader’s first time having sex, inexperienced reader, terms of endearment (baby, pretty girl, sweetheart), AFTERCARE INCLUDED BECAUSE YES, fluffy sweet sex.

Author’s note: I got a message the other day from @wdsara48 sending some very sweet thoughts about Bumpy Ride which is my other NSFW piece currently published and asking if I had ever written Eddie with an inexperienced reader and yes I have! This is that piece! It's again part of the same longer work that most of my Eddie stuff is from! Anyway it's on the longer side and I hope you all enjoy!

The Hideout was never a big spot, never drew a big crowd, but recently Corroded Coffin had managed to get a bigger gig - a going away party for a good friend of Gareth’s. The group had all banded together in order to make sure their setlist was flawless, down to a t, and needless to say, it had paid off.

Corroded Coffin had just finished their rendition of “Jessie’s Girl”, which had left the crowd more than satisfied and their pockets heavier than usual as they began packing up their belongings. Music blared over the speakers, although it was nothing compared to them live. Eddie was also a little stoked on the premise that his girlfriend was here - something that always made him excited. Up until this point, they had never said the words to each other and had never put an official title on it but now…tonight they were ready to introduce her to the band as the girlfriend. People were still laughing and talking, but Y/N and her friend Jude who she had come with weren’t quite ready for the party to be over.

“Hey Y/Nnnnnn”, Jude sang as they ran up and poked their friend. “Jonathan’s going to drive Nancy, Robin, and I home. Do you want to come?”

“Oh,” Y/N said as she looked between her friend and the boy she was now thrilled to call her boyfriend, before shaking her head, “Thank you but…I think I have other plans. I appreciate it though! Have fun! And be safe!” She tacked on to the end despite herself. Jude engulfed her in one last hug.

“You little freak “ they whispered, before heading out the door with the rest of their friends. Eddie was closing his guitar case and walked over to the bar to collect a few last donations people had left for the band. Once he gathered his money, he smiled and jogged to Y/N.

“Hey you”, he looked down at her.

“Hey there yourself,” she laughed as she took one of his hands into hers, “You put on a remarkable show Munson. Really.” He blushed.

“What can I say?,” He took a pause before asking, “Seriously, what can I even say to you right now? I’m getting so distracted.”

“Maybe brief introductions to your bandmates who I don’t know and then…” Y/N had to take a little breath to gain the courage to ask, “We go back to yours?” Eddie looked into her eyes with disbelief. He grabbed her hand and started fiddling with her fingers out of nerves.

“For sure, yeah. They’ve been dying to meet you”, he said absent-mindedly, as he pulled her over to the boys sitting on the stage. “Hey fellas, there’s someone I want for you to meet”, Eddie beamed. Y/N stood at his side, his hand still in hers as she gained the attention of his bandmates.

“Hi, I’m Y/N. I’m Eddie’s girlfriend.” God did it feel good to say it at last. The band stood in stillness.

This stillness lasted for eternity.

Gareth and Jeff looked at each other, trying too hard to hide their smile. Finally, Harrison broke the silence.

“Wow…” he cleared his throat. “ That’s… excuse me….that’s really cool.”

“Yeah, it’s nice to finally meet this girl that Eddie hasn’t been able to shut up about, since the beginning of summer,” Jeff reached out to shake her hand. Y/N let go of Eddie’s hand to return it only for Eddie to take the free hand on the other side of her with a little squeeze.

“It’s equally as nice to meet his wonderful bandmates at last,” Y/N said, returning the hand squeeze with one of her own.

“Honestly we thought he was making you up,” leaned Harrison, who leaned on the mic stand in order to properly shake his head.

“Oh really?” Y/N laughed as she looked at Eddie, “He made me sound too good to be true?”

“You would not believe it. He said you were hotter than Phobe Caits,” Jeff laughed. “Which you actually are,” Eddie turned to face Jeff with a look on his face that spelled out danger, “Respectfully,” Jeff modified with his hands up in the air.

“No one is actually hotter than Phobe Caits,” Y/N said with a smile, “But I appreciate the compliment. Well, I don’t mean to keep you all from cleaning up, let me know if I can help but if not, I’ll just wait until you’re done.”

“Hey, no worries at all. Just enjoy the music, we’d be happy to give you a ride home,” Harrison said.

“Considering that I am the one that drove you gentlemen here, I’ll be the one to offer,” Eddie said with a hint of agitation in his voice. He faced Y/N and winked. “The ride offer is also extended to you. We won’t be very long. Right men?”

“Right,” they barked. Y/N decided to let them work and headed to take a seat at the bar until they were done packing up, enjoying the people still partying around her. It wasn’t very long at all before Eddie slid up next to her.

“Hey,” he tucked a piece of her hair behind her ear, “Just so you know I didn’t do anything tonight. Like, I’m sober. In case you wanted a ride home. Scout’s honor,” he smiled and put up his hand. “And I am totally down for if you want to come over, but if you….” he faded.

“I really would like to if you want,” Y/N said softly, “I am sober too. I had half a drink and called it quits and…I want that but only if you do.”

“Legendary,” he chuckled. He took her hand. “By the way, my van smells like armpits because of those little shits. Just so we’re clear,” he led her to the door of the bar. He took her hand and led her out of the bar and towards his van parked at the very edge of the parking lot.

“And the smell of weed?” Y/N teased completely as she enjoyed their hands swinging back and forth together.

“Yeah…that’s me,” he chuckled as they got closer to the car. “You don’t mind it too much?”

“It’s ok, I’ll just have to sit closer to you since I like the smell of your cologne,” she smiled, making his heartbeat pick up.

“Damn,” he opened the car door for her, and offered his help, “you’re making me feel like a princess tonight.”

“Simply trying to return the favor since you always make me feel that way,” she beamed at him as she got in the car before the rest of the band brought their stuff out and began loading it in. He shut the door gently behind her and continued to hold her hand through the window. He kissed her hand gingerly and then simply leaned against the rearview mirror, gazing at her. He completely ignored his band’s cries for help and complained. He just sat and looked at her.

“Nice view?” She asked without looking at him. He said nothing. He lost his smile. His face turned into something else. Before Y/N knew it, he was kissing her more passionately and carefully than she had ever been kissed.

“EDDDDIIIIIEEEEE” the band cried together. He parted from her regretfully and took one last look in her eyes before he continued onto the driver's side. Y/N was absolutely breathless as she processed it with all her fingertips coming up to trace over her lips. Eddie was opening the driver’s side door before she knew it and she had long forgotten his bandmates were present.

“Do me a favor baby and buckle up,” he said as he reached over and buckled Y/N’s seatbelt for her before not buckling his own, “it’s gonna be a bit of a rough ride.”

“Hey Eddie, are there seat belts back here?” asked Harrison.

“Nope.” Eddie turned on the ignition and pulled out of the space, “Clench your butt cheeks to the seats and shut the hell up!”

Eddie drove as recklessly as possible, having absolutely no regard for the safety of his fellow bandmates… only becoming careful when he remembered Y/N was in the car.

“Get out” he would say as he pulled up to their house.

“I had fun Eddie,” they would say sheepishly.

“Out!”

Finally, when the last member had been dropped off, Y/N could watch the tension leave Eddie’s shoulders.

“They’re good friends, huh?” She asked.

“They are,” Eddie pulled his van into reverse and sped off the road towards his castle, “They’re young and can be idiots though.”

The pair fell into a comfortable silence until Eddie deemed that as usual, he had something more he needed to say.

“I am beyond proud to be your boyfriend,” He started making Y/N smile, “But I think, for your sake, we should come up with some kind of protocol. I’m not sure if you’d want anyone else to know that we were dating. It could ruin your reputation.” Y/N looked over at him as he drove, processing for a minute.

“Respectfully, Eddie, I don’t care about my reputation. But…I do understand if you care about yours,” she said honestly, “I mean having me as your girlfriend kinda ruins the scary guy who hates everyone thing you’ve got going.”

Eddie shook his head and gripped her thigh tighter. “Believe me, if I had things my way I wouldn’t be thought of as scary. People just fear what they can’t understand. And for everyone else in this dumb hick town, I am an enigma.” He pulled into a lot that had multiple trailers and drove slowly. He pulled up to his Uncle’s trailer and turned off his headlights. “I’m saying that it could be potentially dangerous for you. You could be the target of a lot of hate and gossip. Just promise me you will think about this….” Y/N felt her heart break for him just a tiny bit as she looked at him. Taking his face into her hands and turning her to look at him she nodded.

“I will. I promise,” she placed a soft kiss on his cheek which made him melt, “Thank you for taking care of me.”

“I got you,” He murmured softly, “Always.” Y/N beamed as she leaned over and kissed him on the lips gently before pulling away. He let out a light giggle before he practically leapt out of the car and scurried to open her door for her. “M'lady," he offered her his hand. She giggled as she took it and allowed him to help her out of the car, shutting the door behind her.

“Thanks, Eddie.”

“It’s actually Sir Eddie, to be precise, Lady L/N '', he led her to the front door, puffing his chest out to be the most chivalrous version of himself that he could be.

“Yes sir,” Y/N said with a laugh as she headed up the steps to stand beside him. Hearing this gave Eddie superhuman strength and he bounded up the stairs to open the door for him. Good to note, Y/N thought to herself.

“Just so you know, my Uncle works nights and I think he’s staying with his girlfriend tonight,” Eddie opened the door and bowed to let her in first.

“That’s probably for the best,” Y/N said as she stepped inside. She admired the place, the hats that lined the walls, the countertop filled with stuff, and how warm it felt instantly, the warm lighting making her feel at ease. “I mean… never mind,” she cut herself off and stepped fully inside, pushing nerves and fear of saying the wrong thing aside.

“Sorry about the mess,” Eddie said as he moved some things here and there as Y/N continued to take it all in. She thought for a split second he maybe hadn’t heard her remark from before but as he turned to her she knew he had, “And don’t make me laugh. You know what we’re about to do”, he grabbed her hand and pulled her to the left of the trailer into the far right room. “This is me”, he opened the door for her, revealing his bedroom.

“Wow,” Y/N said, admiring how eclectic it was. The walls were crammed with stuff and despite things being fairly clean, she could tell the place was usually messy.

Maybe I wasn’t the only one hoping for this, Y/N thought as she looked around, admiring the photos and band posters as she stepped all the way into Eddie’s room, missing that he closed the door behind and leaned against it as he watched her. Without thinking much about it she pointed to the blank spot on the wall which was remarkably out of place with the rest of the decor.

“For your guitar?” She asked.

“Oh yeah!” He nodded as he took a step off the wall, his eyes trained on Y/N, “You should meet her sometime. Her name’s Roxie and she has the clarity of an angel. But she’s out in the van and…. I don’t feel like she’s my main focus right now”, he grabbed her waist and pulled her in so that her back was pressed against his chest drawing a gasp from her as he moved her hair to expose her neck to him, “No offense Roxie,” he whispered before placing a kiss on Y/N’s neck softly and delicately to test the waters.

“Very respectful of you to leave her in the van when having another woman over,” Y/N teased as she leaned into him, head tilting back to rest on his chest, giving him permission to continue. He smirked and complied leaving another, and another.

“She’s a strong and independent woman. I guess I have a type”, he said as his hands slid down her waist, giving a little squeeze to her hips. “I’d never leave you in a car though, to be clear,” Y/N laughed out loud as she slipped off her jacket.

“I appreciate it,” She said as she turned to face him. “Eddie, I just want to say if you have any hesitati-”. He picked her up between her legs and threw her on the bed. She would have bounced but before she could Eddie wrapped his arms around her thighs, effectively pinning her hips down as he looked at her from between her legs, kneeling on the ground still. He looked at her for a moment before confessing with a sigh, “I’m hesitating like crazy.”

“Because…?” Y/N prompted as she sat up just a bit to be closer to him. He grabbed her wrists and threw them back on the mattress, positioning himself comfortably on top. He paused and looked at her for a moment before his expression shifted and he let out a sigh as he sat up to kneeling, leaning back on his hands.

“I…I’m gonna be honest here and vulnerable and stuff,” he said, trying to keep his demeanor casual but Y/N could tell he was being serious, “But I’ve never been with someone I actually care for in the way I care about you. Most people want to hook up with me - get the town freak’s dick, learn a bit about themselves so they can get off, and leave - and that’s fine but…I guess I’m worried that since I’ve never been with anyone I cared about beyond wanting to learn…well stuff…I won’t compare to Hargrove,” he said with a little look down before shaking his head, “Which is stupid I know-”

“I wouldn’t know what Billy is like,” Y/N cut him off as she sat up. Eddie looked at her and raised a brow.

“But you…” Eddie’s eyes went wide as he looked at her, “You and Billy never did it?”

“Nope,” Y/N said, not meeting his eyes, “We did not…we just…made out a couple of times…” His expression changed, it lightened.

“Oh,” he slowly rubbed the sides of her thighs back and forth. “So… and correct me if I’m wrong. This would be your first?”

“Yes,” She said, looking at him because if she couldn’t admit to him she wanted him to be her first she didn’t deserve to have him as such, “It would be.” He leapt up with a drive she knew only from days when he was really pumped for Hellfire.

“Well, then this is ALL WRONG”, he paced back and forth looking for something. “Hmmm.” He stopped when he saw his stereo. “Well, we obviously need music,” he smirked and bolted to his cassette shelf, diving in and throwing random tapes on the wall.

“No! Seriously?” Y/N asked as she sat up, laughing as she took the time to examine his room a bit more to distract herself from the nerves, “Eddie I don’t think that’s…” Her eyes caught on a metal shiny piece hanging from the wall near where he was searching for music and she felt her breath catch in her throat. Why did he have those? Just then “I’m On Fire”, by Bruce Springsteen. The soft guitar played through the speakers as Eddie tried to diffuse the tension.

“Oh,” he ran to his desk and ripped out a piece of notebook paper. He went to work doing something on it, but Y/N was all too distracted by the handcuffs on the wall. He finally turned around and offered her an origami rose made out of said notebook paper. “Next time, I’ll get you a bunch. Sorry, I only had one,” he sat on the bed next to her and brushed her hair aside, drinking her presence. “Whatcha looking at?”.

“Nothing,” she said far too quickly as she turned back to him, beaming at the rose and at him. “That’s impressive,” She said, trying to clear her mind and focus on how sweet he was being, despite her stomach being in knots.

“Well, middle school Munson didn’t have the musical talent or sexual prowess that he does now. So…. I… spent all my time making origami.” Y/N laughed out loud, a smile coming to her face.

“That’s sweet,” She admitted, “Do you do this for all the girls?” She said in an attempt at an old cheesy line, batting her eyes in a mock manner.

“The other girls haven’t seen my bedroom”, he replied matter-of-factly. Y/N sat in silence, her eyes wide as she took in that information.

“Oh,” was all she managed, her mind drifting back to the handcuffs as she went red. Is that because he has his personal stuff here? Maybe it’s because he didn’t want them to know him…does he want me to know him? Her mind raced and he could tell by the hazy look on her face.

“You like that?” He got up and started walking towards the wall. He looked back at her with a knowing smile.

“Yes,” she said, completely honest, “Not to sound like a cliche but…it makes me feel…special-god, that’s such a shit thing to say-”

“Oh no, not at all,” he smirked getting closer to the wall, “I like them too. I only break them out for special occasions.”

“Oh!” Y/N said quickly as she looked at him, “No, I didn’t mean…I meant that no one else has been here…I didn’t…”

“Hm?'' he scrunched his face as he turned to look at her again, his hands coming to rest on his heart in mock pain. “I’m surprised at you, L/N. Do you not like it?” He pointed to the Metallica poster right next to the handcuffs. “I thought you loved Metallica- Oh did you think I was talking about…” he trailed off, trying to feign, trying to read her thoughts on the handcuffs matter. But genuinely, he was curious despite the fact he was teasing her to put her at ease.

He hadn’t considered that they would use those ever, especially not for her first time. He didn’t mind if Y/N was vanilla which would have been his guess looking at her. Sure, she could and did talk back from time to time, something he adored, but he wouldn’t have pinged her as being kinky. But Y/N was unlike anyone he’s ever met. And if she wanted it, he’d be happy to oblige.

“Oh god,” She said as she buried her head in her hands and laughed, “I’m so sorry, I can’t…I just…” She couldn’t even complete the thought she was laughing so hard. This broke him from his thoughts and completely focused fully back on her at this moment.

“You laughin' at me L/N?” He took this as a challenge. He puffed out his chest. This only made her giggle more as she looked up at him with a beaming smile.

“I like Metallica,” she started as she continued to smile at him, “I also like the fact that I am the first person you’ve had here, for this…and I do like the handcuffs but not for tonight,” she said as she continued to smile at him but it shifted to a smirk at the end, “You’ve gotta ease me into it.” Eddie’s eyes went wide for a split second. Holy shit. She not only rose to the bait, she baited me back. This girl is going to be the end of me. She batted her eyes up at him and he realized in this moment of shock she had managed to get the upper hand, something he couldn’t allow.

“Hey now”, he bent down on his knees, looking up at her. “Don’t get cocky”, he flipped her over on her back and pinned her hands down on the mattress. “That’s my job”, he paused for laughter. “Get it? Cocky?”

“Yeah, yeah,” she laughed as she looked up at him, “I get it alright. You’re so…I don’t even have words to describe you!”

“Ah jeez you can’t think of any?” his eyes ran over her body. “Do I make you that nervous?”

“You don’t make me nervous,” she said honestly, “You make me happy and feel important and…you just make me feel like me. Sex…” She hesitated before shaking her head, “Sex makes me nervous!”. His demeanor faltered slightly.

“Understood”, he said with the most seriousness he could portray, despite the fact that she had just made his heart explode. “ And we don’t have to do anything at all if you don’t want to-”

“No!” she said quickly, “it’s not that! It’s just…look I’ve made out with people but this is totally different from that,” Y/N said quickly, “Because I didn’t love any of them so this is different because…” She trailed off as she realized what she had admitted to. Sure the thought had been in her mind for a bit but she had never dared to say it out loud. Eddie almost missed that last part because he was concentrating so deeply but he heard it. He wanted to ask her if he had heard her correctly. That was his intention. To ask her and then if he heard her correctly. That was the plan.

But he knew he had heard her correctly. He knew it. And instead of replying, the words were moving too fast in his brain and it was all he could do to pull her into him and press his lips to hers.

Y/N gasped as he did it, her heart racing before she melted into him, her hands coming to tangle in his hair as he laid her back down. It was only an instant before he was all over her, his lips touched every inch of her he could. He quickly slotted his knee in between her legs and pressed into her, the whine that fell from her mouth like heaven, drawing a sigh of his own. He moved away from her mouth as he pressed kisses down her jaw and to her neck. He was deliberate in his actions, strategically pressing kisses until he felt her grip on his hair tighten, earning a smirk from him. He began to abuse the spot, sucking and gently nipping at her skin as she muffled her sounds with one of her hands.

“Come on,” he coaxed as he pulled away ever so slightly to revel at the sight of her lust-blown eyes as she laid under him, “let me hear it all, baby. Just us, and you sound so pretty.” It was at that moment that he pressed his knee into her even more, drawing a whine from her that she didn’t hide as she gripped his black button-up which was still half done and revealed a couple of his tattoos.

“Eddie,” she said softly as she looked up at him.

“Yes, baby?” He prompted with a teasing grin as he leaned down to press more kisses to her neck, trailing lower to her collarbones.

“Remember when you said it was my next adventure to find out how many tattoos you had?” She asked, trying her best to keep her voice steady as he continued on his course. He hummed in reply, and though he couldn’t see it, a smirk came to her face.

“How can you expect me to do that when you’re still dressed?” The chuckle that fell from his lips had her thighs pressing together, his knee still embarrassingly sandwiched between them so she knew he could feel her move.

“Trying so hard to get me out of my clothes,” he said in a mock attempt to shame her as he pulled back a bit, “Too bad for you I’m a gentleman so…” He went to his knees once more and looked at her with pupils blown wide, “Ladies first.” Y/N’s smirk only grew as she got up from where she was laying down on the bed and first took off her fishnet tights, setting them aside with her jacket. She reached for the hem of her dress before turning her attention back to him.

“Sure you don’t want to undress me?” The grin on his face would put the Cheshire cat to shame as he leaned back on his hands.

“Nope,” he popped the p loudly as he leaned back even further, truly getting comfy, “I want to watch you strip for me.” Y/N slowly pulled up her dress without any more fanfare, his request being more than enough to do her in. She set aside her dress and was suddenly struck with nerves once more as she stood in the underwear she had carefully chosen. She went to meet Eddie’s eyes to get any sense of how he was feeling about it all and felt her breath hitch in her throat at the way he was looking at her.

She had people have crushes on her along the way. She’d made out with a few different people, enough to count on a single hand, and she had had sex before but no one, no one on earth had ever looked at her like Eddie was looking at her now.

He pushed off of the bed and stood up, taking slow steps toward her as his eyes raked over every single inch of her bit by bit. When he came to stop in front of her, he gently took her arms which had come up on instinct to cover herself, and lowered them at her sides, allowing him a full view. She looked at him as he stared at her body, his one hand coming up to cup her bra-covered breast.

The piece she had chosen was mostly sheer with a few red lace flowers covering here and there and without an ounce of padding, something all too obvious as he ran his thumb over her nipple before giving her breast a soft squeeze.

“Fuck,” he groaned as he felt how soft she was underneath his hand. His eyes then met hers, his free hand coming up to rest on her cheek, “You are the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen.” Any semblance of the cocky arrogant character he had put on at his show and even the teasing tone she so commonly heard from him had left his voice. As she looked up into his eyes, all she could see was sheer adoration, idolatry even.

“You’ve seen me in my underwear before,” She said with a soft giggle as she thought back to the night last summer their little group of friends had all stripped down to their underwear for a midnight Lover’s Lake swim. His expression didn’t change as he looked at her.

“But this is different,” his voice was deep and so full of emotions she couldn’t name as he spoke, “You’re letting me see you, touch you…you’re letting me take you as mine and allowing me to become yours. This is…you, are everything.” Y/N looked at him with that same look of adoration he had been giving her written across her face. Their eyes met again before he pressed his lips to hers once more, softly this time, so gentle it was like he thought she was at risk of breaking. She kissed him firmer, more so to assure them both that they were here, really here, together than anything else. He kissed back with equally as much passion, his hand on her breast squeezing even tighter to match drawing a gasp from her.

Before she knew it, his hands had come to her hips and he had picked her up, her only option was to wrap her arms around his neck and legs around his waist. He let out a hum into their kiss as she did, his hands coming to hold her ass and giving it a squeeze.

She gasped not only at the action but at the feeling of his cool rings against her heated body. He made his way to sit on the edge of the bed, resulting in Y/N sitting in his lap as he continued to kiss her. When he pulled away it was only so he could trail one of his hands up to her neck, kissing down the other side as he used his hand to manipulate her body exactly how he wanted it, listening to every little sound she made as an indication of what she wanted. He wanted to learn every single intricacy of her body, mind, and soul. He wanted to know her heart as well as he knew his own. He kissed her neck all over until he found a spot that made her breath hitch. He smiled as he did, beginning to gently nip at the skin there. When her fingers tangled into his hair and she let out a whimper that made him throb in his pants, he all but lost it.

“You like it when I leave marks on you, pretty girl?” He asked between kisses, his hand that was on her neck coming to grasp her breast and gently pinch her nipple, drawing a moan from her. “Need words, baby.”

“Yes,” She moaned out, fingers pulling in his hair as her head fell back when he went right back to it at her confirmation. “Feels amazing.” Eddie’s mind wandered momentarily and he pulled away causing her to whimper in complaint. He looked at her as she sat in his lap and a question came to his mind.

“Y/N, has anyone ever eaten you out?”

“No,” she confessed breathlessly as she looked at his swollen lips, ones she was sure matched her own. “I um…people have offered but I didn’t feel comfortable returning so I didn’t want them to so…but I’m ready now, with you.”

“Oh, sweetheart,” he praised as he gently brought his lips to hers before pulling away and smiling at her, “All I want in the world right now is to eat you out without wanting anything back. I just want to make you feel better than you’ve ever felt before. We’ll have plenty of time to fully explore each other later if you ever want to. And if you don’t that’s ok, alright?” She looked at him and he watched as the tension visibly left her body as she leaned in to gently press her lips to his. As they kissed, her hands came down to the buttons on his shirt and she began to undo them. He let out a hum of approval as she did, pressing kisses to her neck and breasts as she continued until his shirt was fully unbuttoned. He untucked it from his pants when it was and opened it so she could better see him once he had. Y/N pulled away and her eyes ran up and down his body, reveling in the sight. She brought her hands up to where the shirt was on his shoulders and looked to him for permission to push it off his shoulders. He nodded, giving her all the confirmation she needed to expose his torso to her.

She took this moment to look at the tattoos on his left shoulder, ones she hadn’t been paying that much attention to the first time she had seen him shirtless out of a need to be polite and not stare. But now, she really took them in. There were two of them on the left side of his chest, a spider and a demon. The spider was a bit higher up but they rested very close. She took a moment to trace her fingers over them as he watched her before she leaned in, pressing soft opened mouth kisses to them. Eddie’s hands both flew to her his as she felt him grind up into her, hard as a rock as she worshiped his body. She moved ever so slightly, pushing him to lay down on the bed so she could be on top, trailing kisses down his torso and to the little trail of hair that led down below-

A little whimper of pain came from Y/N as Eddie’s hands tangled in her hair and pulled her up to straddle him.

“Shit,” he swore as he moved his hands from her hair and gently cupped her face in his hands searching for any indication, “Did I hurt you? I’m so sorry-”

“It’s ok,” Y/N said, pressing a kiss to his lips to stop his worries. She pulled away to find that the concern had partially eased and she felt a little bit bolder, leaning in to whisper to him, “Besides, I like having my hair pulled.”

“Jesus,” He swore as she pulled back and smirked down at him beneath her, “You, Y/N L/N, are going to be the death of me.” Y/N chuckled and leaned down to continue as Eddie’s hands wound in her hair again, pulling much more deliberately this time. “Baby, this is about you, not me,” He scolded as he sat up, taking his hands out of her hair and running them down her body, “And I’m trying so hard to be gentle so make it easy for me pretty girl. Don’t you want to be good for me?” He knew it was a risk that Y/N might be against being spoken to in such a way but he watched as her eyes glazed over and her jaw dropped just a bit as she nodded.

“Then do me a favor, pretty girl, and lay down for me.” She complied in a heartbeat, moving out of his lap and laying down on the bed. He smiled at her as he took a moment to admire her before kneeling beside the bed and adjusting her so she was exactly where he wanted her.

“Spread your legs for me.” She did, a hint of embarrassment and anxiety coming up as she knew he may not like what he saw. She knew people who condemned girls for having bigger thighs and stretch marks and things like that and for a brief second, she let herself consciousness kick in, something Eddie seemed to be remarkably aware of.

“Hey Y/N,” he said, drawing her gaze to look down on him, knelt between her legs, “We don’t have to do this if you don’t want but I’m telling you now, you are the most stunning person I’ve ever laid hands or eyes on. Genuinely. You have nothing to be nervous about.” She melted as she could see the honesty in his eyes and again he watched her relax. He brought his hands up and slowly parted her thighs, loving the goosebumps that appeared on her skin as his rings came into contact with her body. He had to fight the moan that threatened to slip from his lips at the sight of the wet patch on her underwear with every fiber of his being. He pressed kisses all over her thighs, slowly working his way closer to her still-covered core, his hands finding their place on her hips as he held her on the bed. When he did finally get to her core, he pressed a soft kiss to her heat through her underwear, drawing a gasp from Y/N.

“Do you want me to take them off?” He asked gently as his thumb ran circles on her lips.

“Please,” she said, a smile coming to his face as she angled her hips in such a way that he could pull them off. He leaned up and ever so gently removed her underwear, setting them aside.

“Holy shit,” He whispered as he looked at her. He knew he needed to be slow, to ease her into it, so he tried his best, repeating the kissing of her thighs, this time without her underwear there until finally he got to her core. He pressed a soft kiss to her clit and felt her hips move on instinct, keeping them pressed to the bed. He continued, slowly getting bolder until he slipped his tongue inside of her.

Soft whimpers and moans fell from her consistently now as she relaxed into the pleasure he was so skillfully giving her. She felt so very at peace and was truly unable to do anything else but think about him between her legs.

“Eddie-” She moaned out, the man letting out a moan of his own at the way she moaned his name.

“Yes, baby?” he asked, briefly coming up for air.

“Can you…can you also…”

“Y/N say the word and it’s yours,” He said as he leaned back to be able to look at her, “Anything you want baby.”

“Can you use your fingers too?” She asked sheepishly. The grin that lit up Eddie’s face instantly melted any worries she had about being needy. He replied with actions not words, instantly slipping two of his fingers inside of her causing her to gasp.

From their previous encounters - though simple and brief ones - he knew that usually two was her comfort zone but if he was going to actually fit inside of her he wanted to use at least three. The general theory was if he started with two instead of one then three wouldn’t be such a stretch.

That theory seemed to be working as she whimpered and moaned from the stretch beneath him.

“You’re doing- so good,” he praised between moans as he put his mouth right back to work, sucking on her clit like his life depended on it and right now, it felt like it did. As much as he wanted to solely focus on her pleasure, he couldn’t help the little grind of his hips against the carpet every time she moaned. It slowly became a consistent rocking until he feared he was going to cum completely untouched just from eating her out. While he’d love to do that another day, tonight they had a plan and if she had gotten herself all ready for it, he refused to spoil it by finishing too early. He had been so distracted by his name coming out in moans from lips that he hadn’t even registered it was probably because he had been fucking three fingers into her for a while. Her hands were tangled so tightly in his hair and he quickly put two and two together on what was coming, leaning it to suck on her clit more as he continued doing exactly what he was doing until Y/N suddenly gasped and moved away from him with a little, “stop.” Eddie’s hands let go immediately and went into the air as he looked at her breathing heavily.

“I'm sorry-“

“No, no,” she shook her head at him, moving back closer as her chest heaved, “I was just…I knew I was going to…squirt and I didn’t want it to be while you were-“

“Oh my god,” Eddie said as he pressed her down against the bed and climbed on top of her. “You were going to squirt and you stopped me!”

“Yes!” She nodded, “I…most guys wouldn’t want to be anywhere near that!”

“First off, yes they would,” Eddie nodded, his fingers already back between Y/N’s legs slowly slipping inside of her again, “and secondly, we already know I am not ‘most guys’.” He went back to what he had been doing before and watched as Y/N relaxed under him at his words. He liked this even more because of how at peace she seemed so he kissed his way down her body and got right back to it. Instead of changing anything he was doing, he continued right on with what he had been doing, putting his whole heart into it and reveling in the fact that he was able to get her like this. It didn’t take long until she was crying his name again, her eyes squeezing tightly closed and her fingers tugging at this hair with a vice.

“Let go, baby,” he commanded and she did. Her release gushed over his face and he licked her clean with a fearless new to him. He had been with others before but never anyone who got this reaction out of him. It was only when she let out a little whimper of pain he realized she was already feeling overstimulated and he couldn’t have that…not yet.

“How are you, pretty girl?” He asked as he came to rest over her again. She nodded as she looked up at him, a smile on her face as she pulled him in for a kiss. It was gentle and sweet and he felt his heart melt at her sweetness despite what they were doing.

“So good to me,” He murmured as she pulled away to kiss down his neck. Her hands quickly found his belt buckle and began to mess with it, a pathetic-sounding whine coming from her when she realized she couldn’t figure out how to undo it. He chuckled as he batted her hands away before pressing a kiss to each one.

“I got you,” He smiled and she returned it as he undid the buckle. He quickly set it somewhere on the floor to be forgotten about as he sat back on his knees. Y/N quickly sat up and ran her hand down to where his hands were on his zipper.

“Can I?” She asked, looking up at him with complete adoration. He couldn’t deny her anything and nor would he ever want to so he just nodded and sat back, allowing her to do exactly as she wished. She unzipped his jeans with one hand, using her other hand to trail down his body, following the little trail of hair downward. As she finished unzipping his jeans and looked to him to get up and take them off, something he complied with, slipping them off and setting them next to his belt. Now in just his black boxers, he couldn’t help but feel the slightest bit of anxiety. What if he couldn’t please her? What if he couldn’t manage to learn what she liked? He stood with his back facing to her for clearly too long as she was out of bed.

“Hey,” Her voice was soft as she gently turned him to face her, her one hand coming up to turn his face to look at her as her free hand held his hand, “We can stop here if you want or do something else-”

“No,” He shook his head, “I want this. Really. I want you.” Y/N smiled at him and gently pressed a kiss to his lips before it became less gentle. She managed to move both hands to Eddie’s chest and he walked back until his back hit the door with a little gasp at how easily she had taken over. She chuckled as she began to press kisses down his chest, her one hand coming down to palm him gently over his boxers which made him gasp again.

“Is this ok?” She asked as she pulled away from his neck for only a moment, taking in the sight of how beautiful he looked with his head thrown back against the door, his eyes shut in pleasure.

“Yes,” he replied, a breathy moan following. “You can…you can take it out if you want.” Y/N didn’t reply with words, smiling as she did exactly that. She took it in for a moment, her eyes going wide as for the first time ever she processed the idea of him being inside her. She ran her thumb over his tip gently causing another groan to come from him as his hands grasped her hips with a force. He was so hard and she was impressed that he hadn’t finished yet but god did she feel bad for him. She wanted to please him so bad so that’s exactly what she set out to do. She stroked him gently, seeing what he liked and what got the best reaction from him, reveling in each sound he made. As soon as she started to get the hang of things, one of his hands moved from her hips and took hold of her wrist. Her eyes shot up to meet his which were now open and looking at her.

“Sorry,” he said gently, “You were doing great…it’s just, I’m pretty worked up so I didn’t want to finish yet.” Y/N smiled at him and nodded

“I get it…but I mean…you made me-”

“It’s different,” he said as he picked her up again and carried her back to his bed, laying her down gently, “Takes me longer to get back to it.” His choice of phrasing made her giggle and his focus snapped to her, “You’re really laughing at me? Now?”

“Yes,” she replied as she shook her head. He chuckle and pressed a kiss to her lips before pulling away.

“Well, we can’t have that,” He said as he leaned over and opened up one of the drawers near his bed. He easily found a condom and held it up to her, his expression going a bit more serious.

“You’re sure?”

“Yes,” she said as she took it from him and opened it much to his surprise, “I’m ready.” He watched with a smile as she pulled it out and rolled it onto him, careful as always with delicate hands before setting the wrapper aside. He wrapped her thighs around his waist and looked down at her.

“Tell me if you need me to stop at any point, ok?” He said as he lined himself up. She nodded, words escaping her at this moment. Right as he was about to press in, he heard her speak.

“Just…be gentle. Please?” He felt his heart melt at her plea. Eddie leaned down and kissed her so softly and whispered, “I promise,” as he began to press in. Y/N automatically tensed at the feeling, it was brand new to her and he pulled away from their kiss to whisper to her.

“I know,” he said as he fought for his own breath as he waited with just the tip in her, “Just breathe for me, baby.” She nodded through a whimper and took in a shaky inhale, causing him to press into her a bit more, “There you go,” he praised. “Just keep breathing.” While she relaxed for a moment, she instantly tensed again as he started to move.

He instantly noticed and without a word brought his hand up to hold hers, pressing them both into the mattress with a gentle squeeze. The tiny gesture and his soft smile allowed her to breathe easily. Eddie smiled as he noticed the calm this brought Y/N, pressing another kiss to her lips as he slowly pushed into her, stretching her out. As he did, her eyes squeezed shut and her toes curled as a moan was forced from her lips. Their one set of hands parted and Y/N’s nails instantly find their way to Eddie’s back. He let out a shaky moan as she left marks he knew he’d love to see in the mirror tomorrow.

“Fuck. I’m not even halfway in and you’re already...so tight...fucking...damn.” Y/N squirmed under him as he attempted to let her adjust, his words causing her to want more than he was giving her.

“Don’t squirm,” Eddie commanded in a dark stern hiss, causing Y/N to instantly stop moving and clamp around him, forcing a moan as Eddie buried his head into her neck. Interesting, he thought storing the information away for later. He pulled his head out of her neck and spoke gently, “I’m going to push the rest of the way in now, ok?” Y/N nodded at him and he began to slip in once again.

“Fuck,” He swore as he bottomed out in one fatal thrust causing them both to gasp, “God Y/N, you feel so good.” She managed to give a little nod to him which instantly caused him to check in with her.

“How are you feeling?” He asked, making sure to remain very still to give her time to adjust to the sensation.

“It hurts just a tiny tiny bit,” She confessed, thankful that all the rumors she had heard about it hurting a lot the first time were just that. “I just feel...full.” He gave a little chuckle and began to pepper kisses all over her cheeks before kissing her lips again.

“Well that’s good,” He smiled as he pulled away, “All I want is to make you feel good, baby. You were still a bit tense. Just relax now, pretty girl,” He purred as he ran his hand down her body, “I’ve got you and everything is going to be ok.” Seeing the genuine and kind look in his eyes made Y/N instantly melt and any trace of tenseness was gone. A dull ache soon settled between her hips and she found herself rolling them in an attempt to ease the pressure causing Eddie to let out a little hiss.

“Is that my sign to move?” He asked with a smile.

“Please,” Y/N begged softly. Eddie can feel his heart melt at her little plea. Instantly, all he wanted to do was hold her and never let go but he quickly brought himself back to the moment at hand. He pulled out just a little before thrusting into her making her let out a little gasp of a moan at the feeling - his own moans echoing along with hers. Eddie then dropped his weight to his forearms on either side of her head which brought them even closer together. He slid both of his hands into her hair lightly as he quickened his pace causing more moans coming from the pair as they began to fully lose themselves in it all.

Even through the pleasure of it all, Y/N could tell how remarkably gentle Eddie was attempting to be and it made her heart flutter. Despite his best efforts, Eddie naturally became a bit rougher by second nature, but as things speed up and the knot in Y/N’s stomach came closer to bursting, she don’t mind a bit. Her free hand tangled into his hair and pulled causing him to groan into her neck, nipping at the skin there enough to leave even more marks. Call him possessive, he was and wanted her and everyone else in this stupid fucking town to know that she was his now.

His need to mark her up though was only overcome by his want to etch every expression that crossed her face into his memory, so he pulled away to watch her beautiful face contrast beneath him.

“Fuck,” He swore as she let out a cry as he hit what he assumed was her G spot, angling to make sure he kept that up, “So fucking pretty for me.” Y/N could tell how close Eddie was getting by the absolutely stunning expressions painted on his face and the little praises that he uttered. His one hand slowly found its way to her clit and he softly attempted a couple of different things to see what elicited the best response. After a particular movement, he felt her tighten around him with a high whine and he knew he'd hit the jackpot. He repeated the movement while continuing to thrust into her, causing Y/N to cry out in response as she felt the coil come this close to snapping.

“Eddie, I’m going to-”

“I know baby, I know,” He moaned as she clenched around him, “Cum for me.” His command was all it took for her to come completely undone beneath him. Her high and the feeling of her gripping him like a vice was all it took to have him finding right along with her, burying his face into her neck to muffle the long whine that came from him as he pressed as deep as he could get into her. He continued to thrust into her, allowing the pair to ride out their highs before finally stilling. They both lay there, breathing heavily a mess of tangled limbs and sweat, glowing with love. Finally, when he caught his breath, Eddie pulled away enough that he could see Y/N’s face.

She was always beautiful but damn did she look good post-orgasm. He wanted to burn the sight of her into his brain forever.

“How are you feeling, pretty baby?” He asked as he ran his hands through her hair and cupped her cheek. Y/N’s eyes fluttered open and Eddie swore he died and went to heaven as she looked up at him, the love in her eyes and smile on her face all too innocent considering what they just did.

“So good,” Y/N replied, her voice high and soft, music to Eddie’s ears, “How are you?”

“So good,” he echoed back to her, pressing a kiss to her forehead, “I know I just like…popped your cherry and all,” he smiled as she giggled at the expression, “But I still can’t believe you’re real.”

“I’m real,” Y/N giggled as she flicked his forehead, making him beam, “That real enough for you?”

“Yeah that works,” he said as the pair fell into giggles making them both realize Eddie was still very much inside. “Oh shit,” He swore, “I’m gonna pull out now, is that ok?”

“Mhm,” Y/N hummed as she gave his hand which was still held in hers a little squeeze. He gave her a small smile as he pulled out both of them letting out little moans as he did. He instantly wrapped her into his arms, holding her so close to him as she buried her head into his chest. She had never felt so safe in the arms of another person before, wanting nothing more than to hold him forever.

“You did so well,” He praised her, “You know that?” He pressed kisses onto the top of her head as she stayed buried in his chest.

“Thank you,” came her soft reply.

“You don��t have to thank me for praising you baby,” He chuckled.

“No, for…for everything,” she said as she pulled away ever so slightly so they could look at each other. Her eyes were so sleepy as she looked at him but the adoration was still written all over both of their faces.

“Oh Y/N,” he said as he leaned in, pressing a kiss to her forehead, “You don’t need to thank me for that at all, baby. I loved it. I really loved it.”

“Me too,” she replied as she beamed up at him, shifting ever so slightly and grimacing. It was that little grimace that reminded Eddie of what needed to come next.

“Baby, I’m gonna get stuff to get you cleaned up, okay?” He asked as he gently pulled away.

“M’kay,” she nodded as she looked at him, “But don’t be gone too long.”

“Getting all clingy on me already?” He teased as he slowly slipped out of bed and slipped off the condom, throwing it away before looking back at her, his eyes going wide.

“Fuck,” He swore as he took in the sight of her sprawled out in his bed completely fucked out. The very worst part of him had never wanted to take a damn Polaroid so bad but his top priority was getting her cleaned up and comfy.

“Weren’t you going somewhere?” Y/N teased as she realized the effect she was having on him, rolling onto her side to give him a different view. He chuckled at her and gave her ass a little swat as he left the room.

“Little brat,” he reprimanded as slipped on his boxers, “And here I was trying to be chivalrous.”

“Chivalry is dead Munson,” She said as he walked into the bathroom and wet a towel with warm water, ringing it out before heading back into the bedroom.

“Oh yeah?” He asked as he gently ran the towel over her body, cleaning her up, “Then what, pretty girl, would you call this?”

“Common courtesy after that,” Y/N giggled as she looked up at him. He shook his head and gently moved the towel to clean between her legs, lifting her one leg as he did and pressing a kiss to her inner thigh.

“I don’t know,” He teased as he set the towel aside when he was done, “I think I’m a pretty chivalrous guy.”

“You are,” she said with all genuineness.

“Anything else I can get for you?” He asked softly as he cupped her cheek again, “Water? Food?”

“Clothes?” Y/N asked as she looked down at her still very naked body.

“Right,” Eddie said as he got up and walked over to his closet before thinking better of it and coming back over to her, “Wanna come pick out your pjs?”

“I get to pick?” The joy in Y/N’s voice, as she sat up with a little wince, made Eddie’s heart melt. God I lo… his thoughts trailed off with a little pang in his heart as he made his way over to her.

“Mhm,” He nodded as he picked her up bridal style in his arms making her smile, carrying her over to his closet, “Take your pick.” She looked through his little t-shirt collection before looking at the Metallica one he had been wearing the second time she had met him.

“That one,” she said with a point. He smiled and nodded as he set her back down on the bed, grabbing it out for her and bringing it over to her.

“A good choice,” He said as he watched her slip it over her head.

“You wore it when Jude first brought me over to your house to pick up their drugs,” Y/N said as she searched for her underwear. “Can you bring me my underwear?” Eddie was frozen and didn’t even register her request. “Eddie?”

“You remember what I was wearing?” He asked softly as he looked at her.

“Of course,” she nodded, “I thought you looked so handsome. You are so handsome-” Y/N couldn’t even get her thought out before he pressed his lips to hers, pressing her into the mattress again before he pulled away.

“Sorry,” he said with a sheepish chuckle as he wrapped her in his arms again, “I don’t know what came over me-”

“Don’t apologize,” she said with a smile as she pulled him fully into bed with her, “Just stay here with me?”

“Always,” he replied and he meant it with every fiber of his soul. The pair curled up together, limbs tangled, needing to be so close and neither one had ever slept so well in their lives as they did that night.

So that's the fic! Yay! 10k words bby! As always, likes, comments, and reblogs are throughly appreciated!

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x y/n #stranger things 4 #stranger things x reader #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson smut #eddie x fem!reader #eddie stranger things #billy hargrove x y/n #gareth stranger things #jeff stranger things #corroded coffin

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pedropascallme · 7 months

Text

The Weather Ain't Been Bad

Pairing: Damien Haas x f!Reader

Summary: “You had barely made it off the last step, rounding the corner to the kitchen, when you heard a voice call your name. You flinched, hand flying to your chest in a brief moment of panic, not suspecting anybody else to be awake, let alone downstairs, while you were roaming the halls like some kind of restless spirit.”

Warnings: SMUT (18+ MINORS DNI) p in v sex, dom/sub dynamics, fingering, oral (f receiving), spitting, Damien is a biter but we knew that, lots of begging and even more praise, Damien likes getting his hair pulled but we knew that. If I missed anything please let me know!

“You look dumb.”

“I’ll literally—look at me, look at me. Shut up.”

You listened to Shayne and Angela argue in the back seat, their back and forth had started as a game of I-spy and quickly devolved into improvised insults on hour one of the drive after a patch of traffic resulted in a lack of things to spy.

“Literally nothing you say could ever affect me I don’t care about anything you have to say to me.” Shayne deadpanned and you heard Angela let out a shrill sound as she tried to climb out of her seatbelt to punch him in the arm.

“Hey, you know what would actually be really fun?” Damien, driving, looked back at them through the rearview mirror, “If you guys would, uh, shut the hell up?”

You laughed quietly; head propped up on the window as you watched the California landscape go from dusty highway to snowcapped trees. Hours long car ride aside, you were happy to be making the trip. It had never occurred to you that upon Anthony’s return to the company there would be a renaissance of Smosh content that didn’t have to do with the main channel, but when they announced the return of the Winter Games you felt a swell of joy—it was nice to be part of something that went back so many years and still continued to entertain the masses, especially when that something made you feel a cathartic sort of nostalgia.

And now, sitting in the front seat and listening to your friends threaten each other in increasingly ridiculous ways, watching Damien’s hand on the steering wheel, it went beyond simple nostalgia: It was pure ecstasy. The low hum of music on the radio paired nicely with the long road ahead, and you leaned back, closing your eyes for a moment.

You felt a hand on your knee, giving you a short squeeze. You opened your eyes, grabbing Damien’s hand and squeezing him back.

“What?” You playfully pushed his hand back towards his body, and he gripped the steering wheel.

“You’re my GPS, you can’t fall asleep.”

“I could navigate!” Angela leaned forward, elbows on the center console.

“You—you would get us lost in your own house, you psycho.” Amanda piped up for the first time in several minutes, placing a hand gingerly on Angela’s shoulder and laughing.

“Hey!” Angela turned her attention away from the front seat, pushing against Shayne, who had started laughing at her expense once more.

Damien glanced at you from his peripheral, as if to silently lament about your friends in the back seat, and you glanced back, smiling.

You appreciated the moments you got to spend with Damien. It wasn’t like they were rare; since you’d joined the cast, he was always someone you’d found a sort of reliability in, and a shared sense of humor went a long way. He was always a beacon of tranquility amongst the chaos of the office. He could be just as rowdy as everybody else—and often was—but he was always able to weed out when somebody needed a moment to recalibrate, and it felt like he knew what you needed before even you did sometimes. But he seemed to have that effect on most everybody, and you didn’t want to push too hard for something that might not be there, despite how happy you were to feel his hand on your back when he guided you through crowded spaces, or to hear him say your name in that faux-crestfallen way when you cheated in cards.

He turned his gaze back to the road, and you found yourself leaning against the window again, passively looking at his reflection in the trees that darted by, and thinking things that you decided should remain unsaid.

~~~

The house was gigantic, and even that was putting it lightly.

In theory, you recognized that you worked for a multi-million-dollar company, but it was more than a little weird to be standing in the doorway of a house big enough to hold at least 20 copies of your own apartment inside of it.

But you understood the want to splurge; it had been years since the last Winter Games, and even longer still since there had been a Games with Anthony. It was exciting, and even before you had gotten to the cabin-style mansion, there had been a buzz in the air; cast and crew alike vibrating in anticipation of a vacation-like period where things would be more akin to camp than to work.

Filming started immediately, and you barely had time to think about what exactly was happening before you were back in front of a camera.

Shoulder to shoulder with the rest of the cast, Ian and Anthony made picks for their respective teams; it was easy to forget that you were in a new space—it was like you’d never left the office, still in good company and laughing until your cheeks hurt. You donned the bright blue shirt that had been handed to you, and wondered how many raunchy, snow-related jokes you’d have to hear over the next week.

“Be honest with me,” you put the shirt on over the one you were already wearing, joining the side of the room with the rest of your teammates, “Are we gonna lose?”

Damien laughed, “With that attitude? Probably.”

Maybe the best part of the trip was the fact that this year marked the first time that everybody got their own room. You’d heard the stories—not that they were all that bad, but it was nice to know that even when surrounded by your friends for two weeks, you’d still be able to duck out for some private time in your own space.

Except that your room was freezing.

You hadn’t noticed it upon your arrival, coat still zipped up and adrenaline on high, but once you had showered and readied yourself for bed, you recognized the deep, unwelcome chill in your bones. The source evaded you; the windows were closed, the ceiling fan was completely still—it was a frustrating end to a long day.

You gave up, putting on a heavier sweatshirt and deciding that locating the source of the frigid air was a problem for tomorrow. There had to be extra blankets somewhere, and you tried to recall whether there had been any on the couches downstairs. Even if there weren’t, getting out of your room and regaining a little feeling in your fingers sounded appealing.

You quietly exited your bedroom.

Tiptoeing down the stairs, you shifted your weight awkwardly from side to side to avoid any sudden creaks from the old wood. The house was silent—save for the wind outside that howled against the windows every few moments—and you didn’t want to disturb the peace.

You had barely made it off the last step, rounding the corner to the kitchen, when you heard a voice call your name. You flinched, hand flying to your chest in a brief moment of panic, not suspecting anybody else to be awake, let alone downstairs, while you were roaming the halls like some kind of restless spirit.

“I’m sorry—did I scare you?” The familiar sound of timely apologies, whispered from across the room. You felt your heart settle. “I’m sorry.”

“Jesus, Damien,” you took measured breaths, “scared me.”

“Sorry,” his voice was low. He stood behind the kitchen island, hair messy, and it was clear he was struggling to sleep as much as you were.

“It’s ok,” you walked towards where he was standing, leaning over the island to grab at his arm reassuringly before letting go; his skin was warm against your palm, and even in the dark of the room you were unable to tear your eyes from him. “I didn’t think anybody else was up.”

“Yeah, well, it’s not by choice,” he sighed, “my room is a sauna.”

“You’ve got your own room, you couldn’t just strip down?” You raised your eyebrows, teasing him, trying not to think about how he might look spread out on his bed with nothing on.

“There are only so many layers I can take off until it’s, like, my skin,” he smiled, and you broke out into a quiet laugh.

“Well, my room is freezing, so,” you collected yourself a little, “I came down looking for more blankets, but if you wanted to switch…”

“Is the window open?” He furrowed his brow, seemingly concerned by your discomfort.

“Not even a crack,” you clarified, “Your room sounds like a dream to me right now.”

You didn’t realize how it sounded until he let out a snort, “Yeah, I get that a lot.”

“You know what I meant.” You rolled your eyes, and he reached over the counter to brush his hand against yours in a gesture of peace.

You stood quietly together, enjoying each other’s company and the calm of the house. You let your hand remain under his on the granite, and he didn’t make any moves to separate from you.

“Thanks for being a good sport about navigating,” Damien ran his other hand over his face, tired after the seemingly endless day. “I know it probably wasn’t your first choice.”

“Yeah, well. You better thank God we’re on the same team, otherwise I’d use 'competitive determination' as an excuse to get back at you for keeping me up." You shot back jovially, “But, you know…it was nice to help you out.” You paused. “I liked it, actually.”

He shot you a small smile, which you returned, and the two of you let silence fall again.

“How about I see if I can find the source of whatever it is that’s making you so cold?” He tilted his head, sincerely offering to help you, and you could never say no to an offer like that.

You could never say no to Damien.

“That would be nice.” You curled your pinky into the palm of his hand before turning to lead him to your room.

You were friends, always had been upon your entrance into the company; he was an undeniably important presence in your life for that very reason—he was there. He was always there when you needed him. He was supportive and kind and stupidly funny, and, yeah, incredibly attractive. But that didn’t mean it had to be something more. Just because you looked forward to the days he came into work with dark stubble that contrasted with the silver of his hair, just because you forgot the rules to certain games sometimes because you were too focused on the way his sleeves fit around his arms, just because you loved the way his eyes trailed over your face when you told him a story and he got just as animated as you did—it didn’t have to be anything more than friendship.

But realistically, despite your insistence to your friends and to yourself that you considered Damien a great, strictly-platonic friend and nothing more, you knew what you really wanted.

You knew you wanted more.

And despite the innocent context under which you were bringing him up to your room, there was a surge of adrenaline that coursed through your chest while he trailed behind you.

“Jesus,” he pushed his shoulders back upon opening the door to your room, goosebumps pricking his skin. “Some weather we’re having.”

“I told you,” you pushed past him, kicking a stray pair of socks into the corner. “You still think you can fix it?”

“They actually call me Damien “Fix-It” Haas,” he cracked his knuckles, “Don’t look into it.”

You smiled, shaking your head, spreading your arms out to signal that he could poke around freely.

It took him approximately ten seconds to locate the thermostat behind a curtain.

“Are you serious?” You kicked yourself for missing what should’ve been so obvious.

“I’m Damien,” he went straight-faced, “And this says sixty-five degrees—how are you not frozen solid?”

“Pure will.” Your head fell back in exasperation, “How did I miss that?”

“You’re tired,” he softened, “It’s been a long day, y’know, and I bet a lot of people are too dumb to look behind curtains—”

You cut him off with a curt but soft shove to his chest, and he grabbed your hands after they made impact, both of you semi-delirious from lack of sleep and falling into a fit of giggles. He removed one of his hands from you, leaning back to change the thermostat.

“It’ll heat up eventually,” he started, “What number do you want it at?”

“Warm.”

“So, that is not a number,” he smiled at you, “I’ll put it in the seventies.”

“Thank you,” you wriggled free of the grasp he still had on your wrist, “My hero.”

You stood facing each other for a moment, neither of you ready to part for some reason.

“I should go to sleep,” you finally spoke.

“Yeah.” He agreed, voice sounding raspier than it had before. He started to walk towards the door while you leaned back onto the pillows on the bed.

“Damien,” you didn’t know what you were doing, or if you should be doing it, but it felt only logical in the moment, “Stay.”

You watched him freeze in place, turning back to look at you.

“I mean…if your room is uncomfortable to sleep in—what, are you gonna sleep on the couch?” You continued, rambling to find reasoning behind your sudden offer, “You can just stay here tonight.”

“Seriously?” He scanned your features, trying to figure out if you were serious or if this was just a joke that he hadn’t caught onto yet.

“Yeah.”

“Are you sure—?”

“I’m just saying, it’s not fair that you have to spend the night in discomfort. Especially after you fixed the temperature in here.” You felt a red heat rising in your ears, but you soldiered on, still waiting for a yes or no. You watched as he turned to walk towards the door again, and your heart sank a little, before he closed the door in front of him and walked back to you.

“One hell of a sleepover—one bed, no snacks, and you don’t even have a Wii,” He feigned disappointment.

“But I hear when mom goes to sleep, they bring out Kevin’s mom.” You smiled, digging your heels into the comforter, and he laughed at the callback.

He sat on the mattress, leaning back on the pillows with you, and you used it as an excuse to angle yourself towards him, resting your head lightly on his shoulder.

“I can sleep on the floor. If you want…” He whispered, and you felt his fingers trail up your own hand.

“No,” you turned to look at him, still on your back but suddenly very aware of the proximity to which you were lying next to each other, letting him continue to run his hand along your arm. “It’s still cold in here.”

“I can turn the heat up—”

You watched as he traced the curve of your elbow with his finger before letting it fall back to your hand, “Damien, stop being a gentleman. Just share the bed with me.”

“Ok.” He stopped moving, gaze falling on you and swallowing shallowly. You laced your fingers with his. You were certain he could see your heart beating through your ribcage, or at the very least he could see the way your pulse bounced in your wrist. “Yeah, ok.”

You didn’t undress, didn’t even get under the covers, but something felt so intimate; a shift in the air. Maybe it was the new warmth that permeated throughout the room, but it was different, in the best way.

It felt like more.

He didn’t touch you, didn’t even graze your back when you turned over to get comfortable. But you felt his breath on the back of your head, rustling your hair and drifting over the back of your neck.

Your eyes stayed open, unable to let sleep take hold despite the tranquility; the moon bounced off the snow and caused a dim light to trickle through the window, and you were wide awake.

You shifted again, turning back over to face Damien. His eyes were closed, and you watched the subtle movements of his body, chest rising and falling softly with each breath.

“It’s creepy to watch people sleep.” He whispered, and you bit your tongue, unsure of what to say. Busted. He opened one eye and broke into a small smile. “Are you gonna murder me?”

“Haven’t decided yet.” You whispered back, nearly letting the sound of the wind outside drown you out.

“I could take you,” he propped himself up on his arm.

“Is that a challenge or a blanket statement?” You raised an eyebrow, “Because I wasn’t going to murder you, but those are fighting words.”

“What do you think?” He was goading you now, waiting to see if you’d back down from whatever this was, if there was a line you were going to draw.

“I think I could kick your ass.” You sat up on your knees.

“Yeah?” He looked at you, skeptical. You couldn’t think of what to say, couldn’t tell what this was, or what would happen if you crossed the physical boundary into his space.

You threw caution to the wind for the second time within the hour.

You launched yourself towards him, and he let his arm fall to the side, lying on his back as you clambered to straddle him. Grabbing his wrists, you pulled his hands above his head, letting out a small huff of victory.

You couldn’t recall a time where you’d ever been this close to Damien before. There was a pool of heat in your stomach that you tried to write off as a burst of energy—adrenaline hitting in the middle of the night—while you rationalized being in this position with him. With your friend. It was just wrestling; a playful act among companions. You’d seen people do it all the time in the office. Courtney put Spencer in a headlock the other day—you’d seen her do it to Ian the day before that. It was fine. It wasn’t anything other than roughhousing.

It didn’t have to be anything more.

“I told you.” You gloated.

“I was in a vulnerable position. This is hardly what I would call a fair fight.”

“Don’t be a sore loser.”

“I’m being a sore loser?” He smiled, all teeth, and you were about to respond, tell him that you had won, fair and square, and that if he wanted to lose again, you’d grant him the rematch he clearly wanted so desperately.

Instead, he flipped you onto your back, knee between your legs and one hand pinning your wrists above your head just as you had done to him.

“Never let your guard down,” He laughed, and you bit back a smile.

“That’s not fair.”

“That’s what a sore loser would say.” He taunted, and you thought you felt his grip tighten around your wrists.

You looked up at him, unsure where to go from here.

Surely, you’d separate, turn over and away from each other, fall asleep, and then act like nothing was different tomorrow—because nothing was different. Nothing had changed. This was nothing.

But you liked the way he looked like this; his knee caught between the V of your own legs, the muscles in his arm tense from the grip he had on you, his other hand planted on the bed at your side, just close enough for you to feel the heat radiating off of it. You watched him swallow.

“Tell me to let go,” he whispered, his voice gravelly. “Tell me to let go and I will.”

You didn’t move. You didn’t make a sound. All you could do was stare up at him, before you reminded yourself to speak, to say anything, to finally reveal what it was you wanted.

“Kiss me.” You were worried he wouldn’t hear it over the wind, words coming out small and breathy, but you saw the way the muscle in his jaw clicked.

He was on you instantly, colliding with you in a frenzied kiss. He let go of your wrists, and your hands came down to trail over his back, pulling him closer to you by the back of his neck. He bit at your bottom lip, and the sharp sting was counteracted quickly by the way his tongue darted over it, exploring you while you whined underneath him. He licked into your mouth, and you sucked at his tongue before letting his exploration continue, your hands reaching under the back of his shirt in an attempt to get closer, to let him suffocate you with his attention.

He pulled back, lips pink and cheeks blushed, his hand coming to hold your jaw and encourage you to open wider. He spit into your open mouth, before pushing on your jaw, encouraging you to close it. You did, swallowing his offering before opening your mouth again, sticking out your tongue as proof of your deed.

“Fuck,” he growled, hand still on your face when he reconnected his mouth to yours. It was needier now; sloppy and wet, and you could taste him perfectly like this, your spit mingling with his, licking into his mouth to get as much of him as you could.

He trailed down your body, leaving kisses on any skin available to him. The collar of your shirt exposed your clavicle, and he bit into the skin around it, sinking his teeth into you just enough for red marks to appear, before sucking a bruise onto the skin of the bone.

“Camera,” you reminded him haphazardly, “Nothing the camera can see—” You combed your fingers through his hair, pulling hard to ensure he listened to your warning, and he groaned at the pressure, removing his mouth from you.

“Right,” He was breathing hard, thumb rubbing circles on the bruise he had just made, low enough on your chest that your shirt would cover it—a secret between the two of you. He leaned back down, lips wrapping around the pulse point below your ear and peppering gentle kisses on it. You ground your hips onto him, his knee still planted between your thighs, stabilizing his position, and you felt the fabric of your pajamas catch perfectly on your clit, letting out a soft moan.

Damien watched, lips parted, as you bucked your hips against his thigh; some area of his brain wanted to let you continue, let you bring yourself to the edge by using him like this, but that was outweighed by the part of him that wanted so desperately to be the one making you cum; he wanted to make you fall apart, wanted to see how pretty you looked when he was making you feel good.

He moved his leg, effectively straddling you, and you let out a whimper of discontent, disappointed by the sudden loss of friction when you had been so close to what you needed.

“I know, baby,” his voice was cloying, clearly finding your whines enticing in a twisted sort of way; call it sadistic, but he didn’t want you putting in any work—he wanted to be in charge of all your pleasure. “I’ll let you finish, I promise,” he licked a stripe up your neck. “Tell me what you need.”

“Want your mouth,” you were quick to answer.

“Ask nicely.”

“Please, I want your mouth on me Damien—please.”

“You want my mouth?” He nipped at your jawline, “Want me to fuck you with my tongue?”

You nodded, entranced by how devious he looked, pupils blown out, swallowing the moon’s reflection, silver hair messy from being pulled on and falling over his eyes, skin flushed pink; you were absolutely overcome with need watching him at his most primal.

He moved further down your body, situating himself between your legs and tucking his fingers beneath the waistband of your pajamas; you lifted your hips when he began to pull the fabric off of you, slowly, and you tried in vain to push your pants off faster.

“Uh-uh,” he moved his hands to cover yours, “be patient.”

You removed your hands from the flannel waistband, placing them over your chest and trying to crane your neck to watch him. It felt like an eternity before he finally let the fabric pool around your ankles, sliding them off with help from you kicking gently against the air. If ever there was a time to be thankful that you didn’t sleep in underwear, it would be now.

Moving back towards your core, he pulled your legs over his shoulders, still concentrated on making you comfortable even while most of his focus was on your naked cunt.

“Do you always get wet this quickly?” He let you hook your knee behind his head, looking up at you from between your legs.

“Shut up,” you felt suddenly embarrassed, as if it was only now, with his breath fanning your spread legs, that he had become suspicious of your attraction to him.

“That’s a no, then?” He smirked and your embarrassment dissipated when you saw the prideful smile.

Damien’s eyes shifted then from your face to your inner thigh, turning his head to suck marks on it just as he had on your neckline. He bit into the supple flesh, just hard enough to leave an outline of his teeth, before kissing bruises onto the same spots. You let out a contented sigh, and he squeezed your other thigh before turning his head again to repeat the process on that side. Licking stripes up your legs and into the joint of your thigh, he stopped short of where you wanted him, letting out a hum every time you exhaled in frustration at the lack of attention your cunt was getting.

He liked riling you up, seeing your brow furrow and your cheeks redden in frustration at not getting what you had asked for.

He relented when you started whispering pleas of his name, hand buried in his hair and pulling gently at the roots for him to use his mouth on you like he had said he would. You gasped at the contact of his tongue on your clit, the way he flattened the muscle to slide over you before moving it in slow circles over your bud. His fingers dug bruises into your thighs, holding them over his shoulders and pulling you closer to him when he finally started licking circles around your hole.

“Fuck—fuck!” you couldn’t get another word out, too focused on the way he dove into you and lapped up your slick. He was messy but masterful, letting your juices and his spit trail down over the curve of your ass while making your back arch off the mattress, hand still in his hair and unsure of whether you wanted to push him down further or pull him off due to the overwhelming sensation.

The sounds were pornographic, wet and filthy, and when you pulled harder on his hair he let out a low growl that displayed his pleasure while heightening your own.

“You taste so fucking sweet,” he groaned into you, spitting onto your dripping cunt before indulging once more in your taste. You became aware of the way his hips ground into the mattress with every flick of his tongue and every mewl you let out. “Cum for me like this, baby, can you do that? Let me taste it?”

You threw your head back at his words, pressure building in your stomach at the way he clearly got so much enjoyment from making you feel good, paired with the way his teeth grazed your clit, sucking on you until you saw stars and then pulling away to do it again. One of his hands fell from your leg, and he brought it to your cunt, spitting once before pushing two fingers in. You squirmed, moaning, as he curled them towards him and fluttered them over the spongy spot inside of you. He dragged his tongue over your clit one more time, and you were catapulted over the edge, dizzy with lust, pleasure coursing through you like an electric current.

Damien moved back up the bed, hugging you to him while you trembled with the aftershocks of your orgasm, muttering words of praise.

“Did so fucking good,” he kissed the top of your head, “Such a good girl—was that ok? Are you alright?” His thumb ran over your cheek, and he dipped his head down to leave kisses in its wake.

You let out a shaky breath, adjusting your position to throw your leg over his side before wrapping your arms around him to pull him down for a kiss.

“So good.” You muttered, tasting yourself on his lips. You rolled your hips against his lazily, reaching down to trail your hand over his evident bulge. “More.”

“Yeah?” He groaned, taking in the way your hand felt on his clothed cock.

“Please.” You looked up at him through your lashes.

He reconnected his lips to yours, moving slowly and swallowing your sounds.

“You want me like this?” He whispered, hands sweeping over your body, “Gonna let me fuck you into the mattress?”

Your hips bucked on their own accord, and you nodded feverishly. He sat up, pulling you up after him, and reached under the hem of your shirt to help you remove it. He got distracted by the sight of your chest, the swell of your breasts and the way you looked at him expectantly.

“You’re so pretty,” he almost laughed, absolutely delighted by you, as he leaned down to suck a bruise on the valley between your breasts. He nipped at the pillowy skin, teeth skimming your nipple when he took it into his mouth, barely putting pressure on it until your hand flew to his hair in a gesture to make him continue, to give you more. You whimpered, sitting on your knees with his face pressed against your chest.

He stood up, removing his shirt quickly before untying the cord of his pants.

“There’s really nothing sexier than a man in pajama bottoms,” he made a face as he fumbled with the knot of the string, finally undoing it with a sharp tug.

“I’d have to agree.” You shot him a smug look and he shook his head, smiling. He situated himself back on the mattress, pushing you onto your back and kissing your neck. You let out a quiet yelp when you landed on the pillows, laughing softly. You still felt dizzy, the entire situation leaving you completely shocked but admittedly thrilled, and when you saw him looking down at you, you felt words leave your mouth before you could filter them.

“I’ve wanted this for a really long time.”

Damien smiled again, kissing your forehead before dipping down to trail kisses over your jaw. “Me too.”

“So, uh,” You let your hand wander down his body, stopping at the base of his cock and teasing your fingers around it, “You gonna fuck me into the mattress now?”

He grabbed your hand, and in a parallel to the situation that got you here, pinned it above your head.

“Is that what you want?” His pupils swallowed his irises, giving him the appearance of someone completely lost in desire. It made you greedy for more.

“Yeah.” You breathed.

“Tell me.”

“I want you to fuck me.”

“No. The whole thing. Say it.”

“I want…” You felt dirty saying it out loud, and that was half the appeal, “I want you to fuck me into the mattress.”

“That’s right. You gonna beg for it?”

You liked him like this, so cocky and domineering. It made you feel breathless, head swimming with what was to come. Dominance looked good on him.

“Please, Damien,” you swallowed, squirming slightly in anticipation.

“C’mon, you can do better than that.” He practically scoffed, “Beg.”

“Fuck me, please,” you felt yourself growing frustrated, and you could feel your heart beating in your cunt. “I was so good—I’ve been so good, please, I’ll take what you give me I promise just—please, please fuck me.”

The hand that wasn’t wrapped around your wrist fisted his cock, and you tilted your head to watch him stroke himself while he lined up with your entrance. You whined, hoping that maybe it would make him move faster.

“What did I say about being patient?” He chided, and your head fell back onto the pillows.

“Please, Damien.” You couldn’t have hidden your eagerness if you tried.

“One more time.” You felt the tip of his cock between your folds, collecting your slick and nudging your entrance.

“Please—yes!” You gasped when he pushed his hips forward, eyes rolling back slightly at the way he filled you completely in one stroke.

“Good girl.” He grabbed your other hand, now pinning both your wrists down over your head, giving him a full view of your body underneath him. “You feel good? Worth the wait?”

You nodded your head, mouth open and eyes wide, mesmerized by the stretch and the feeling of him seated deep inside of you.

“Tell me—use your words,” His own patience was wearing thin, and you could tell he was waiting for the opportunity to fuck you the way he wanted to.

“Feels so good, Damien,” you nodded again, “Move—fuck me, please.”

He exhaled, content with your answer and subsequent request. He drew his hips back far enough to nearly pull out of you, before slamming back against you and bottoming out completely. You let out a moan, and his free hand covered your mouth.

“Gotta be quiet, baby” he whispered.

You nodded underneath his hand, remembering all the other people in the house, and he pulled it away from your mouth before pushing two fingers through your lips.

“That’ll keep you busy, right?” He smiled and you moaned softly around his fingers, tongue circling them behind your lips.

Damien copied his initial sharp thrust, pushing into you with enough force to move you up the bed repeatedly, watching the way your breasts bounced with the movement. Letting go of your hands briefly, he brought one of your legs up to his shoulders, deepening the position, and you whimpered around the fingers in your mouth.

“God, you’re fucking perfect. Sound so pretty, baby” he groaned, grinding his hips against you to get a feel for how deep he was inside of you, “So pretty letting me fuck you like this.”

He took his fingers from your mouth, toying with your nipples and using the residual spit to lubricate his movements. His other hand left your wrists, focused now on holding himself above you while he drove in and out of you.

You squirmed under him, overstimulated and needy, and your newly freed hands grabbed at whatever they could hold onto; one gripping his arm, nails leaving crescents in his skin, while the other fisted the sheets, and Damien took note of the way your face contorted when his thrusts became rougher.

“You like that?” His voice was as kind as it usually was, but with an edge to it now, driving into you hard. “That feel good, baby?”

Your moans were increasingly high-pitched, and all you could offer was a jumble of reassuring whines. You pulled him down by the back of his neck, lips meeting for a feverish, passionate kiss. He bit your bottom lip, keeping it between his teeth and tugging at it, before letting his tongue push forward into your mouth.

You moaned into him, his cock pushing against your most sensitive spot. You arched your back, silently begging for more, and he followed your unspoken instructions, fingers finding your clit between your bodies and kneading tight circles over it.

You let out a ragged cry of his name, cunt squeezing around him as you came; he pulled you into him, arm wrapping under your body, to kiss you fervidly, groaning at how you felt clenching so tightly around him.

“That’s right, baby, cum for me,” he fucked you through your high; long, deep strokes at a much slower pace bringing you back down to earth, “Good fucking girl.”

“Oh my god,” you mumbled, drowsy and overstimulated, happy to be enveloped by him.

“Where do you want me, baby?” His thrusts picking back up slightly, eager for his own release.

“Anywhere you want,” you kissed up the side of his neck, whining at the feel of his cock as he dragged his hips back before sinking back into you, “Wanna make you cum, please.” You rubbed your cheek against his, the friction from his short stubble soothing you.

“You want me to cum for you?” Even now, he kept teasing, “My good girl wants me to cum for her? So fucking greedy.”

You whined, wordlessly, trying to move your hips to match his thrusts, intent on pleasing him the way he had you.

“Spit,” he offered you his hand, and you licked his palm before spitting into it.

He squeezed you tight, using the arm still underneath you to lift you up slightly and get a few last thrusts in as deep as he could manage. Upon pulling out, he fucked his fist with the hand you had prepared for him, spilling over your cunt. You whimpered at the feeling, and the thought of his cum mingling with your own between your legs.

Breathing heavy and uneven, Damien took a moment to collect himself. He leaned over the side of the bed, finding his discarded shirt and grabbing it; he wiped between your legs, careful to go slow and gentle over your more sensitive spots. He threw the shirt back over the side of the bed when he deemed you properly cleaned up.

“Thank you,” you spoke up, nuzzling into his side.

He hummed, kissing your head and moving stray hairs from your face. “Was that…it wasn’t too much, was it?”

“Damien,” you looked up at him incredulously, “It was perfect.”

“Not too rough?”

“The perfect amount of rough.”

He wrapped an arm around your shoulders, rubbing his thumb over your skin. “Did you mean what you said?”

“That I wanted to make you cum?”

“Well—mm. Kinda gathered that that was the truth. No, I mean, when you said you’ve wanted this…for a while.”

“Of course I meant it.” You fidgeted with the fingers he had draped around your shoulder. “Did you mean it when you—”

“Yeah.” He cut you off.

“You didn’t know what I was going to ask.”

“What were you going to ask?” He quipped.

“Now I’m not telling you.” You rolled your eyes, playfully turning away from him. Damien used the hand he had on your shoulder as leverage to pull you back against him, and you landed against his chest.

“Did I mean it when I said I wanted this, too?” He finished your question for you, “Yeah. I meant it. One hundred percent, I did.” He pressed his cheek against the crown of your head, “Was worried that wanting more was a, I dunno, like a…thought it would make you uncomfortable. So, I just—not that I don’t like being your friend—but I tried to behave myself. Y’know? Even though...” His gaze flicked over your face, "I always wanted more."

“Is this where you tell me that you orchestrated this whole thing by turning down the heat in here?” You joked, tired and satisfied and so utterly content that he, too, wanted more than the friendship you had cultivated with one another—thrilled that you had been on the same page all along; the initial paranoia over the implications of being attracted to the other, and now basking in the relief that your affection was mutual.

“I’m flattered that you think I have that kind of forethought. But no,” he laughed. “Just got lucky.”

“In so many respects.” You giggled, listening to his heartbeat against your cheek.

“Thanks for letting me stay.” He held you tighter, as if a loose grip would cause you to slip away from him.

“Thanks for staying.”

#damien haas #damien haas fanfiction #damien haas smut #damien haas x reader #damien haas x you #smosh #smosh fanfiction #smosh fic #smosh smut #smosh games #smosh pit #smoshblr

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sarawritestories · 8 months

Text

Unwavering Presence Chapter 3

Cassian X Archeron Sister (Reader)

Summary: Y/N looks forward to the next time her and Feyre go to the Night Court. Choosing to stay out of the way in the Spring she is visited by the High Lord and threats are made. Few months of learning how to read and Feyre finally warming up to the Night Court, the next time they return to the Spring Y/N is caught of guard and chaos ensues.

Content Warning: 18+ brief depictions of abuse, Tamlin being a dick, Ianthe appearance, unwanted groping (Not from any of our beloved night court folks or Spring court), blood, separation.

Word Count: 5.6k

chapter 2 Masterlist

A/N: I'm sorry if it seems to be a bit sped up but I simply could not bring myself to write more filler chapters! I hope you enjoy!

After my argument with Feyre, I locked myself in my room for the three weeks. Feyre had tried to come apologize and she tried to come in, but I had made sure my door was locked. I didn’t really move from my chair other than to change and sneaking into the kitchen late at night to eat. To avoid running the High Lord, Lucien or my sister.

There had been a continuous warmth on my tattooed wrist, Rhys’ reminder that I wasn’t alone. On the bad days where sleep evaded me, I tried to send back a wave of appreciation, unsure if he could feel it. Chances were he we were sleeping when I sent so he probably didn’t even know, but I did appreciate him.

Feyre and I have never had many fights and it was even rarer that the fight had resulted in us not talking and working it out. The last time was right before Tamlin took us away.

Feyre slammed her bow on the table. “You should have been here. What were you thinking going out there?” I scoffed as I dropped the wolf carcass on the table, facing my twin whose eyes flared with anger and a hint of fear. “You could have died!”

The door creaked open, and I glanced to see Nesta and Elain emerge from the bedroom. Their eyes went wide taking a look at the beast on the table. Our dad remained near the fireplace not acknowledging that Feyre and I had returned. Not like he noticed when we left. “Feyre, you could have died to. I have just as much skill at hunting like you, we work better together, and it worked out look at what we caught.” I held out my arm to show the wolf. “I love you, and I didn’t want you going out alone tonight. I’m glad I was there to help you take this beast down.”

Feyre blew up, “I could have killed you! I didn’t know you were there!”

I gave her a doubtful look and cross my arms, “I have been able to sense your presence since we have been children, you definitely knew I was there.”

Feyre ran her fingers through her brown hair not caring if she got blood in it. “Maybe I wanted to be alone, figured Nesta would give you some good quality time. At least she doesn’t despise your presence.”

My mouth dropped and quickly recovered, “Are you fucking serious, Fey? What the fuck does that mean?”

“Girls,” Our father croaked from his spot in the fireplace, only then that I noticed he was carving something in his hands. “That’s quite enough. Y/N your mother and I have taught you better than to use that type of language.”

I rolled my eyes, “Whatever you say.” I grit out and was about to push past my sisters when the door flung off its hinges and a beast with emerald eyes locked his gaze with mine.

A knock caused me to jolt from my seat and the book I was attempting to read on the table next to the chair, “Go away,” I yelled trying to conceal the fact the knock on the door frightened me.

The sound of the lock turning, and the door opens causing me to jump out of my chair, to see Tamlin strolling in. He shut the door and made a spectacle of locking the door. His eyes met mine and his eyes held nothing but cold and controlled anger. “Long time no see, Y/N.” He drawled and I tried not to shiver as fear locked up my joints. He slowly approaches me with his hands clasped behind his back, “You’re breaking Feyre’s heart you know. Locking yourself in here.” The sun from the window hit him and in any other situation I would have found his beauty mesmerizing, but his beauty looked sinister.

I crossed my arms and Tamlin takes notice of my tattoo decorating my skin before its tucked away. Feigning indifference, tucking the fear deep down and lifting my chin. “What do you want, Tamlin?” Shifting my weight back and forth.

Tamlin closed the distance, and I took a step back, “You’re coming down and having dinner with us tonight.”

I rolled my eyes, and I could hear the growl in his chest, “No thanks, as you can see, I’m quite busy here.”

Tamlin bared his teeth, “That wasn’t a request,” he took another step toward me.

“I don’t care,” I muttered and made the error of trying to step around him and in a flash, he gripped me and pinned me against the wall his muscled his hand moved from my arm and moved to my hip his free hand clamping down over my mouth. His gaze turned feral and crazed, letting his anger unleash and I could only produce a whimper through his hand.

He brought his face closer to mine and I could see the pure ire in his eyes. “Listen to me carefully. You are going to clean up, put on a pretty dress, come downstairs and apologize to Feyre for causing her stress and pain. Then you are going to eat in silence you will be seen and not heard.” I tried to yank my head, but he has my face in an iron grip, and he gripped my hip in bruising force keeping me pinned to the wall, “Like the good little human girl you are.” He released my face.

I quickly spat in his face, “Fuck-“he clamped his hand back over my mouth and I lashed against him.

Tamlin tsked, “No, no, the only thing I wanted to hear from you at all is ‘Yes Tamlin.’ And an apology to my soon to be wife.” He gripped my hip so tightly I gasped, and a tear slipped down my cheek. Tamlin kissed it away, the gesture going against his words. He met my eyes again his grin anything but comforting, “Blink if you understand, Y/N,” my name almost a snarl against his lips. I slowly blink and more tears fall. He lowers his face to kiss my forehead and I thrash my hands trying to push him away, but I couldn’t move him. He pulled away and released my body giving my cheek a not so tender pat, “Good Girl. Now go clean up there will be a dress on your bed,” he turned and made his way to the exit.

I wrapped my arms around myself, and I noticed Tamlin paused, “Oh and Y/N,” He turned his hand still on the handle, “Make no mistake if you don’t come down, I will drag you to the dining hall and tie you to the chair. Feyre’s happiness is important to me I will do anything to keep a smile on her face.” With that he left, and I let the emotions of the interaction fully take over and slide down the wall and bury my face in my knees to stifle the uncontrollable sobs. I barely notice how warm and tingling my tattoo is through the tears.

Cassian’s POV

I sat in the lounge of the townhouse with Rhys, there was a throbbing in my chest that caused discomfort. I rubbed my chest, but the pain wouldn’t subside, it felt like my heart was aching. I creased my eyebrows sadness consumed me and I rubbed that spot tighter as I closed my eyes.

“Cass, you alright?” Rhys’ voice pulled me from the wave of emotion overtaking me.

“I just have this weird feeling; my chest feels tight.”

Rhys gave me his full attention, his glass of whiskey forgotten. “Do you need me to get Madja?”

I shook my head, “No, just feels like something is wrong.” Another wave overwhelmed me, I closed my eyes, and I took a deep breath to neutralize myself. When I opened my eyes, my brother had a painful expression on his face. He was gripping his glass tightly his knuckles were white. “What is it?” I asked.

Rhy formed his lips into a tight line, and he clenched his hands into a fist, “Something is wrong over there,” he gritted through his teeth as he rubbed his left arm, causing me straightened I didn’t need him to fill me in. “She is sending utter turmoil down the bond.”

I grimace, “What kind of male torments their partner like that. To cause that much dread.”

Rhys shook his head, his eyes meeting mine the stars winking out, “It’s not Feyre, Cass.” My grip on my own glass tightened, “It’s Y/N’s.” Rhys stood and downed the rest of his drink.

Rhys began to walk out, and I called out, “Where are you going?”

“It’s the beginning of the new month, brother.” Rhys turned and winked at me, and darkness consumed him as he winnowed out of town house.

Reader’s POV

After a bath and getting the tears to finally stop I walked into the bedroom, taking a look at my hip fortunately there was no bruising from Tamlin’s grip. A lilac dress was laid out for me. The gossamer fabric chaffed my skin. The skirts were heavy against my hips, the spot where Tamlin squeezed still tender, I closed my eyes and took a few deep breaths and my wrist tingled. I looked down and grazed my tattoo calm washing over me, “Thanks Rhys.” I whispered.

I walked over to the door and opened it to find Feyre on the other side biting her nail, a nervous habit she started when we were kids. Her eyes widened as she saw what I assumed is my puffy eyes from crying, and in turn I saw how her eyes looked bruised and I know she has still not been sleeping, “Hi.” She whispered.

I drifted my gaze to my feet, “Hi.” I looked back at her and look at her thin frame and her sunken cheeks and Tamlin’s words flooded my brain.

You’re breaking Feyre’s heart.

Guilt racks through me as I lightly pull her hand from her mouth, “Feyre, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to lash out at you.”

Feyre squeezed my hand, “No, I am sorry. I know that this transition has been hard on you. I should have been more considerate to your feelings.”

I gave her a small smile tears pooling in my eyes again, “Let’s just put it behind us,” I patted her hand with my trembling one.

If you don’t come down, I will drag you to the dining hall and tie you to the chair.

“Y/N, you look like you’ve seen a ghost, and you’re trembling like a leaf. Do you want to lie down I can tell Tamlin you’re not-“

“No!” I blurted, causing Feyre to step back stunned. I composed myself, smoothing my skirts willing my hands to stop shaking, “Let’s just go have dinner with our…friends.” Feyre beamed at me referring to Tamlin and Lucien as friends as I tried to keep the bile from creeping up. We made our way to the dining hall. The closer we got the more nervous I became even the comfort of the tattoo felt vacant. I was trying to keep my hands from shaking by keeping them clasped.

The doors opened as we approached and Lucien and Tamlin were standing in their seats, snarling at something and as we got deeper into the dining hall to find Rhysand his hand tucked into his pockets. Feyre stilled and I fought every instinct to run and hug him. “Fuck you, Rhysand, we are to have a nice dinner. You can’t just take them.”

“Per our agreement it doesn’t matter when I come pick them up in the month.” Rhys spoke with cool indifference. “But I am a reasonable male,” He turned to us, “Ladies, I’ll give you the choice you can enjoy the meal with the High Lord and his loyal pet,” Lucien scowled, “Or we can go right now.”

Feyre moved to her seat by Tamlin Rhys tracking her entire movement, “I would like to have a meal before being whisked away.”

Rhys pulled his gaze away from Feyre and met mine. For a moment, I looked at Tamlin and could see his lips move the message clear Sit down. I met his gaze to his and hoped he understood what I was trying to convey with my eyes as I began to move to the seat next to my sister.

Don’t leave, please don’t leave. Don’t go.

Rhysand meandered to a seat on the opposite end of the table as Tamlin growled the claws peeking from his knuckles, “They want to have dinner, you can come back when their done.”

Rhys pulled the chair and plopped in it kicking his feet up as if he owned the place. “Where’s your hospitality, High Lord? I think it’s best I stay and join you. I’m sure Feyre and Y/N wouldn’t mind.”

Feyre scowled and I just lowered my gaze, finding the skirts of my dress very interesting as I took a seat. “Fine.” Tamlin grumbled and food appeared on each plate filled with lavish meats and cheeses.

I looked at the table and Tamlin’s fierce gaze met mine, “Y/N, so wonderful for you to finally join us tonight, care to say anything to Feyre.”

“Tamlin, leave her be she already apologized to me.” Feyre scolded her hand gripping my thigh with a gentle squeeze.

Tamlin bristled and I shifted in my seat under his scrutinizing gaze, “Well I’m glad she apologized. Let’s try to have a meal together with everyone present moving forward.” I looked to Lucien who avoided eye contact with me...Coward.

Feyre gave a small smile, “Sounds great.”

I moved my food around with my fork, not having an appetite. I felt a prickle in the back of my mind. You need to eat. I tried to reign in the shock of Rhys’ voice in my head. You BOTH do.

I looked at him, to see he was eating the food, but his eyes were locked on me and Feyre, I looked to my sister, and noticed she was doing the same thing. Looking at the High Lord of the Spring and his emissary, the two were engaged in their own conversation eating paying us no mind. I took a few bites of my food and out of the corner of my eye I saw Feyre following suit.

One the meal was finished Rhys stood and Feyre rising from hers, Tamlin reached to grab her hand and she casually moved her hand. I made a note to ask her about it when we’re alone. Feyre gave him a small weak smile, “We’ll see you in a week.”

A hand lightly gripped my shoulder, I looked up and met Rhys’ gaze, “Ready to go?” I nodded and rose from my seat. His hand slid down my arm and gripped my hand. “Feyre Darling,” Her gaze met his as he held out hiss free hand for her to take. She approached him with less fury than the first time we went to the Night Court. When she places her hand in his we are consumed by the darkness, and we are back in Rhys’ home. Feyre looked at me, “I’m going to go to bed. You are coming?”

Rhys gave Feyre a comforting grin, “She will be there in a moment. I need to talk to her real quick.” Feyre to my surprise give him a silent nod and her lips curve slightly upward and I swore that Rhys stopped breathing for a moment. “Good night, High Lord.” She said and turned and headed back to our shared room.

Rhys turned to me, and I averted my gaze to my hands that were interlaced. “Y/N, look at me,” I refused and kept my gaze on my hands, look at me, please his voice echoed in your mind. I sighed and met his gaze, “What happened? I felt an unnerving turmoil earlier today through,” he grabbed my arm with the tattoo. “It was like you were screaming down the bond.”

I slipped my arm from his grasp, and he let me, “I don’t want to talk about it.” I murmured wrapping my arms around myself, “I doubt you would believe me anyway.”

Rhys scowled, “You don’t have to tell me what happened. You don’t have to talk to me. But don’t ever say that I wouldn’t believe you. The pain I felt today was real your pain was real.” Rhys’ face softened, “Just don’t bury this down and forget about it, it will eat you alive, okay?”

I gave him a nod and he turned to leave probably to head to his own room, “He pinned me against a wall,” I blurted, and it caused him to still, he turned, and I could feel the tears building up as I placed my trembling fingers over my mouth, “He clamped my mouth so tight I thought he would break my jaw and he gripped my hip to keep me pinned to the wall.” I sobbed and Rhys in three strides made his way back and without saying anything else wrapped me in his arms and I let the sobs take over and buried my face in his shirt. A comforting hand placed on back of my head and he rubs my back in almost a brotherly way. “I tried to push him away and I couldn’t,” whether he could understand the words and tears just wouldn’t stop. “He told me I needed to remain silent except to apologize to Feyre for locking myself in my room. He said that he going to tie me to a chair and force me there.”

Rhys arms were the only thing keeping me upright, “It’s okay.” He whispered pressed his cheek atop of my head, as my sobs racked out of my body. “What can I do? Tell me what I can do to help you.”

There was a calm emotion that slowed down my sobs slowed, I take a deep breath, “Can you help me not feel as weak and powerless as I felt today? I never want to feel that way again.”

“Yes, you will never have to feel that way again.” He pushed away and looked at me, wiping tears from my cheeks. “I can train you.” I nodded in agreement as exhaustion began to take over my body. “It’s been a long day,” I gave him another nod, “Want to go to your room?” He gripped one of my hands, “I can take you there.”

I shook my head and his brows furrowed, “Can I go to the library?” He smiled and gave the top of my hand he held a kiss.

“Of course, you can, let me take you.” I gave him a small smile and sniffled as he led me to the library. The small journey was quiet, but the door opened, and the books came into view. “Tomorrow, we can start your reading lessons I’m hoping your sister will want to partake as well.” I turned to him, and he held hope in his eyes that Feyre would be willing. “We can start training whenever you want, Y/N. I’m sorry I couldn’t come sooner.”

He released my hand and began to walk away. I grabbed his hand again and he looked back at me, “I don’t know what I can say. What I can do to repay for your kindness.” And I wrapped my arms around his neck, “Thank you, Rhysand.”

He returned the embrace, “You don’t need to thank me.” He pulled away and cupped my cheek, “Have a good night, Y/N.” He places a chaste kiss to my forehead and heads deeper into the hall. I walked into the library and the fireplace lit and I welcomed the warmth as I sat on the large chair. Sinking into the cushion I laid my head back and in the comfort of the library my eyes shut, and sleep overtook me.

Cassian’s POV

She looked beautiful and peaceful on the library chair fast asleep. Rhys had casually let me know she would be there and before I went to bed after a long day in Windhaven, I stopped by to see if she might have needed anything and found her sound asleep. Rhys didn’t tell me what happened in Tamlin’s court, but he had mentioned that she was interested in training. The red around her nose and the smell of dried tears told me she had been crying and my mind only went to the worst-case scenario of what happened.

Leaning off the door I tucked my wings to not have them drag across the floor I approached, Y/N’s sleeping form, the way her neck was angled she would wake up in immense pain. I lightly scooped her in my arms trying my best not to wake her, she only stirred to move her head and leaned it against my chest and the sweet smell of Jasmine and lilacs flooded my nose. She smelled as beautiful as she was. I walked over to the couch that was placed right in between two bookshelves against the wall and lay her down making sure her head pressed against the pillow. The house placed a blanket in my arms and in no hesitation, I placed the blanket on her. She snuggled against the softness of the blanket and let out a content sigh.

I smiled and tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear, “Sleep well, Sweetheart.” And with that I left the library and went to my room.

Reader’s POV

The next morning, I woke up and found myself on the couch in the library, and there was a blanket over me. I remember falling asleep on the chair, but don’t remember moving. The scent of leather and Sandalwood lingered in the room and was a comforting embrace. Feyre opened the door her eyes frantic, “There you are! I was so worried!” She donned a peach dress that fitted her figure with sheer sleeves that had rhinestones on it. Her hair was pinned back to the side, and she looked beautiful even though the dress looked like it was wearing her.

I stretched and smiled at her, “Sorry, Fey, I fell asleep in here. I like it in here.” I sat up and put the blanket to the side, “I’m hungry.”

Feyre nodded, “Well go change and we will go get breakfast.” I nodded and went to the bedroom to change into a purple top with sheer puffy sleeves that showed a little more cleavage with matching pants and put my hair in a simple braid and made my way to breakfast.

At breakfast Rhys broke the news to my sister that we would be learning to read, write and shield against Daemati fae, which he explained to me is how he was able to speak to me in my mind. That went as well as I anticipated but with some coercing, she joined me in the office to get our first lesson. “I don’t understand why you care about our education.” Feyre grumbled.

“Oh, are you saying having this ability wouldn’t have been useful under the mountain?” I stilled at his question and Feyre went pale and silent. “We don’t know what the future holds, its in my best interest to have you two, well versed and ready for anything.”

He explained to us how to put up mental shields that we worked on, and we spent an hour writing the ridiculous phrases that made Feyre roll her eyes and mutter, “Insufferable,” causing me to chuckle. After an hour of Rhys scolding us for keeping our shields up and checking our work, he released us for the day. Feyre and I went back to the room and fell into a comfortable silence and that evening I went back to the library and grabbed a book to practice my reading.

The rest of the week was spent that way shielding, reading and writing and towards the end, Feyre was eating more and smiling more to Rhysand which I swore the High Lord soaked in her smiles like sun rays. When we returned to the Spring Court, we both spent some time together reading and despite my utter disgust I would join for meals to appease Tamlin and keep his temper at bay.

Months went by and fell into the same rhythm. Rhys threw in a few fighting lessons, but we started with balance and stretching. He said he would only show me the basics but when his General came home that I would start training with him for more intricate training. I wanted to ask Rhys what Cassian’s role was in his court or just even to learn more about him, but I refrained, I didn’t want to pry, and he never wanted to divulge in the members of his court.

I could tell after Rhysand dropped us off that both Feyre and I were feeling better and stronger as Feyre was begging Tamlin to go out and hunt and help the people in town and met with stonewall refusal. So, she would dive into reading with me, but her face was fuller, and light shone back into her eyes, the color in her hair was vibrant again. Turns out that verbal sparring with Rhys was doing something for her.

Dinner that night after Tamlin told Feyre he didn’t want her hunting, Tamlin was utterly sweet, to her and to me. I welcomed the change even if Ianthe had graced us with her presence and her saccharine grin making my skin crawl. It felt as though things were finally falling into place. I drank the wine that Ianthe had poured for me and when I went to my room, sleep overpowered me and I moved to my bed my head landing on the pillow as I slipped into unconsciousness not even realizing that I had left my door wide open.

I awoke with a start as the warm breeze caressed my bare skin, I sat upright my surroundings spinning but trees surrounded me, I was in the forest. Someone had put a sheer nightgown on me my hands were bound behind my back and female laughter caused my blood to chill. I turned my head to find Ianthe there. “Ianthe, help me please.”

She approached me and gone was any warmth in her features and cold viper took her place as she crouched to meet my eyes, “I’m under Tamlin’s orders. To take you far away from the manor”

I gritted my teeth, “Bullshit, he wouldn’t hurt my sister that way!” I sent panic down the bond in hopes that Rhys would be able to answer my call.

Ianthe stroked a finger down my cheeks moving to my neck and down to my clavicle, “Unless we tell her you ran away.”

Fear ran down my spine I masked it with indifference, “You think she would believe that I would abandon her like that.”

Ianthe traced her finger right above the swell of my breast and I jerked away from her, “Well we could also say that you were influenced by the Naga lured out by a lesser fae and with your fragile human body you couldn’t resist.” I bit my lip, and she smirked knowing she would believe that as she held a dagger and sliced quickly above my clavicle, and I hissed, refusing to scream. Though she sliced off one of the straps to my night gown. She placed a kiss to my cheek before she murmured, “I’d run if I were you. Won’t be long before the monsters that live in these woods smell your blood and come looking for you.” And with that she vanished.

I gritted through my teeth as I rose to my knees, ignoring the pain of twigs and rocks pressing into my knees as I rose to my bare feet and began to run. I wasn’t sure which way I was running and there was minimal moon light to help but I just kept running and sending my fear down the bond. Even opening my mind:

Rhys, help. Please help me!

There was no response, but I kept pushing, kept sending waves of fear down our tattoo and shouting my thoughts in hopes he would hear. It felt like hours I was in there before I tripped over a stump I didn’t see and fell hard on my back. My vision blurred as my head collided with something hard, but the silence was palpable in the forest. My breathing was labored, and I could feel the warmth trickle of blood running down my face. I knew my feet were cut up, but I still rose to my knees and willed myself to try and stand. Dizziness dropped me back to my knees and a sob raked out of me. “Rhysand, please.” I whispered.

A low chuckle echoed behind me, and I began to tremble. “What a delicious treat we have brother, a human girl” The sound of slithering made me want to vomit but I forced the bile down and kept my head down. The slithering halted and the images of the Naga Feyre had painted flooded my memory the serpent-like creatures with talons and vile creatures.

Another low sinister voice followed, “What a pretty little thing and tied up just like a present.” A sharp finger moved my hair away to look at my bleeding wound. I looked up and met yellow eyes and a pink serpent tongue sticking out. The hand that moved my hair gripped the back of my neck and I whimpered as the Naga licked the trail of blood from my forehead. The free hand groping my exposed breast, the beast hummed in approval, “She is delicious.” The Naga gripped my hair and I yelped in pain as he approached, bringing his mouth closer to mine but keeping my head in place so I couldn’t move.

Rhys, I think I’m going to die. If I do, it was an honor being your friend.

I could have sobbed when Rhys’ voice came into my head.

No one will be dying tonight.

There was a slash of metal and the howl of the Naga who was gripping me as he was yanked away a flash of blue propelling it back. The sound of wings booming above and a thud on the ground. I couldn’t see my savior’s face only that blue gems blazed in the night as he approached the creature that put its hands on me with a blade in his hand.

The creature’s brother tried to slither its tail around my waist only to be met with steel cutting in clean off. A blast of red power forced the beast back against the tree. The Naga was about to approach again ready for a fight when a dagger flew and landed right in between its eyes, and it slumped back against the trees. The clouds parted and moonlight was able to help me see but a hand grabbed my shoulder and a jerked out of the grip turning slightly to meet familiar hazel eyes. His eyes held fear and he held his hands out palms open, “Y/N, do you remember me?” He whispered.

I nodded, “Cassian,” I whispered my voice hoarse and dry.

Cassian gave me a warm smile, “Good, Can I untie you?” I nodded again and he took another dagger and made his way behind me to cut my ties as the other winged male approached. My hands were free, and Cass took my hands in his and began to massage my wrists to bring the circulation back into my hands. “Is this, okay?” he asked, ignoring his friend who had just approached. I nodded again words not forming.

The other male knelt and gave me a small smile, his eyes a similar hazel to Cassian’s but just like Rhys and Cassian he was utterly beautiful, “I have heard a lot about you, Archeron.” His voice was pure honey, “I’m Azriel.”

I give him a small wave. Cassian released my hand and slid off his jacket sliding it over my shoulders to cover me. I slide my arms into the sleeves. “We have to get going before more come.” Cassian whispered to me, “Will you let me carry you?”

I nod but force myself to say, “Don’t bring me back to the Spring Court.” I whisper as my eyes met his and pain flashes in those eyes. “Please.”

“You are not going back there, Sweetheart. We’re taking you home.” Cassian scoops me up and holds me close to his chest, where the scent of sandalwood and leather fills my nose and my eyes widened, was he there that day in the library? Did he move me over to the couch? My thoughts whirled but the dizziness caused me to lay my head on his chest. “You alright?” He murmured the words thrumming from his chest causing warmth to spread through my body.

“I hit my head, and a little dizzy but I’ll be alright.” Azriel rose nodding to his friend and gripped Cassian’s arm as darkness consumed us until we emerged into a house I had never seen before.

Rhys was in the hall his eyes frantic, “Mother above, Is she alright? Where's Feyre?”

Tears welled up at my conversation with Ianthe bubbled to the surface of never seeing Feyre again, “I'm alright” I croaked, “They’re going to make her think I’m dead.” I whisper and tear slips from my face. Cassian’s grip tightens on me his thumb rubbing circles on my back, and I wrap my arms around his neck and bury my face letting his scent soothe me.

"Who is?" Cassian asked.

"Tamlin and Ianthe." I whimper as pain erupts from my head. I pressed on, "They are going to tell her I abandoned her."

Rhys sounded as though he was clenching his teeth, “Cassian go take her to one of the rooms upstairs and have Madja come take a look at her.” I could hear his footsteps and a hand was on my arm giving it a comforting squeeze, “I’ll check on her in the morning.”

You didn't abandon her and when she sees you again she will know that Rhys' words in my mind brought me comfort as I heard his steps walk away with what I assume was Azriel's not far behind.

With that Cassian took me up the stairs and into the room I took a look around there were two twin sized beds and he laid me down on the one farthest from the window, He looked at the wound on my head, "I'm going to go get our healer, I'll be right back." He got up and I on instinct grabbed for his hand, hissing at my fast movement.

"Stay. Please don't leave me." I whispered.

He bit his lip and he nodded he looked off into the distance for a long moment and then he grabbed the chair from the small desk and brought it by my bedside. "Rhys, is calling for our healer." He sat letting his wings dip slightly as he grips my hand again and rubs the top of my hand. The soothing motion lulling me into a dreamless sleep.

Chapter 4

Story Tags: @hellodarling1357 @hnyclover @waytoomanyteenagefeels @amara-moonlight @impossibelle @esposadomd @sleepylunarwolf @stressed-reader @kylaisra @marvelouslovely-barnes @magicstrengthandcourage @spideytingley @awkardnerd @donttellthecats @Tastydewdrops @vermillionwinter @asweetblueberry2 @bunnyredgirl @homeslices @azriels-mate2 @oksloan3 @wallacewillow0773638 @fandom-crashlanding @writingstreetspirit @hannzoaks @minnieoo

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