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leona-hawthorne · 18 days ago

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LEONA-HAWTHORNE’S FICMAS

december 23rd. mattheo riddle — he’s mine!

mattheo riddle x fem reader

summary ; it seems to be a little hard to get into the christmas spirit when your little sister is hogging your boyfriend! words ; 1.4k warnings ; fluff, established relationship

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It had been your idea to bring Mattheo home for Christmas. Of course it had. You’d argued for it, certain your parents wouldn’t mind—and they didn’t. In fact, they’d been surprisingly enthusiastic about it. They liked Mattheo, for one, and they knew enough about his home life—or lack thereof—to see why he might need an escape for the holidays. Besides, the thought of leaving him behind in that cold, empty manor while you went off to bake cookies and trim trees with your family felt unbearable.

What you hadn’t planned for was your little sister.

The moment she saw Mattheo, her eyes went wide, her lips parted in a tiny gasp, and for once, she didn’t have a single smart remark. You’d expected her usual groaning protest of Ew, boys are gross or Whatever, he’s probably boring. But instead, she just stood there staring up at him, as though he were some sort of fairy tale prince who’d stepped straight out of one of her bedtime stories.

“Hey,” Mattheo had said gently, crouching down to her level. He had that rare, soft smile on his face—the one he reserved only for you, and apparently now, six-year-old girls. “You must be the famous little sister. I’ve heard all about you.”

Her face had turned scarlet, and she’d ducked behind your leg, clutching your jeans for dear life. You’d raised an eyebrow at Mattheo, trying to stifle a laugh. Well, this is new.

From then on, it was as though she’d claimed him. Every time you turned around, there she was, dragging him off for some new adventure. At first, it was cute. Endearing, even. She’d taken him by the hand to show him the ornaments she’d made for the tree, chattering on about how she’d painted the reindeer one herself. He’d listened patiently, nodding and smiling as though her ramblings were the most fascinating thing he’d ever heard.

But then it escalated.

By the second day, you found them at her little pink tea table, tiny porcelain cups in hand. Mattheo’s long legs were awkwardly folded beneath him as he pretended to sip imaginary tea. You’d leaned in the doorway, arms crossed, biting your lip to keep from laughing.

“Really?” you’d asked, grinning. “A tea party?”

“She made me a very convincing argument,” Mattheo replied, deadpan, though the corners of his mouth twitched with amusement. “Also, I think this is her way of letting me know who’s in charge here.”

You’d laughed then, shaking your head, but something about the way your sister beamed up at him had made you pause.

It wasn’t long before her demands grew bolder. She’d roped him into baking cookies—flour dusted all over his dark jumper—and insisted he give her a piggyback ride around the house. And though Mattheo obliged her every request with good-natured patience, you couldn’t help but feel a twinge of annoyance.

Because every time you tried to steal a moment alone with him, she was already there, wedged firmly between the two of you.

On the third day, you figured maybe it was time to steal back your boyfriend.

“Where is he?” you muttered, stalking through the house. The smell of gingerbread lingered in the air, and somewhere, you could hear your sister’s giggles echoing down the hall.

You found them in the living room. She was perched on Mattheo’s back, her little arms wrapped tightly around his neck as he crawled on all fours, pretending to be a dragon.

“Really?” you said, crossing your arms as you stood in the doorway.

Mattheo glanced up at you, his curls falling into his eyes. He was grinning. “What?”

“She’s hogging you,” you said, your voice teetering on the edge of a whine.

“She’s six,” he replied, raising an eyebrow. “You jealous of a six-year-old?”

“What? No, I just– you know what? You two have fun, I’m gonna go help my mom with wrapping.”

And by the fourth day, you’d had enough.

You didn’t know whether to scoff or to smile as you watched Mattheo from the doorway of the kitchen. He stood at the counter, sleeves rolled up, flour dusting his dark shirt as he helped your little sister roll out sugar cookie dough. His hands were comically large compared to hers, yet he moved with such careful precision, as if afraid to crush her tiny fingers by accident.

Your sister giggled, a sound that echoed through the space like a bell, and your chest tightened at how easily Mattheo coaxed that sound from her. It was endearing—no, more than endearing. It was heartwarming. But also…infuriating.

You stepped into the room, leaning against the counter as you folded your arms. “How’s it going in here?”

Mattheo glanced up at you, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “It’s going great. We’re making masterpieces, aren’t we, kid?”

Your sister nodded vigorously, her pigtails bouncing as she beamed up at him. “Mattheo says my snowman looks perfect!”

You raised a brow, biting back a smile. “Perfect, huh? Even though his head is sliding off his body?”

Mattheo chuckled, brushing a streak of flour off his arm. “It’s an abstract snowman,” he said smoothly, turning back to the dough. “He’s got character.”

Your sister giggled again, clearly thrilled by his attention, and you felt the beginnings of that familiar pang of annoyance. You’d invited Mattheo here for you, not so he could spend every waking moment entertaining your sister.

“Right,” you said, stepping closer and nudging him lightly with your hip. “Well, I’m stealing him now. We were supposed to watch a movie, remember?”

Mattheo looked over at you, his dark eyes sparkling with amusement. “Baby, are you jealous of a six-year-old?”

Your mouth opened, indignation flaring to life, but before you could respond, your sister tugged on his sleeve. “Wait! We still have to make the reindeer cookies! You promised!”

Mattheo crouched slightly, bringing himself to her level as he smiled at her. “And we’ll make those, I swear. But your big sister’s giving me that look, and I think I’d better listen to her before she drags me out of here.”

You rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t help the way your lips twitched upward. “I’m not giving you a look.”

“Oh, you’re giving me a look,” he teased, standing to his full height and brushing his hands off on a towel. He leaned closer, lowering his voice so only you could hear. “You’re practically glaring at me. I’d almost say it’s cute.”

“Don’t push your luck, Riddle,” you muttered, though your cheeks burned at the way his breath ghosted against your skin.

Your sister pouted, crossing her arms. “But Mattheo—”

“I’ll be back,” he promised her, giving her a playful wink. “And when I am, we’ll make the best reindeer cookies anyone’s ever seen. Deal?”

She huffed, clearly not pleased, but she nodded anyway, her pout softening.

You grabbed Mattheo’s wrist, tugging him toward the living room before your sister could protest again. “Come on. You’re mine, remember?”

He let you pull him away, laughing softly under his breath. Once you reached the living room, you rounded on him, poking a finger at his chest. “You’re supposed to be spending time with me. Me, Mattheo. Not my sister. Me.”

“Is this really happening right now?” he asked, smirking down at you. “You’re actually jealous of a six-year-old.”

“Okay, first of all, I’m not jealous,” you shot back, though your words sounded more defensive than you intended. “I just don’t like sharing, especially when it’s you. And second, it’s not my fault she suddenly decided she loves boys after swearing for years that they had cooties!”

Mattheo grinned, his hands coming up to rest on your hips. “So what you’re saying is…I’m irresistible.”

You groaned, dropping your face into your hands. “You’re impossible.”

“And yet, you love me anyway.”

You peeked at him through your fingers, finding his gaze soft and affectionate, his smirk less teasing now and more genuine. Your frustration melted away as quickly as it had come, replaced by a warm, fluttery feeling in your chest.

“Yeah,” you admitted, dropping your hands and stepping closer to him. “I do.”

“And for the record,” he murmured, leaning down until his lips brushed your temple, “I’m yours. Always.”

ficmas taglist: @winnie1emon @ur-local-wizard @satosugu4-ever @ankoluvs @superstargirll @slytherin-princess-x @abeoavita @mattheoriddle101 @georgiastars13 @smoooore @mattheoriddles-sluttt @2dloveshp @mattysprincess @catching-fire-in-the-wind @revesephemeres @esmerai-artemis @clar2aa @iamaconfusedpan

#mattheo riddle #slytherin boys #mattheo riddle x reader #mattheo riddle x you #mattheo riddle x y/n #mattheo riddle x fem!reader #mattheo riddle fluff #mattheo riddle fanfic #harry potter #slytherin #fluff #benjamin wadsworth #ficmas #leona-hawthorne ficmas

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taeyongdoyoung · 2 months ago

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wicked game

summary: you try to seduce the unpopular virgin to win a bet with your stepbrother. your stepbrother wants to sleep with you and you want his car. but the virgin guy has more to offer... pairing: loser virgin!haechan x popular girl!reader genre: angst, romance, smut, high school setting warnings: the bet trope my beloved, manipulative stepbrother!jeno, ex-boyfriend!mark, innapropriate groping in school, one non-consensual cheek kiss, past man-eater y/n, lowkey corruption kink, lots of kissing, handjob, blowjob, eating out, attachment issues, protected sex (unbelievable), classmates to lovers, non-consensual photo-taking, breakfast in bed, break-up, no pain no gain author's note: this is loosely based on the movie Cruel Intentions minus the dying part; disclaimer: this is a work of fiction, i don't actually think Jeno is an A-hole, i just needed such a character for the sake of the plot word count: 3.7k

You're bored. Being the most popular, prettiest and richest girl in high school is not enough to satisfy your greed. Boys are literally throwing themselves at you in every corner. It's almost too easy. You want a challenge. Something to make the last year of school a memorable one. Something fun.

So, when your stepbrother Jeno presents you with an idea, you accept it eagerly.

"If you're so bored, why don't I propose a bet?"

"What kind of a bet?" you eye him curiously.

"See that guy Haechan? I heard he's a virgin and saving himself for his one ~true love~. How fucking pathetic is that?"

"So? What is it to me?" you scoff, though you already have a feeling where this is going.

"If you manage to seduce that fucking loser, I'll give you my Jaguar."

"Oh, that's very tempting," you smirk. "And if I don't?"

"Then, you'll sleep with me," Jeno whispers in your ear.

"Ew, as if. You're my brother," you make a gagging motion.

"Stepbrother," Jeno points out.

"Still, it's gross," you shake your head.

"Are you scared you'll lose?" Jeno sticks his tongue out.

"I haven't agreed to the bet yet," you answer.

But Jeno knows you too well. You are already thinking of ways to ruin that poor boy Haechan.

You approach him that same day, sitting on the empty seat on his desk. Asking him to do homework together...

"Why would I want to spend time with you?" Haechan spits out.

Ouch. Little one is too feisty for a regular loser. This might be more interesting than you initially thought.

"Why not? If you hang out with me, people will think you're cool," you try to attack where you believe it'll sting.

"So? Popularity isn't everything, you know?" Haechan rolls his eyes. "Besides, people who peak in high school spend the rest of their lives leading a mediocre, non-satisfying existence."

Damn. Pretty harsh. You didn't anticipate this would be so difficult. Oh well, all the more motivation to try harder.

"You admit it, then? That I'm at my peak right now," you smile flirtatiously, running a finger across his face.

"It doesn't matter to me where you think you are," Haechan glares at you, grabbing your finger and removing it from his skin. "As long as you get out of my face."

Gee, so aggressive.

"Did I ever do something to you?"

"No, but you messed with my best friend Mark's head. Leading him to believe you cared for him and then ditching him is so not cool. Now, piss off," Haechan grunts angrily.

You don't even remember half of the names of the guys you slept with. But you do remember Mark. He was really sweet. And if you could feel something at all, it would have been guilt. But back when you were with Mark, your mother had just announced she's getting re-married to Jeno's father. So, you were angry at everyone and everything. And you took it all out on Mark.

"Well, I can't change the past, so don't blame me without knowing the circumstances."

"It doesn't matter anyway. Mark found a girl much better than you who's treating him right."

"What about you? Got someone special taking care of you?" you touch him again, this time more forward and shameless, trying to elicit a reaction out of him. Sneaking your hand underneath the desk and caressing him fondly.

"It's n-none of your b-business," Haechan stammers but he doesn't remove your hand this time. Oh, he's so touch-starved this is going to be a lot of fun. For you.

"I could take care of you, you know? Turn all your wildest dreams into reality."

"I know what you are," Haechan shakes his head.

"A vampire!" you gasp in mock surprise.

"Ha-ha, very funny," Haechan fakes a smile. "You're a man-eater. You fuck around with guys and then you leave them to rot. I want nothing to do with you."

"Really? Then, why haven't you removed my hand yet?" you remind him, though perhaps you shouldn't have.

Haechan grabs your wrist, pushing you away firmly.

"You're wrong, you know," you try to convince him of your sincerity. "I'm just as eager to find someone who loves me. Someone worth staying for."

"And what, you expect me to believe that someone is me?" Haechan stares at you sceptically.

"Let's find out, shall we?" you give him a quick kiss on the cheek before he can escape.

And then, you let him be. Enough torture for day one.

You start interacting with Haechan every day. During the first month, you are consumed with thoughts of Jeno's bet. The abominable idea of sleeping with your stepbrother is enough to keep you going. Of course, you know he's not gonna force you into it. But you need the motivation to not lose the bet anyway. The gorgeous car is also pretty seductive.

During the second month, you are consumed with thoughts of Haechan. You begin to realize how lovely, clever and funny he is. And the fact he's even letting you spend time with him is enough to make you happy. You're no longer bored. Because everyday you have something fun to look forward to. You spend time at the school library, doing homework together, occasionally sending memes to each other. You go on little walks and picnics at the park. You even go to the cinema a couple of times, bonding over your shared love for horror movies.

During the third month, the miracle happens. Haechan decides he trusts you enough to invite you over to his place one evening. He even makes the point of notifying you that his parents aren't home. What does he mean by that? Is this an opportunity for you to finally seduce him?

Naturally, you don't get much homework done, before Haechan starts kissing you out of nowhere. You kiss him back eagerly.

"W-what are you doing?" you ask as you notice Haechan has started unbuttoning his jeans.

"I t-thought you wanted this. S-sorry," Haechan looks down, feeling ashamed all of a sudden. He's in a hurry to zip himself again. God, you feel so cruel.

"I d-do," you admit, no longer giving a shit about that stupid bet. "But I don't want to rush you into anything you're not ready for."

"So, you've heard about what I said at that fucking party?"

"What did you say?" you ask, even though you have an idea of what it involves.

"That I'm saving it for someone special," It being his virginity, you suppose. "Someone who loves me. To be honest, I was really drunk that night. I don't care all that much anymore."

"It's okay to have your principles, Haechan," you try to reassure him and stroke his soft hair gently. "I think it's pretty admirable, actually."

Haechan shakes his head, visibly disagreeing.

"Well, it's fine. I'm ready for this, I promise. Just...don't leave right after, okay?" he pouts.

"Oh, Haechan, of course I won't leave," you reply and surprise yourself in that you really mean it.

Kissing him deeper, you finish what he started and take off his jeans. You touch his cock softly, as if it's the most precious thing in the world. You've done this hundreds of time with guys you didn't give a fuck about and felt nothing, the actions methodical and quick. But this, right now, is more special than your limited vocabulary could ever describe. You realize you genuinely don't want to hurt him. You bow down and envelop your lips around his length. He gets hard easily, considering it's his first time. You suck on him a couple of times and he cums even faster than you anticipated. But for some reason, it's never tasted sweeter.

"S-sorry," Haechan mumbles shyly.

"It's okay, my sweet boy," you coo in his ear, after you're done swallowing his cum. You run your hands through his hair once again. God, it's so silky. You could never get enough of him.

"W-what do I d-do now?" he asks cutely.

"Whatever you want, mon ange," you kiss him once more.

"C-can I eat you out?" Haechan inquires.

Oh, so virgin boy is not so clueless, after all.

"Sure, I guess," you shrug. Not really a huge fan of that, the few times guys have offered, they quickly grow tired of it and could never make you cum as hard as you could by yourself. But it's okay. If Haechan wants to...

"Just...guide me, okay?" he pleads adorably and soon, you find out he needs no guidance at all.

What he lacks in experience, he definitely makes up for with enthusiasm. He seems so eager to please you, licking and biting and kissing your pussy that you cum faster than you have in...well, ever, actually. You grip his hair for support, panting and chanting his name like a prayer.

"Was that alright?" Haechan feigns a self-conscious smile, though judging by your reaction, his smile is already turning into a proud smirk. That bastard.

"Are you kidding? It was...out of this world," you say honestly. Funny thing about honesty is how something that used to be so difficult for you comes so easily to you when you're with Haechan.

"Glad to hear," he grins widely. You want to kiss him every second till the rest of your life. The thought terrifies you.

"I s-should go," you try to get up. You can't do this. You can't be the one to take his virginity. Considering how this all started. It'd be too cruel. He should be with someone special, someone loves him more than anything, someone who'd never hurt him.

"W-what, w-why?" Haechan asks, grabbing your wrist in a panic, not wanting to let go. "I thought you liked me."

"I do like you. I like you so much. That's the problem."

"It doesn't have to be," Haechan disagrees, pushing you back on the bed. "Please, let me."

And here you thought you'd be the one begging him to have sex with you.

"O-okay," you can no longer find it in yourself to deny him. To deny your growing feelings...

Haechan digs through his jeans and pulls out a condom. His hands are shaking and he's having a hard time putting it on so you help him and pull him out of his misery. You give him a soft, reassuring smile, paired with a quick squeeze of his hand. He smiles back just as fondly.

And then he slides inside you so easily. As if he belongs there. As if he's meant to be yours. You kiss him desperately to distract yourself from the truth. To hide the tears that are threatening to come out.

"You f-feel so g-good," Haechan grunts in your ear.

"So do you, baby," you admit sincerely.

This time around, he lasts longer, fucking you until your release comes for the second time. He cums right after, with his hands touching your cheeks, his lips on your neck and his heart on his sleeve.

"Wanna stay inside you forever," he whispers once it's over.

"That wouldn't be very practical," you chuckle. Though you would like nothing more.

But he gets up to get rid of the condom and then comes back, hugging you tightly.

"Can you be my girlfriend?" Haechan blurts out. "I know you probably don't like clingy guys but...considering you've been pursuing me for the past three months, I thought..."

"I'll be your girlfriend," you agree rightaway, not giving a shit about the consequences. "Of course, I will."

He laughs, the sound so precious and filled with joy it breaks your heart.

Maybe he never has to know how it all began. Maybe you could hide it from him forever. Maybe...you could allow yourself to be happy. Just this once.

Soon, Haechan falls asleep, feeling comfortable around you. You know what you have to do, but you feel like shit anyway. You secretly take a picture of his half-naked figure sleeping soundly. You sigh quietly and send the photo to your stepbrother Jeno.

Then, you put your phone down, trying to forget about the whole ordeal. You cuddle up next to Haechan and enjoy his warmth until you fall asleep.

The next morning, you wake up before Haechan and quickly run out to make him some breakfast. You have no idea when his parents will be home but you don't want this to be their first impression of you. So, you leave the breakfast on Haechan's nightstand with a little note.

See you at school, boyfriend! XOXO, Y/N.

Rushing back home, you are satisfied when Jeno gives you the car keys to his Jaguar without protesting. Your stepbrother may be kinda freaky, but at least he's a man of his word. What gives you the creeps is the slight smirk on his face as he hands you the keys. As if he didn't lose the bet. As if he's the winner.

You try not to think about it too much, as you get dressed for school, excited to see Haechan again. You still can't believe he asked you to be his girlfriend. That pretty, sweet boy makes you so unbelievably happy. You look forward to spending more moments in his sunny company.

Haechan wakes up to the smell of warm pancakes, covered with chocolate and strawberries and accompanied by coffee. It immediately brings a smile on his face, which only becomes wider as he sees the little note you left him. He giddily enjoys the breakfast and then rushes to get dressed for school. You're his girlfriend! He's never had a girlfriend and he's so pleased you're being so nice to him. Maybe you really are better than people say and all that past drama was just everyone being jealous of your beauty and popularity...This is going to be the best day of his life.

But when he gets to school, everything changes. He knows that he's considered one of the "losers" in the hierarchy but usually people just ignore him and don't pay attention to him. He's fine with that, really! But today, whenever he walks by, people are snickering and whispering something. It feels so weird and makes him uncomfortable. He can't quite hear what they're saying and this kind of unexpected treatment is killing him.

He goes to his friend Mark to ask him what's up.

"Bro...I don't know how to tell you this," Mark looks away, as if the thing is so bad he can't even say it.

Haechan impatiently begs him to just enlighten him as to why everyone is giving him weird looks all day.

Mark sighs and shows him a secreenshot. There, he sees a photo of himself, half-naked and sleeping soundly. Fuck, that's from last night. And what the messages between you and your stepbrother Jeno reveal...shocks Haechan out of his senses. No...no way it was just a bet. No way you spent three months courting him for a fucking car?! This can't be true. It's gotta be Photoshopped or something.

"Listen, buddy, I warned you that she likes messing with guys and then leaving them."

"No, she...she really seemed to care about me," Haechan is still in denial as his vision becomes blurred with tears.

He runs away, unable to believe what is happening. He needs to speak to you. Hear it from your own lips. To be sure this is real and not just a sick joke.

When he finally finds you, he grabs your wrist as he did just yesterday. But this time, he's not doing to get you to stay. But because he's furious.

"Is it true? Did you really make a bet with Jeno on whether you can fuck me? Did you seriously do all of that over a car?!"

Your facial expressions are enough of an answer. Guilt. Something you never thought you were capable of.

"H-haechan, I swear I can explain," you beg him to hear you out.

"Explain? How can you explain that?" Haechan shakes his head, letting go of your hand. You try to touch him again but he shoves you off furiously.

"It was just a bet at the very beginning. But somewhere along the way, I really started having feelings for you, I promise," you cry passionately. "I don't care about the car, I'll fucking thrash it, I just wanted to get Jeno off my back."

Haechan takes a step back, feeling so betrayed. So...used.

"Whatever you say, I don't think I can believe you anymore. Was it fun, at least? Was this all just a wicked game to you?"

"N-no, it wasn't, I swear it," you are bawling at this point, feeling so pitiful. You don't care if the whole school sees. You only care that Haechan understands. You never meant things to go this far... "I truly care about you, Haechan."

"Yeah?" he scoffs, annoyed. "You only care about yourself."

And with that he leaves. And you lose the one person you truly, genuinely loved.

This is the worst day of your life.

Throughout the rest of the school year you don't dare approach him again. You know you fucked up so badly. You can't even look at that stupid car, let alone consider driving it, so you sell it. Partly because you're angry at Jeno for spreading the screenshot around the whole school. Partly because you no longer want to have anything that will remind you of the biggest mistake you ever made.

With the money you get for the car and some of your own savings, you secretly sponsor Haechan, Mark and their other friends' singing club. You don't even want Haechan to find out. It just...feels right. They could use the extra help.

As the final year of school nears its end, you begin to imagine a future where you never get to see Haechan again. At least, during the past couple of months you had the privilege of looking at him from a distance. But the idea of a world with no Haechan is like a world with no sun.

So, you decide you have to do something as soon as possible. He doesn't have to forgive you or accept you as a girlfriend again. You just want to be in his life in some form.

As you approach the school's radio booth, you feel all the bad things of your past coming back to bite you in the ass. Maybe you deserve to be forever alone. But you need to give it a try. It's your last chance.

"Hi, Mark," you greet your ex-boyfriend.

"What do you want, Y/N?" he sighs, not at all happy to see you.

"Before I get to that, let me just say how sorry I am for the way I treated you in the past. I'm really happy you're finally with someone who appreciates you for how totally awesome you are."

"That's...unexpectedly nice of you to say," Mark eyes you suspiciously. "We were never right for each other anyway. So, what do you want?"

"I want to apologize to Haechan. Through a message broadcasted to the whole school..."

"Gee, and you couldn't do it the old-fashioned way, face to face?" Mark jokes.

"Haechan doesn't wanna see me," you say, fully convinced.

"How would you know without trying?" Mark asks. Has...Haechan told him something? No, you couldn't allow yourself to hope.

"I just know, okay? Please, let me do this. We're graduating in one week, this might be my last chance to talk to Haechan."

Mark nods, agreeing.

"Five minutes," he takes off his headphones and vacates the seat in the radio booth for you.

"Thank you! I mean it," you have never been more grateful for anything.

Mark shrugs as if it's not a big deal and leaves you to it.

"I want to dedicate this so someone I hurt," you speak into the microphone. "Someone who didn't deserve it. Someone very dear to me. Someone I still care deeply about. Haechan, I'm so incredibly sorry, please, give me another chance."

And you start singing.

The world was on fire and no one could save me but you It's strange what desire will make foolish people do I never dreamed that I'd meet somebody like you And I never dreamed that I'd lose somebody like you

Your voice is off-key a couple of times and halfway through the song you start crying inconsolably, all the guilt and pain consuming you. The whole school is probably laughing at you but you can no longer bring yourself to care. The only thing that matters is that Haechan hears this.

When you finish the song, you leave the radio booth and are surprised to find Haechan right outside the door, willing to talk to you.

"H-haechan," you stammer and barely resist the urge to give him a hug. You don't want him to feel pressured or anything.

"I'll give you a second chance on one condition. I want Jeno's Jaguar," Haechan jokes.

"Too bad, I already sold it and donated the money to your music club so you guys can get new instruments and stuff."

"YOU DID WHAT?!" Haechan exclaims. He doesn't sound angry, though, just...shocked.

"Sorry, sorry, I know it wasn't my place. But it was so unfair the football team and the cheerleading team get so much money but no one cares about the arts."

"Okay, okay, I guess this is better than that ugly car," Haechan chuckles. The car is not ugly. Not even a little bit. But you appreciate Haechan all the more for saying that.

"Can you really forgive me?" you ask desperately, eyes still watery.

"I can forgive you but I'll probably never forget," Haechan admits with a sigh. "If you break my trust again..."

"I won't, I swear!" you vow seriously. "I'll spend the rest of my life making it up to you and treating you the way you deserve. You're the best person I've ever met, Haechan. If you'll have me, I want to be around you forever."

"Forever is a long time" Haechan muses out loud. "Considering we're going to college...I don't even know where you're applying."

"I'll go wherever you go," you say hurriedly.

"You can't give up on your dreams just for me, though."

"I'm not. You're my dream, Haechan. You're my sun and I want to be in your orbit. If you'll allow me, that is," you can't take it any longer and hold his hand softly, asking, begging for that second chance not to slip away.

"I'll allow it," Haechan smiles sweetly. "Let's run towards our dreams together, from now on."

"I won't let you down," you promise from the depths of your heart.

And you finally, truly mean it.

The End

#nct #haechan #nct smut #haechan smut #nct dream smut #lee donghyuck smut #nct 127 smut #haechan x reader #nct hard thoughts #nct hard hours #haechan hard thoughts #haechan hard hours #nct imagines #haechan imagines #writing #nct angst #haechan angst

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ivysprophecy · 2 months ago

Text

slim pickins

warnings; bad date? mentions of sex, cursing underage drinking and yes i meant for it to be written poorly i was trying to keep the humor of the album in the writing

masterlist | p. 2

no pressure tags; @murdockcastleslut @kimoralov3 @arkofblake

word count; 1911

summary; youre tired of not finding a decent guy who will treat you right and lay you right. at least not one you've known since you were kids. however you just cant help yourself. besides its slim pickins out here you take what you can get.

divider by @bernardsbendystraws

i wanna make one thing clear, when i say there are no good guys left i do not wanna hear about you and your boyfriend of three years that can cook and loves your mom.

thats exactly what im talking about maddie!!! i dont give two fucks that he took you to barnes and noble and bought you every book you wanted.

they are all taken. its plain and simple.

which is why even with a full roster, im stuck taking fucking zander, yes with a z, to my friends' kegger.

i mean yea hes cute. hes tall, built but not that gross kind of muscly. but if were being real i shouldve known better when he was joking about being a male stripper when hes a ginger.

and i can tell kie is judging me, rightfully so. her side eye is lethal. when i introduced him to everyone she asked him about his greta van fleet tee and he said he didn't even know it was a band.

needless to say pope had to drag her away.

after that incident i decided it was best if we tried to talk away from the rest of the group. boy was i wrong.

"so what do you like to drink? ill go grab us something," i offer trying to start the conversation, also avoiding the usual problem with taking a drink from men.

"im good with whatever"

i like to think im not a violent person, but im about to be.

"does a beer sound okay?" i ask him grabbing a twisted tea for me from the cooler.

"sure thing." god why is he acting like such a bitch? i should ask him if he's on his period.

i hand him the can, our fingers brush and its my final clue for the night that i am definitely not going home with him. no spark at all. hes done just about everything else to piss me off.

he did the thing where he licks his lips exaggeratingly looking me up and down, making a point to make sure i saw.

he walks so slow for being 6'3.

and finally he tried to mansplain my career to me. i'd had just enough when he opens his mouth again

"ew, you like twisted tea? who likes sweet tea?" his face contorted in disgust, it was about to contort from my fist breaking his goddamn nose if he keeps talking to me like this.

"we literally live in the south dude." my face could not make it any clearer i am so done with this guy.

"still, sweet tea is disgusting. im not kissing anyone that drinks that nasty shit."

"who said i wanted to kiss your nasty fucking mou-" i was interrupted by the sound of a very familiar giggle behind me as his arm wrapped around my shoulder, the smell of his deodorant and sea salt that cover his skin start to put you at ease.

jj was always there when you needed him, sometimes even when you didnt but right now you couldn't be more grateful. "im glad you found those mama i got em just for you. remembered theyre your favorite. right?"

and you wanna know the best part? zander is shaking already pissed off that jj is at my side. territorial i guess.

"you mind?" he asks him nodding his head at me like im not even there.

jj cant help but laugh at him "yea bud i do mind. she's hanging out with me tonight. have fun with your ipa dick." and with that he steers us off to where the rest of the pogues are.

but not before i can look over my shoulder and give the ginger an innocent smile and a shrug as if i had no control over the situation, when really id pick jj over anyone else.

"you owe me a big fat kiss mama," jj whispers in my ear walking us over to where our friends are standing, drinks in their hands laughing and chatting up a storm.

"in your dreams honey."

"every night all night," he quips back before i shove him off me.

now before you give me shit, jj and i have had our fair share of fun, but unfortunately im starting to look for something more serious.

watching john b and sarah be disgusting together is getting to my head. popes got something going on with cleo and im starting to recognize the pattern. and before i know it everyone will be in love if i don't start making an effort in that department.

random casual hook ups aren't doing it anymore, especially considering they aren't even that good.

unless theyre with jj.

but hes not an option, theres too much drama. too much history. too much too much too much. im not what he needs and i know for a fact he doesn't want me in that sense.

is that a bit dramatic? probably.

i mean hes a great lay, he's hilarious, he's got that blue collar kind of muscle, and he genuinely cares about me.

so of course im not going to date him, why would i?

what do you mean make good decisions? id rather do things in the most difficult way possible!

"y/n youve gotta stop giving those guys a chance, im starting to feel bad for you."

"you try finding a decent guy in a ten mile radius." i glare at him, obviously not wanting to joke about this right now.

he sticks his hand out in front of me, "fine i will. let me see your phone."

curious to see what he will do i hand it too him unlocked, he swipes and taps for a few moments, smiling down at the phone before handing it back to you.

when you look back down at the screen all you see is your instagram open with his stupid fucking smiley face on the screen.

he took a picture of himself and posted to my story. written on the screen in bubble letters in my favorite colored heart 'my favorite guy <3'

"i think he's your best bet." that same smile facing back at me now, cockier than ever. so smug i wanna kiss it off his face

i cant help but roll my eyes. "jj im serious! at this rate im going to die alone. every decent guy is taken or unavailable. all i want is someone funny, kind, and attractive is that too much to ask for?"

"im right in front of you mama you dont gotta look far."

"jj we both know we're not the serious kind of relationship im talking about."

"you can think what you want too but ill be here waiting for that kiss you owe me."

"i think all that tequila youve been sipping has gone to your head maybank."

he stands in front of me, taking his signature red cap off his head and putting it on mine smiling down at me, "what do they say in those books you read? you wear the hat you ride the cowboy?"

"this no ten gallon hat and you are no cowboy."

we laugh at each other, its always been easier to do that then actually talk about our feelings. so i put his hat back on his head, backwards the way he i likes it.

"cmon y/n/n, have a few more drinks, relax and hang out and ill make you feel all better later yea? its what im best at, you know."

"its gonna take more than a few more teas to convince me jj"

"what about that thing you like that i do with my tongue, huh mama? doesnt that sound pretty good right now? i think it does."

"i give you one fucking compliment and it goes straight to your head."

"technically its about my head so that makes perfect sense," he hands me another can with that stupid signature smirk of his and his stupid sexy hat backwards. i hate to admit it's working on me.

just like it does every other time.

i squint my eyes at him taking the can, rolling the idea around in my head. "fuck it. its not like anyone else is offering," i take a big sip of my drink.

jj pumps his fist in the air like a victorious idiot giving a few woots and hollars before picking me up and throwing me over his shoulder despite my wishes.

"jb!!" he shouts turning around to face him, "we're headed out!"

john b looks at the two of us shaking his head at how im kicking my feet to wiggle out of jjs oddly strong grip. "make sure you change the sheets when youre done!"

oh my god he did not just say that. "fuck both of you!"

jj just laughs carrying you back to the chateau like a kid who's excited to use a brand new birthday present.

"what happened to letting me have a few more drinks before we left??"

"youre just too irresistable mama, gotta have you now,' he gives my ass a light slap for good measure causing me to roll my eyes for the 600th time tonight.

"are you gonna put me down now?"

he pretends to look like hes thinking about it, "i guess. only so i can watch you walk away," he does as he says helping me get my feet on the ground.

"youre a pervert."

"no im flirtatious, and you love it, you know it makes you blush i see it. now go on and give me a lil walk yea?"

oh im gonna kill him...

oh wait! im gonna kill him!

"okay... fine. but no touching until we get home," i smile walking away exactly like he asked, but i know behind me he is a puddle of mud. standing still, about to start begging me to let him.

he finally catches up after a few seconds "mama please- cmon thats not fair. you look too good in those shorts you know i cant wait that long. just wanna feel you."

i cant help but giggle at his words, its honestly adorable how mopey he gets. like i just kicked his puppy or something.

"hands of jj i mean it... not until that door shuts behind us."

it didn't really matter that i can see the chateau or that ill be there in literally a minute.

its actually painful for jj to not be able to touch me as he pleases.

i turn around to face him with a cheeky smile. "you want me maybank?"

and of course he nods so hard it looks like his head is going to fall right off.

"come and get me," running towards the house, i can see the moment when his reflexes kick in, his boots thudding against the ground as he gains on me.

just before i can make it to the poarch jj wraps his arms around me, lifting me a few inches off the ground and spinning me around in a fit of laughter.

"okay! okay okay okay you win- you got me."

"oh ive got you mama, and im havin you for the rest of the fucking night," he presses a kiss to my neck hauling me inside, the screen door slamming shut after us.

am i gonna regret this tomorrow? most likely.

but what can i say? its slim pickins in this part of town.

#jj maybank #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank x gn!reader #outer banks x reader #jj maybank imagine #jj maybank fics #outerbanks x reader #outerbanks fics #my writing <3 #short n sweet #short and sweet #fic recs <3 #mama needs her jj #jj maybank need you by my side

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thriftedtchotchkes · 2 years ago

Text

come clean

pairing: joel miller x f!reader

summary: joel comes home after a messy day on patrol, but you're already in the shower

warnings: 18+ MDNI, fluff, language, getting together, slow buildup, jackson era, smut, handjob, f!masturbation, fingering, unprotected piv, rough sex, shower sex, size kink

word count: 4.7k

a/n: this one goes out to emotional support daydreams! as always, thoughts and feedback are always appreciated. hope y'all enjoy 💕

Joel’s having a rough day. It’s late, and he’s bone-tired and covered in…well, he’s not really sure what he’s covered in. Mud and bits of dead grass, definitely, but there's splotches of red on his jeans, too. He couldn’t tell you whether it’s his blood or something else’s—the adrenaline still hasn’t completely worn off, so it’s entirely possible he’s not feeling the full extent of his injuries yet.

His day hadn’t started that badly, but it wasn’t a typical morning, either. Maria had stopped him and Tommy at the gate to ask if they'd mind checking out a situation at the dam instead of patrolling their usual route.

Apparently, some of the machinery was acting up and the only person she trusted to oversee the repairs was Tommy. She honestly hadn't given much thought to Joel's part in all of it—their relationship is still pretty tense, even after his return to Jackson, so he was just along for the ride.

Things went downhill fast after they arrived at their destination. No one's really sure how the infected got into the facility, but it was a lucky thing Joel was there after all. With the help of a few guards, they were able to dispatch everything in and around the building without any bites or serious injuries but, boy, did they make a serious mess. Of the facility and the machinery they were supposed to help fix, and of Joel.

So now here he is, exhausted and dirty, getting shit from his kid when all he wants to do is get clean and take a fucking nap.

“Ew, gross,” Ellie groans, clearly not giving two shits about how badly Joel’s day is going or how little she’s helping right now. She had the day off and is somehow still watching movies in the same spot he left her in this morning. “Stop touching things! You’re getting shit everywhere.”

He ignores her and shrugs off his coat, walking into the living room to toss it over the back of his recliner, but she throws him a dirty look that stops him in his tracks.

"Whatever, m'gettin’ in the shower," he grunts, dropping it on the doormat instead. He'll probably have to burn that coat anyway if the stains and…odor are anything to go by.

"Uhhhh, no, actually you're not," she says matter-of-factly, and he raises his eyebrows, eyeing her expectantly when she doesn't elaborate.

"Why the fuck not?"

"Did your hearing get worse or something? Shower's already on,” she nods toward the stairs. He’s not sure how he didn’t notice the sound of running water filtering down from the second floor earlier, but now he’s annoyed that he can’t shower and that she might actually be right about his hearing.

"Well then, I'm waitin' here," he sasses back, taking a seat on the recliner with zero regard to the upholstery.

"Dude!" She’s starting to look as exasperated as he feels. And her reaction isn’t unwarranted. If he touches literally anything in this living room, they’ll probably have to burn it, too.

"Fine, fine, m'not touchin' anythin'," he stands back up, holding his hands up in surrender. "How long's she been in there?"

"Like, five minutes. Probably gonna be a while, knowing her,” she replies with an amused grin. Oh, so she thinks this is funny.

"The fuck do ya expect me to do then, stand here ‘til she's out?" He asks as if it’s not exactly what he’s been doing the entire time they’ve been having this conversation.

"As long as you don't sit on any of the furniture, I don't really give a shit what you do," she shrugs.

He rolls his eyes at her, running a hand down his face in frustration. He’s just about to give up and hose himself down in the yard when she finally offers a solution.

"You could just knock and see if she'll swap out with you. She basically just got in, anyway."

“Y’know what, I think I will,” he grumbles, heading upstairs to the bathroom and leaving Ellie to her shitty 90s sci-fi thriller. She shakes her head, laughing as she slips on her headphones.

“Don’t be too loud up there!”

But with his bad ears, he doesn’t hear her.

God, you needed this shower so badly. It's been a rough day, to say the least, and it’s finally time to get the relaxation you deserve. You got saddled with an extra patrol shift because two of the usual guys had a last-minute change of assignment, and it turned a typical day into an unbelievably exhausting one.

But tonight you got lucky. There was no one around to use up all of the hot water besides Ellie, who’s been glued to the TV all day, and you miraculously got home before Joel. So tonight, you get to enjoy the expensive bottle of shampoo you found at some fancy store in some fancy mall last month, and let yourself forget for a while that there’s fucking fungus monsters out there eating people.

That is—until someone knocks on the door and ends your perfect evening before it begins. Now you’ve got soap in your eyes, and you’re slightly worried because Ellie either needs something from the bathroom or the house is on fire. There’s never an in-between with her.

“Ellie? Everything okay?” you call out, really hoping it’s not the latter.

The voice that responds is muffled and decidedly much deeper than Ellie’s, and you’re momentarily taken off guard before you realize it’s not a burglar. It’s Joel—of course, it’s Joel. He probably got off his shift late and wants to clean up, and now you feel bad for making him wait and using up all the hot water.

You can’t really hear what he’s saying over the shower, so you slide the curtain open to poke your head out. “What? Sorry, I didn’t catch that.”

He tries to answer you again, or at least you think he does, but you still can’t make him out, so you tell him to come inside. The door only opens a crack, but it's so quick that there's no time to duck behind the curtain before Joel's face appears and you're both staring at each other blankly.

“…Hi,” you breathe out, praying it’s just your head and not the rest of your body peeking out. “So, um, what were you saying?”

He looks a little embarrassed and it’s adorable, but the thought only crosses your mind for a split second before you notice the rest of him. He’s—there’s really no nice way to say this, but he looks revolting.

There’s dirt everywhere. Matted in his hair, under his fingernails, all over his clothes. It looks like he’s been rolling around on the ground all day, and honestly, maybe he has. He’s also got…gross, is that a chunk of…? Nope. It looks like someone exploded in his face, and he needs a shower. Badly.

The only problem is you’re covered head-to-toe in soap, and you’re pretty sure you’ve only got about 15 minutes of hot water left.

He scratches the back of his neck awkwardly. “Sorry to barge in on ya,” he mumbles, looking pointedly away from you. “I came up here to see if you wouldn’t mind pausin’ your shower for a bit, but I, uh…can see that’s gonna be a little difficult.”

You look down at yourself and, yeah, he’s right. You’re dripping water and soap all over the floor. Getting out now would be a pain in the ass, but he also really needs to get in.

“No, no. It’s totally fine! It makes way more sense for me to sit around soapy than for you to, um, stand around like that,” you reason. It’s his turn to look down at himself, and he grimaces. “Just turn around for a sec and we can swap.”

He nods, still looking sheepish, but grateful.

You duck back into the shower to shut the water off and gather up your toiletries to make room for his. You’ve already shoved half of your stuff to one side before you realize it was probably just a waste of time because there was already plenty of space—and that's when it dawns on you.

This stall is pretty big—as far as showers go, anyway. There's no reason you can't both fit in here at the same time. It's also not like he's never seen you naked before. You joined up with Joel and Ellie long before running water was in the picture, so you've had your fair share of awkward bathing encounters. Really, it's just a matter of whether or not he'll go for it.

You pop your head back out, taking a second to admire those strong, broad shoulders of his before getting his attention. Damn, he's a real catch. Hot and respectful. But seriously, he's so disgusting right now and it would be a shame to allow that to continue.

"Hey, Joel," you start, and he glances back carefully over his shoulder. You hesitate for a beat before continuing, “So, hear me out—what if we just…if we both showered…at the same time…”

He looks confused, and you realize how badly you botched that entire sentence. Okay, so talking around it didn't work. You take a deep breath to steady yourself before trying again.

"Just—just get in with me," you say softly. "We can shower together."

His brow furrows, eyes unreadable. He looks like he might be thinking it over, but his silence isn't exactly the most encouraging reaction in the world. Subconsciously, you hold your breath while you wait for an answer.

There’s no way he’s going to go for this, is there? It’s Joel. He can barely look at you in a tank top without blushing, let alone wet and naked. You’re not even sure why you bothered asking. It was clearly a dumb—

“Yeah, guess that makes sense,” he nods, turning back to you fully, and you swear he’s looking at you differently. That's…not what you were expecting. Not that you're complaining in the slightest. He's not even trying to hide his eagerness, and you're starting to think maybe he was waiting for you to ask all along.

"Well, come on in, cowboy."

Joel undresses slowly, eyeing what little of you he can see greedily, and it makes your cheeks burn. It’s like he can’t look away—from your eyes and lips, your collarbone. Even the tiny droplets of water that fall from your hair. It feels more intimate than any moment you’ve ever shared with Joel, and he hasn’t even touched you. Yet, hopefully.

You’re getting impatient. He's making a show of stripping down and it's taking everything you have not to get out of the shower and rip all of his clothes off yourself. His fingers are so thick, and more and more of his tanned, weather-worn skin is exposed to you as they work to unbutton his shirt.

You’re pretty sure you’re drooling at this point, imagining those fingers sinking deep inside you before you can stop yourself. Fuck, you're pent up. And should probably have a lot more shame, but now he's unzipping his jeans, and you feel like you're about to combust.

You let out a pained noise without meaning to and he chuckles, shaking his head as he picks up the pace. "I'm comin', I'm comin'," he teases, dropping his pants to the floor. "Why don't you get the water goin' for me?"

Now you're the one having trouble looking away. Damn, who even is this guy? He’s nothing like the Joel you’ve known for years, and definitely not the Joel who stepped into this bathroom ten minutes ago. If you'd known it would go like this, you would’ve invited him to shower with you a long time ago.

He’s down to just his boxers now, and maybe it's wishful thinking, but he looks like he’s already hard. Swallowing is suddenly extremely difficult, so you shoot him one last appreciative look before doing what he asked.

You turn the water back on and it’s still pleasurably warm as it rains down onto your tense shoulders. The steady pressure soothes some of the nerves while you wait for him to join you, but you’re so caught up in the moment that you don't notice the curtain opening.

"Scoot over," he murmurs behind you, his breath fanning out over the back of your neck. He’s close, so much closer than you expected him to be. You assumed you’d be dancing around each other for at least a little while longer, but it seems like Joel knows exactly what he wants, and it’s not just the shower.

He reaches around you to grab that expensive bottle of shampoo you’ve been looking forward to, his fingers grazing your bare skin, and you shiver despite the heat of the water.

“Or you could stay right here,” he says, even closer now, lips brushing the shell of your ear. “We could help each other out—with washin’ up, I mean.”

You inhale shakily, your reply getting caught in your throat. “Y-yes—yeah, yes…we should definitely do that,” you breathe out.

He chuckles and the sound is surprisingly affectionate. It gives you hope that this won’t just be a one-time thing. That after all this time, he wants you as much as you want him.

You’re the first to initiate physical contact, reaching back to bury your fingers in his hair which, in retrospect, turns out to be a terrible idea. He’s still filthy, and your fingers get caught in tangles and dirt and…probably a lot of other nasty shit you don’t want to think about.

You snort out a laugh, turning around to face him. “I think you’re up first, handsome.”

The corners of his mouth tip up as he nods, and you can’t resist the urge to reach up and trace his bottom lip with your thumb. He kisses the pad of your finger, and you wish so badly that it was your lips.

For the second time tonight, you’re feeling incredibly impatient. You want to feel more of him, let him press you up against the wall and kiss you, touch you the way you both want him to, but it’ll have to wait.

You pluck the bottle from his hands and squeeze a huge dollop into your palm, telling him to turn around with a small smile. His eyes drop to the quirk of your lips for a moment too long before he obliges, and you’re starting to realize he’s getting impatient, too.

You reach up to thread your fingers into his graying hair and, somehow, the strands still feel soft despite everything tangled up in them. It’s going to take a decent amount of scrubbing before it’s back to its normal, fluffy state of disarray, but you’ll make it feel good for him. A little taste of what's to come.

He tips his head back as you massage in the shampoo, letting out the softest groan when your fingernails scratch along his scalp, and you have to press your thighs together to relieve the growing ache in your core. You’re not going to make it through this shower if he keeps making noises like that. But, of course, he does, and they're getting louder.

You can feel his body starting to respond to yours, too. It’s a little cruel how you’re purposely working him up, sliding a washcloth over his shoulders and across his back, letting your fingers skim teasingly over his skin as you stretch your arms around him to reach his front.

His stomach flexes under your palm, and he inhales sharply as your hardened nipples graze across his back. You continue your path down, running your fingers through the coarse hair at the base of his cock, and his hips jerk forward, seeking the friction you so desperately want to provide. He's panting, and you're both having a difficult time holding yourselves back.

Brown and red swirl in the water around your feet and down the drain, and it's enough to tell you that he's finally clean. And that you can finally touch him the way you want to.

Pressing yourself firmly against his back, you reach down to wrap your fingers around his cock and he feels huge in your hand, rock hard and pulsing with his racing heartbeat. You pump him a few times, giving him a firm squeeze at the base, and he keens, already leaking all over himself.

He braces a hand on your hip to steady himself as you trail open-mouthed kisses down his spine, digging his fingers in roughly when you slowly start to jerk him off in earnest.

"T-that's it, pretty girl—,” he pants heavily, eyes dropping down to watch you work him, and you twist your wrist up on the next stroke, thumbing over his head. "Keep goin', just like that."

You whimper damply against his skin at the pet name, feeling a pleasurable whoosh in your belly as your cunt drips pathetically down your thighs. The throbbing between your legs is almost unbearable, but you don't want to let him go, not when his hips are meeting your fist so fucking desperately. You wedge a hand between your bodies, slipping it lower and lower until your fingers rub against your slick folds, gathering some of the wetness to rub soothing circles into your clit.

“I got you, I got you,” you moan at the sudden relief. Your caresses start to match his thrusts, and soon he's trembling in your arms, whimpering like he'll cum any second if you let him. You rub your cheek tenderly against his back, murmuring soft, encouraging words into his heated skin.

"You're doing so, so well," you tell him, and he seizes up at the praise, chest heaving as you focus your attention closer to the tip. "You wanna cum or are you gonna wait for me? Want you to fill me up…can you do that for me?"

For a second, you think your words might've thrown him over the edge, his hips stuttering against your palm even as you slow your movements. But he's still clearly fighting the urge to cum, and that has to mean he wants to fuck you badly.

His hand shakes as it lifts to wrap around yours, guiding you down to squeeze the base of his cock to stave off his orgasm, but you're not making it easy for him. You barely notice your other hand still working your pussy, too turned on to realize you've started pumping two fingers in and out of yourself.

Joel notices, though. Something that sounds almost animalistic tears its way out of his chest as he turns on you, snatching your hand out of your cunt and slamming it against the shower wall. Your fingers are shiny and glistening with your wetness and he leans forward to suck each of them into his mouth, groaning at your taste on his tongue.

The look on his face makes it seem like you're the best meal he's ever had, and you feel a strong, sudden urge to have his tongue in your mouth so you can taste yourself. He pulls off your middle finger with an audible pop, and then you're crashing your lips into his, immediately licking into him.

God, why do you taste so good in his mouth? It's salty and heady, and really shouldn't be as hot as it is, but you can't bring yourself to care as his tongue tangles with yours. You feel two—shit, no, it’s three—of his fingers slip into you, and, holy fuck, they're so much bigger than yours. You're already so full and they feel even thicker at the base, nudging a spot that makes you see stars.

There's no way his cock is going to fit inside you…right? But the thought of him trying anyway almost makes you cum on the spot. Another wave of heat crashes through you and your walls convulse around him, pussy gushing down his fingers, and he abruptly breaks away from your lips, groaning lowly, desperately.

"Fuck, I-I need—shit, I need to fuck you, pretty girl," he twitches against you, leaking a glob of precum as he ruts into your belly. “M'gonna fill ya up real good, just like you wanted—," and you gasp, clamping down on his fingers one more time before he's pulling them out and hauling you into his arms, your legs quickly wrapping around his waist as he shoves you higher up the wall.

His hands roam your skin hungrily before eventually settling under the soft swell of your ass, holding you up as he slicks up his cock between your folds. Every time the tip catches your clit, your hips buck clean off the wall and he presses into you harder to keep you in place. You bury your face in his neck, thighs squeezing into his sides.

"S'not gonna fit," you slur, a little drunk off how good he feels between your legs. The next time his hips buck forward, the blunt head of his cock catches your entrance. "J-Joel—ngh…Joel, s'too big, you have to make it fit, please."

And that's when his patience runs out.

He sheathes himself to the hilt in one harsh thrust, growling roughly into your hair, and the stretch is mind-numbing. He stays deep, letting you adjust to the feeling of being split open, and his head drops to your shoulder. His eyes are locked on where you're joined, your pussy stretched around him almost obscenely.

"Would'ja look at that," he mumbles to himself, rocking in and out slowly as he turns his head to suck a bruise into your collarbone. You reach a hand down curiously, wanting to feel yourself around him, and your jaw drops when your fingers brush where his thickness is forcing your cunt to yield to him. "Knew you could take me…pussy feels s-so fuckin' good, like you were made for me."

You whine pathetically as the ache starts to subside and the need for him to fuck you becomes overwhelming. Pleasure blooms where he's already grazing that heavenly spot again, and you tug his head back by his hair, bringing his attention back up to you.

Everything pauses, just for a moment. You kiss his lips delicately, so much more delicate than he's about to be with your body but, right now, you need him to know that it's more than this for you. More than the sex and the physical intimacy. And the way he kisses you back reassures you beyond a doubt that it's more than this for him, too.

Then, your patience runs out.

"Joel, move."

And suddenly, he's spearing up into that spot deep inside you with reckless abandon, bouncing you on his cock, and you're not entirely sure, but you might actually be screaming.

Your head lolls back, thudding dully against the wall, and he ducks down to wrap his lips around your nipple, tongue circling the nub as he continues you work you up and down his shaft. The sound your pussy's making around him should be humiliating, but it only spurs him on, the wet squelching echoing loudly over the running water.

"Hear that? That's all you, baby. So fuckin' wet, look at that," and he's watching himself again in awe as he fucks in and out of you. You follow his gaze and, holy shit, he's not kidding. You're absolutely soaking him. "You look so good like this, so goddamn pretty stretched around my cock."

You still haven't completely acclimated to how thick he is, not sure you ever actually will, and the syrupy-sweet pain of him has you clawing at his back. You use the wall as leverage, arching just enough so you can actively meet his thrusts, and the new angle sends you reeling.

"Feels so…full, so full," you gasp, your back inching higher up the wall with the force of his thrusts. "K-keep going…there, Joel, there."

It's not just that one spot he's hitting anymore—fuck, it feels like he's everywhere. The ridge of his cock is rubbing your walls just right and every other thrust fucks deep enough to graze your cervix. You sob at the onslaught of overpowering pleasure, burying your hands in his hair to tether yourself as your brain begins to fizzle.

Just a little more, you only need a little bit more. You can feel the lower half of your body locking down and, as if he can sense exactly what you need, he grinds his cock in as deep as it'll go.

"That's it, baby. C'mon, give it to me," he grits against your throat. "Squeezin' me so fuckin' tight, you're almost there."

The coarse hairs at the base of his cock scrape roughly and a little painfully against your swollen clit as you rock against him, but the slide is still so slick and raw that your thighs begin to quake around his waist, and it's—fuck, it's so…so…

"M'gonna fucking cum—gonna…oh fuck, fuck, Joel," your lips part around what you pray is a silent scream and your body goes rigid, cunt spasming violently around him.

He chokes out a moan as you clamp down impossibly tighter on his cock. "Fuckin' hell, there we go," he rasps out shakily as he fucks you into the wall blindingly hard, letting you ride him through your orgasm.

"So, s-so good. Feels so fuckin' good," he's starting to mumble to himself deliriously, squeezing your ass hard enough to bruise. You whimper helplessly as his thrusts get sloppier and more desperate, "Gonna fill you up 'til it's leakin' out…c-can I, pretty girl? Please…bet you'd look so fuckin' good with my cum spillin' out of you—"

Before you can even answer, you feel him throb and then his entire body stills, his cock visibly pulsing as he empties into you. He moans his way through it, his head dropping to your shoulder again to watch himself pump you full of cum just like he said he would.

If you thought you felt full before, it's nothing compared to how you feel right now. He's still so deep, twitching pathetically inside you as he lifts his head to nose at the underside of your jaw. He presses a soft kiss there and you sigh, wrapping your arms and legs around him tighter.

"Christ, Joel, where did that come from?" you rasp out. He chuckles, and his whole body shakes with it, jostling his hips into your sensitive clit. Your pussy flutters around him and his breath hitches, fingers digging into the softness of your thighs. He still hasn't pulled out and you have a feeling he doesn't want to.

"Been waitin' a long time for that," he murmurs, meeting your eyes. You smile softly, and your lips command his attention. "Waited a long time for you."

So full of surprises tonight. You’ve traveled with him for years, settled down with your kid, but you never expected this. For him to finally feel the same way you do, to fuck you like that. You’re suddenly extremely thankful he came home in dire need of a shower.

You run your hands up his chest, settling one on his shoulder and burying the other in his hair. The dirt, the grime—it's all gone now, replaced by your release and the sweat of your exertion. He smells so good, just like your fancy shampoo. Just like home.

You lean in to kiss him deeply and he melts into you, his lips soft and warm against yours. When you part, you're met with that look again. The one he gave you after you asked him to shower with you, and that he hasn't stopped giving you since. Like he's observing you, contemplating you.

You recognize it now—it's hope.

"I've been waiting a long time for you too, Joel."

He kisses you again, holding you close as the water goes ice cold.

thanks so much for reading! 🥰

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #tlou fanfiction #the last of us fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #joel miller

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princessbrunette · 6 months ago

Text

if i may revisit the roadtrip au with jj x reader x john b…

you feel totally content.

with a belly full of icecream, your skin warm with the glitter hibiscus temporary tattoo flaking off your arm from natures gentle exfoliation made of sand, and the sparkling blue abyss that was the ocean— you wondered why the three of you didn’t just live like this.

overheated and lethargic, you drag your boyfriends to the cool water, immersing yourself to the shoulders with a wince before squealing as john b grabs you closer with a splash, easing you to wrap your legs around his waist.

you relax against his hot body in the water, gloopy eyelashes fluttering shut as you rest your cheek to his shoulder, listening to the sound of the tide crashing against the shore and jj splashing about not too far from you, catching up to the two of you.

“you happy?” john b hums, and you can hear the smile in his voice.

“love you.” it comes muffled against his toned, tanned skin— and you feel his chest vibrate with a chuckle.

“so, i take that as a yes.”

two cold hands slide around your waist and you squirm against john b— now in hindsight perhaps grinding up against him a little too much, because the feeling of being touched from both sides had somehow trained your body in a pavlovian manner to feel arousal each time.

“y’know once upon a time i would’a saw this kinda PDA at the beach and been like… ew, gross.” jj mutters with a smirk, hands massaging your ass cheeks beneath the water.

“theres like, no one here dude.” john b shrugs, raising his eyebrows when he feels you trying to grind back against jj. “oh, uh — easy tiger. might not be many people around but we’re still in public. remember that talk we had?” his deep rumbly voice reprimanding you does nothing to soothe the growing need for the two of them.

“no one can see.” you mewl in complain, the water splashing a little as you try and hump him beneath the water.

“i’on know, pooch. s’a little undignified, even for you.” jj cares less, but wants to tease you about it nonetheless as his frayed blonde hair tickles your neck, his lips brushing your ear. “got ourselves a lil sandwich action right now.”

“please…” you huff, and you feel john b crane his head around to check the perimeter.

“look— i saw a guy over there like five minutes ago. who’s to say he’s not gonna return and report us to like… the ocean… police, or something.” the brunette stresses, but with the crease between his eyebrows he only looks more and more handsome — with big brown eyes that catch in the sunlight and practically glow orange, and wet curls falling perfectly around his face.

“why you actin’ like you’re scared of the cops all of a sudden? besides didn’t you just say there’s like no one here?” jj scoffs out a laugh, hands that were groping your ass now moved more central— a middle finger rubbing somewhat soothing circles around your asshole through your bikini bottoms. you groan against john b’s shoulder, on the verge of tears.

“please johm’bee, can just pull ‘em to the side. no one has to know!” you whimper, bucking against him and he audibly sighs. how can he resist when you’re talking like that? as if reading his mind, jj speaks up with a know-it-all tick of his head.

“cant say no t’that, right?”

next, you feel a set of thick fingers yanking your bikini bottoms to the side.

“and when we’re done here, we’re gonna talk about self discipline.” john b lectures, sliding his fingers through your folds experimentally — but you can tell he doesn’t really mind.

#jj x reader x john b #puppy!reader

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rafeysbafey · 1 year ago

Note

was ethan really at econ that one time, or was he dicking down y/n - a request insinuating at an au where ethan isn't ghostface, but still is accused of being one.

“im telling you, the whole ‘being at econ’ shit is an excuse,” mindy said as her, chad and sam walked into the apartment.

“so that automatically makes him ghostface?” chad asks, eyebrows furrowed as he followed mindy down the hallway.

“i mean think about it, why would-”

all of a sudden mindy went quiet, a creaking noise cutting her off as her and chad gave each other a look.

“fuck! ethan, right there!”

“you like that? yea you do, you little slut.”

both their eyes went wide before mindy pretended to throw up, sam running over to see what the commotion was about.

“gross! fuck, ew!” mindy whined, sam’s jaw dropping as chad couldn’t help but smirk.

“hell yeah, my boys finally getting some.”

an hour went by, the three friends deciding to put on a movie while they waited for ethan and y/n to finish up their…activities.

the door to ethan’s room finally creaked open, the two of you walking out without a care in the world.

y/n had a blanket draped over her figure, a tired expression on her face—disheveled hair topping it all off.

when the two entered the living room to see the group, y/n couldn’t help but have a horrified look take over her face, realizing they were there the entire time.

“please don’t tell me-”

“yep,” sam mumbled, although she couldn’t help but let a sly smile take over her features as you turned to ethan.

“this is so embarrassing,” you mumbled, hiding your face in his chest as he wrapped an arm around your waist.

“atta boy, ethan” chad chimed in, causing ethan to smirk as you shook your head in embarrassment.

“atta boy.”

#ethan scream 6 #ethan landry fluff #yandere ethan landry #ethan landry x fem!reader #ethan landry oneshot #ethan landry imagines #ethan landry smut #ethan landry scream #ethan landry imagine #ethan landry x reader #ethan landry

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onlyseokmins · 1 year ago

Text

babymaker • c.s.c

Pairing: choi seungcheol x afab!reader Genres: smut (minors dni!), roommates!au, fwb!au, lil angst if you squint plus gross fluff Warnings: swearing, mentions of past rough/marathon sex, edging, overstimulation, fingering, mentions of oral sex (fem. receiving, male teasing), biting (bc i wrote this), scratching, marking, mentions of car/exhibitionism sex, objectification, degradation, slight choking, tiny obsession w/ cheol's ass + tatts, making out and tons of kithing uwu, reader's a brat and economic major, cheol's a wealthy arrogant bbygorl, creampies <3, breeding kink, light mentions of babytrapping (look at the title lmfao), lots of touching and groping and teasing, sappy stuff ew, messy sex, kinda bulge kink haha, paragraph/word heavy, throwing in some silliness as usual, & lmk if i missed smth WC: 7.9k A/N: i know it's like a month late but this was suppposed to be for cheol's birthday lmfao but it's also meant to be a sequel to Lusty Gallant although it can be read on it's own ig esp since the characters seem ooc </3 also thanks to @hwanghyunjinenthusiast for giving me details on what cheol kithes taste like mwah

Seungcheol and you still live together. And yes, that means you're still committed to fucking on every surface possible in the very nice apartment space comfortable for two.

Roommates with benefits works out well for the both of you — seeming to lean mostly in your favor.

University is a hop and a skip away, close enough for Seungcheol to swing by on his way home from the office with a minor detour. The attractive man's appearance always causes several students to squeal and twirl their hair when he parks next to the sidewalk in a sleek, expensive black and red car. Silver rings that probably cost as much as your tuition adorn long fingers as they tap, tap, tap against the leather steering wheel while he waits.

Seungcheol looks for you over the rim of fake sunglasses perched on the tip of his nose and tongue poking between brilliant white teeth revealed by a smug smirk. Your friends are not subtle — a few in-the-know of what kind of arrangement you have with him and the majority of others not — when they dig an elbow into your ribs or smack your arm in excitement.

You loathe the gawking stares with the same amount of intensity as the tiny sparkle of delight that allows yourself to bask in Seungcheol's showy display of attention that's only partially for you. Aware of what he really loves is soaking up everyone focused on him, brushing back bangs with a pleased grin after checking himself out for the hundredth time in the rearview mirror.

Still, the man is as punctual as clockwork despite a hectic schedule. Deluding yourself is fun whenever he rolls down the window and asks just loud enough for onlookers to hear and swoon over, "How was night class, sweet stuff? Did my luckiest charm learn anything new to advise me on the market's trends?" and receiving an eye roll in return.

"I keep saying you don't have to do this," you remind him every. single. time. because you're sincerely fine walking back the same route you take in the morning.

"Nonsense, it'd be a sin to let a pretty little thing like you walk the city streets in the dark all alone. 'sides it's on my way."

"Of course, as long as it's convenient."

"Convenient?" he repeats with a cocked eyebrow and watches as you slide into the ridiculous car with a cute but sulky pout. An indication that something has ruffled your feathers, if even just a little.

You know not to slam the door too hard when closing it because the one time you did just to be a brat, your battered pussy paid the price. It was very sore for a good couple of days after being repeatedly edged for hours as punishment. First by his fingers during the drive home, next with his mouth on the hood of said car after he'd pulled into the garage, and then teasing touches along the several little pit stops on the way to the bedroom.

All until you were pressed face-down into silky sheets, finally allowed to let go for the first time of the night with his thick girth easing its way inside of your aching cunt to the hushed words of, "Have to touch my baby gently, treat 'em with lotsa care. Always gotta play nice with the things I like, 'kay?"

Safe to say, you learned your lesson. Who wouldn't after being nearly bedridden and limping around for almost two days?

Seungcheol lets out the same kind of disappointed huff when you apologized to him for having to take care of you after that particularly harsh sex marathon — or any time, for that matter. "I've never thought of it as an inconvenience."

"You're a busy man."

"Not so busy that I can't pick you up, 'specially given that we live together."

"Under various terms and conditions. One of them being that I put up with all your inconveniences, not vice versa."

"Then simply think of it as an additional nuisance of mine you have to deal with. You know I won't do anything you don't want, but at least let me have this so I know you're safe." Another harsh sigh leaves his mouth as he adds, "Even if the university was on the other side of town, I'd be there."

"Yeah, okay."

While there's a general love-hate relationship with your sassy behavior, it's in times like these where he extremely dislikes it since the timing is rather improper to fuck it out of you. Alas, he's left to fumble for an alternative that presents him as a man who possesses some semblance of decorum.

"Can drive something else, find a car that doesn't draw so much attention."

"It's not the car," you snap back without thinking. Lips pressing together in a thin line when Seungcheol's fingers that wish they were on your thigh drum menacingly on the console as a substitute, rings flashing under the glow of the passing streetlights.

"Then what is it?" Your name falls from his lips in a soft, commanding kind of plea.

Lucky for you, the short drive is almost over and you can avoid answering for the last couple of minutes. Pretending to mull it over as you focus on steadying the pounding thump of your heart and the erratic breath caught in your lungs.

"It's nothing," you lie fairly easily, already slinking out of the car the minute he brakes in the garage and ignoring the dark brown eyes trained on you because they will make you hesitate. You have to stay firm or end up caught in his trap. "Just tired, 's all. I'm gonna head to bed early, see you in the morning?"

And you don't wait for a response. Gently closing the car door and then sprinting as unsuspiciously as possible into your designated bedroom. Seungcheol won't follow or pry for now. He's always made a point to respect any boundaries you set and the promise to see him when you wake up will keep the man at bay for now. And you sure as hell were going to use all of that to your advantage, curling up under a blanket and trying to figure out what the fuck is going on.

This "roommates with a multitude of benefits" arrangement worked. Chugging along like a well-oiled mechanism. So why were you contemplating the risk of messing it up and throwing the machine off its steady track? For something so fleeting? So emotional? The one thing that always fucks up these kinds of relationships?

Sure, you were in love with the way Seungcheol carried himself. His swagger. His money. Confidence, charisma, oh… and his cock, too. Who wouldn't be? But now, oh no, now you were also in love with the man himself — stupid Choi Seungcheol!

It was a gradual build. Always there in the background. All it took was for you to acknowledge its existence. Perhaps it was meant to play out this way. But you were still going to hold him responsible as an equal in contributing to this mess just as much as you were for falling. Your fingers clutch at the blanket, the poor fleece serving as an unfortunate outlet for your frustration.

When did the crazy marathons dwindle out? By no means had the two of you stopped fucking — absolutely not. It just meant that, well, rather than Seungcheol just fucking you, he more or less made love to you.

You feel a shiver down your spine and scream into a pillow at the worms writhing in your brain.

The sex was still terrific. You habitually muffle your sounds as it is — not ones of pure frustration like tonight — but out of extreme pleasure. The filthy debauchery hadn't changed either. The two of you deeply reveled in your depraved dynamics and more insane acts, maybe even getting dirtier once this subtle shift happened.

Safety. Security. Seungcheol.

Words you would've never thought to use in relation to him.

And then there was the aftercare. A strange new intimacy. He cuddled in bed after taking the effort to clean each other up for a good night's rest. Remaining there fast asleep and quietly snoring long after you untangle yourself from the comforting warmth of his arms to start the day. Mornings were no longer cold because he chose to stay.

Weekends were becoming your favorite too. When he waddles around shirtless, barely awake upon discovering you gone from his embrace. A back-hug immediately when finding you again. Soft gropes at your curves and low groans of contentment while pressing his nose into the crook of your neck, breathing in your scent mixed with his while you prep breakfast. Turning you around for kisses and pursuing long, slow makeout sessions that were quickly becoming the norm. Only for you to accidentally bite down a little too hard on his bottom lip when you realize the toast is burning.

You miss the way his eyes shine with affection as they follow you panicking around the kitchen. When did this big apartment of his begin to feel so alive? Even previous roommates and their loud yammering hardly made him feel at home. Tonguing at the indentation marks of your teeth molded into his lip and the sting that keeps him rooted in the present moment, the man meets your flustered expression with a grand, playful smile.

Ah, he thinks fondly, obviously.

Afternoons no longer consist of being stowed away in respective bedrooms or different rooms. Seungcheol sits at the kitchen table, furrowed eyebrows as he chips away at the excel sheet reflected in the glasses perched on his nose. You sit across from him, dutifully typing up assignments for Sunday night submittal.

He'll ask occasional questions just to learn more about you, your classes, and your dreams. Or if you simply need any help. Meanwhile, you make sure you're both staying hydrated and taking necessary breaks to rest your eyes from the screens. Sometimes you'll even get to assist him by analyzing a report. The real-world example aids as a unique use case scenario to better understand the concepts outlined in your textbooks.

You really were Seungcheol's lucky charm. He often wonders if you'd like to apply to work at the company he's in. But he'd hate to pressure or patronize you. So ultimately all he can do is stare in awe and provide steady encouragement as you formulate calculations, clean up the data, and transform it all into a presentable display of information.

It's usually his turn to cook in the evenings. Constantly getting distracted by your presence that he insists needs to be around to taste-test the vegetables that keep overcooking when he gets too caught up in tasting you. Innocent smooches here and there amid shy giggling that seems far too intimate than if he lapped at something else like in the past when he eagerly devoured your cunt right there on the countertop.

When dinner is served, you honestly never know or care how tasty it is or isn't because Seungcheol himself is the spice in your life. Your plain world now explodes in a bountiful amount of flavor thanks to him. Later, you tidy up the kitchen together — similar to how you move in tandem to freshen up in the bathroom after sex and much like a married couple would act.

And that's why your damn roommate leaves you wanting more.

These nights he kisses you bathed in the moonlight, working up a blistering heat that doesn't just simmer in your lower abdomen but follows the journey of his dedicated mouth. Upwards the wildfire burns, swooping into your chest and underneath the skin of your cheeks until it tangles with the expert tongue poking in between your lips. Seungcheol charts familiar territory with dancing fingertips across your skin, re-committing it to memory while yours sear into his, scratching at the wide expanse of his back and burying themselves in the curls of his unruly hair.

He takes you to bed — not always in a sexual manner — and it really doesn't even matter how you end up there because that is where you'll find yourself anyway. Falling asleep in his arms and waking up to repeat this strange and newly established cycle.

So the fact that you are sleeping alone speaks volumes. What is said, you're unsure but little do you know that Seungcheol continues to fear you might slip out of his hands. The attached-detached battle strategy always lurks around the corner and somehow, it's almost better when he treats you like some sort of fucktoy only.

The gentle sparkle in his eye was shielded by the switch to a mean glint, eyeing you up like you're nothing better than a piece of meat. No longer acting as the sweet yet cocky, handsome roommate you've gotten to know and grown feelings for. But reminiscent of the aloof and arrogant — still deviously attractive — man who propositioned this whole situation a little over a year ago.

Like now, as you kneel on all fours naked. Save for the humble pair of underwear whose innocence has long been destroyed due to the stains of your arousal mixed with Seungcheol's cum. Ruining the fabric that nestles between your legs for the sake of modesty you've thrown away hours — no, months — ago.

The very man sits before you on the poor couch that's seen its fair share of sinful acts. He's reclining comfortably, black t-shirt stretching out across a firm chest and broad shoulders while infamous gray sweatpants strain against thick thigh muscles as he manspreads so casually with a large hand laid over his crotch. Teasingly hiding the thing you so desire and are begging for.

But he wants you to work for it. Harder. A lot more than you already have. Put on a proper show of how much you deserve to have him. And want him.

"Come," he commands and pats his thigh like he's talking to some stray dog. When you go to sit back on your knees to stand, his eyes narrow as they darken. "Crawl."

What you don't know is Seungcheol would easily yield to and for you if you'd just let him. Be honest with him. Tell him your feelings. Unfortunately, it's in both of your natures to be hella stubborn. Too prideful to admit defeat and be completely vulnerable. You've come to an impasse.

But crawl to him physically you do, shamelessness long gone. Because what could be more shameful than how willing you are to be used by him and how wonderful it feels to be degraded?

Obviously admitting how much you like the damn man.

Goosebumps thrillingly cover your skin at how the gaze trained on you never loses its intensity with you coming closer, following all the way until your head is between his spread legs. Because he knows at least this is the most definitive way he can hold onto you for now.

"Kiss me."

And you obey, puckering your lips and tenderly placing them against the growing bulge beneath the gray fleece. Looking up with lidded eyes, blinking slowly as you let out audible smooch noises along the hard length before mouthing at where the tip lies. Leaving an even damper spot than the salty excess seeping through the fabric, suckling around the area to replace it with the hot saliva dribbling from your tongue that laps enthusiastically at the taste.

"C'mon pet," Seungcheol's tone is mocking in its chastisement, but the rough pad of his thumb rubbing your warm cheek is gentle. "Gimme a real one."

"Yes sir," falls breathlessly out of your mouth at the assumed permission, hands quickly reaching for the waistband of his sweats only to retract just as fast upon the disapproving click of his tongue.

"Not like that, up."

Uncertain, you brace yourself with the support of his quads so you're kneeling. Leaning in and tentatively pressing a kiss to the spot where you know at least one vein starts from the bottom of his pelvis and leads up to his abdomen. Tongue poking out in an attempt to feel and trace it, also effectively wetting his shirt just for good measure.

This time, a wistful sigh escapes between the man's pouty lips despite the furrowing of eyebrows because you're still not quite getting the message. The hand on your cheek slides down to your neck, briefly running his thumb tantalizingly across the side of your throat, landing on your shoulder, and grasping at your arm. Tugging up until you follow along with the motion and a bit of a surprised squeak, ultimately landing right where he wants you — straddling his lap.

"Oh," you mutter in surprise, abruptly snapped out of the lust haze that had been clouding your mind.

Center of gravity thrown off balance until your knees finally ground themselves on either side of his spread legs. Your hands hover awkwardly in the air, struggling to find something to hold onto before resolutely settling on the back of the couch. But not before Seungcheol's sturdy hands steady your hips, sporty reflexes acting faster than you can complete any of these actions.

"Oh, indeed. Already too fucked out to think?"

"No… s-sorry."

"You can make it up to me," he teases and you wait for the punchline, "with a proper kiss." It's both amazing and brow-raising when the Choi Seungcheol lets out the lowest of whines at the smallest sign of hesitation. "Don'tcha think it's the least I deserve today?"

Spoiled is what he is — but it is his birthday after all — so, of course, you're more than willing to indulge. Although the trepidation is real, manifesting in the tense stiffening of your body and the acceleration of your heart rate.

"Relax," he says gleefully — a little too gleeful. "I don't bite."

"Most times, not."

"If anyone's the biter between us, it's you so…"

The taunting murmur of, "Go ahead and bite baby," turns into a satisfied groan when you press your lips against his. Contrary to the jest and much to his delight, you're gentle. It's so adorable that he finds himself melting below you into a puddle of goo. Becoming absolute putty, lips readily parting so you can lick into his mouth.

He tastes like cherry chapstick and coffee, flavors so Choi Seungcheol that it hurts with how much they alone can possibly overwhelm you. Your nose scrunches, eyebrows following suit. Unaware of how he observes close-up through heavily lidded eyes because he wants more and more of what he can't get enough of. Afraid you might disappear. Even though you're right here — on his lap, kissing him sweetly. Yet you're still not all there.

So, he works on anchoring you to him — somehow, some way. One hand urges you to release your support on the couch, bringing your arm down to sneakily thread his fingers between yours. Naturally, the opposite one falls to eliminate the odd angle and rests on his shoulder. Seungcheol's other palm shifts to splay across your bare back and push you further into his chest, your sensitive nipples brushing against the cotton material of his shirt.

When that burning hand also encourages your ass to sit on his thighs to nearly smother him into the couch cushion and your damp core effectively presses onto the heated length stirring inside his sweats — he finally gets what he's been waiting for. The wanton moan that bubbles out of your throat is quickly swallowed up by the man himself, who ceases the passive role in the makeout session and kisses you back with a fervor that quite literally steals your breath.

He waits for you to surrender.

Not to be confused with submission. Seungcheol no longer cares about any fucked-up or sexual kind of power play nor does he want to win. He doesn't even want you to yield to or for him. Oh, he wishes you would of your own free will — but if you at least give in to the moment, to the feelings of now, and the warmth shared between you two — that's the most he can ask for and what he's grateful to accept for the time being.

Your fingers slip beneath the neckline of his shirt, inadvertently starting to trace along the same pattern as the ink that decorates his skin. The menace of a man smirks, pausing his assault on your lips to croon knowingly, "Wanna move this to your room?"

It's annoying how Seungcheol can read you even before your mind can think. And it's even more irritating at how your body reacts, thighs betraying you. Viscerally squeezing around his figure today, much like the memory of them wrapped above his waist the other day. Legs spread by him in between them as you clung to his body that had been railing into you like there's no tomorrow. Your gaze locked over his shoulder at the man's pride and joy — his nice ass — reflected in the mirror deliberately across from your bed along with the inked designs of things he held dearly marked across his back. Including the healing scratches from your nails.

"No," you grit out and break the kiss to shoot him a pointed glare, "just take off your stupid shirt."

"Thought you'd never ask."

No one should ever look that sexy taking off clothes, but of course, Seungcheol does. Any snark left in you immediately fizzles out at the teasing reveal and intentionally flexed expanse of his stomach as well as his bare chest. And yet something shifts in the air after he throws the shirt off to the side, covering his torso with his arms and giggling.

"Stop looking at me like that."

"Like what?"

"Like you're gonna devour me whole, it's making me shy!"

It's not like you can stop yourself. Goddamnit, even that weird farmer's tan is drool-inducing. And the boyish smile he dons isn't helping either. You scoff to salvage a fraction of sanity, hands back on his bare shoulders and leaning in close enough for your noses to almost touch.

"Bullshit."

"Bet."

"You love it when people stare at you."

There's a beat of silence. "But you look at me… differently."

"Hey — don't get weird on me, Seungcheol, or your dick's gonna deflate."

Normally he'd bite back at you. Stuff like: "My dick's just fine," or "Baby, it's so easy to get hard around you," and "You'd appreciate if my dick got smaller 'cause it wouldn't make you whine so much," but this time, he doesn't. He just stares at you. Thinking. Long enough for you to start getting antsy, unable to hold eye contact for any longer than two minutes, especially with him so close.

"What?"

"You like me, don't you?"

It's the damn question he throws around all the time and your eyes roll up out of habit. "Yeah, I like you better without a deflated — "

"Forget about my cock for a bit."

"Kind of hard to do," you fire back and try to grind down on the very inflated length twitching needily for the snug cunt it senses between the layers of clothes cruelly separating it from its warm home.

Of course, Seungcheol is a little too familiar with your ploys and swats at your behind before squeezing your hips. "I know it is for a cock-hungry slut like you," he growls out in frustration before reverting back to his original soft tone, "but just humor me for a second."

"… Alright."

"You like me," he states and then repeats it in earnest when you sigh again, "you really like me. I would even be so confident enough to think you're… you're in love — "

"Well quit thinking," you interrupt with a snap, "I know your high and mighty arrogance causes you to believe everyone worships the ground you walk on but that doesn't mean a damn thing!"

Seungcheol's caramel eyes flash — with irritation or hurt, you can't quite place the swirl of emotions. "So that's all it is, huh? Just a figment of my imagination. A totally unfair projection of my thoughts and feelings onto you."

"If you wanted a session so badly on your birthday, then you should've scheduled with your therapist. And if you didn't want to continue fucking, then we could've stopped after the first round 'cause I was fine but you wanted more."

"You and I both know we're not just 'fucking'," he snarls, "and yeah, I do want more and that's why I need to know — with or without the sex, forgetting about the looks I know aren't just lust-filled because I see the ones you think I don't, I need to hear it out loud — do you like me?"

The plea of your name is the doomed cherry on top, heart thudding to the floor. It feels like the breath has been punched out of you. Though his skin is fiery warm beneath your palms it's not enough to thaw the way you've completely frozen over.

"Fine," you eventually wheeze out and Seungcheol relaxes — relieved — despite the crack in your voice, only to tense at your next words. "I'll move out tomorrow. Might take me a few days to get all my stuff gathered though."

"Wait… wait, wait… '' And this is the moment when the two of you find out that the black jujitsu belt he'd earned wasn't all for naught, effectively using a well-maneuvered technique that takes you off his lap and onto your back before you can escape from him again. "Please."

He begs, desperation evident in the way he clings to you and flops his forehead defeatedly onto your shoulder. As if he isn't the one who has you pinned to the couch cushions. He's never tried to hinder you before but honestly, he thinks he's hit the breaking point.

Don't you dare fucking leave me, is what is thought — but what comes out is a broken, "Why?"

"Because… because I… I breached the c-contract and made you uncomf — "

Seungcheol's head flies back up. "Then it should be me who moves out 'cause I'm pretty sure I violated the contract first."

"Wh-what?"

"Look at me," he commands and grips your chin so you can't turn away, "look at me, baby." And when your eyes squint open to stare into his, he fixes you with the most sincere expression you've ever seen. "I'm in love with you."

Tears spring to your eyes at the wild admission. Neither of you are sure if your hearts are mending or splitting to fuse and complete the other's. What you do know is that Seungcheol melts into you with a kiss of elation and celebration, the big man further turning into an even bigger pile of mush when your hands cup both of his cheeks during it and a thumb rubs soothingly at his jaw. He smiles against your lips when you whisper back, "I love you too."

"Took you long enough." Your flustered protests are cut short when he sits up to lean against the opposite armrest, pulling you on top of him like your original positions. "Have a present for you."

"But you're the one who should be receiving gifts."

He shrugs. "I already have the prettiest one right here in my arms… even if I was almost left alone on my birthday."

"Sorry," you stroke his pouty lips, "to be fair, I was going to wait until tomorrow."

"While holed up all by yourself in your room in the meantime. Little shit, you know I wouldn't have let you go, right?"

"Yeah… because you love me!"

There's an extra giddiness to your exclamation that's contagious enough to crack Seungcheol's chagrined expression with another grin.

"And you were gonna leave 'cause you loved me…" He lets out a huff. "Whatever, water under the bridge. Anyways, the gift. It's underneath the couch."

Curious, you lay flat and brush your hand beneath the furniture. Waving it around back and forth in the blind search, subsequently shifting all over Seungcheol's chest — bare skin gliding across bare skin.

You snicker, feeling his cock stiffening once more with your movements. "Calm down, horndog."

"It's not my fault you're rubbing your very sexy body all over me!"

"… Why'd you even decide to put it here?"

"'Cause you never clean."

"Hey! Don't make me bite your dick off." It twitches beneath you. "Freak."

"We'll see who the real freak is when I go ahead and get it pierced with a barbell you'll like."

"Oh, fuck off!" comes your retort and he grumbles at the lighthearted jab while your hand finally bumps against a hard box that you grasp onto tightly. Pulling it out and frowning at the suspicious amount of dust covering it. "Gee, how long was this down here?"

"… Six months."

Your eyes bug out. "Six months?!"

"Told ya you didn't clean under there!"

"Oh yes, because that's the point here."

"It kind of is," Seungcheol teases despite the slightly wistful look in his eyes. "Knew you wouldn't find it there."

All you can do is shake your head, gingerly opening what you assume to be a jewelry box only to abruptly shut it out of pure shock. "What the fuck did I just see?!"

"Do… do you not like it?"

"That's so not the question that needs to be asked right now."

"It kind of does 'cause if you don't want it, I'll buy something else. "

"You've gotta be shittin' me." You fix him with a hard glare though he barely reacts to it. "How much of your bank account did you deplete for that?"

A satisfied, cocky smirk is all you get in return. "'Tis but a bucket of water taken out of the ocean, sweetheart. Trivial."

"Choi Seungcheol."

"C'mon," he takes the box from you with one large hand and pops it back open. You can actually feel the ache in your eyes set in at the sight of the dazzling jewels once again. "Thought it'd look gorgeous on you."

It's easy to visibly melt at his words because he's such a smooth talker along with the knowledge that he's kept this hidden for approximately half of a year. But that still doesn't distract you from the insane amount of delicate crystals forming a beautiful open heart shape linked to two short double-strands of diamond studs on either side that join together with a silver clasp.

"It looks expensive," you correct, "how much was it?"

"Hmm, well it's seventeen carats so… a couple thousand, maybe?"

Your jaw drops, eyes widening as one of Seungcheol's beefy fingers carelessly thumbs at the choker like the piece of jewelry couldn't pay off more than half of your student debt. You likely also get some type of look on your face because he clicks his tongue.

"Now, don't you worry your pretty little head about it. I would happily spend ten times as much to get something that expresses just a fraction of what your worth is — in the world and… to me."

"You're so sappy, what the heck."

"Better not start something you can't handle, love." Seungcheol kindly warns, a little affronted when his puppy dog eyes and babygirl pout aren't as effective at distracting you as he'd like. Well, there are other ways. "You can't return it without testing it first."

"Testing?"

"Mhm, but why don't you give your sugar daddy a kiss of gratitude first?"

You scoff. "The only thing you share in common with a glucose guardian is being filthy rich."

"Not because I'm sweet like sugar?"

"Maybe just a little," you admit and lean in to give him an even sweeter kiss, much like earlier. And like before, the man turns into a puddle of syrupy goo at the featherlight touches of your lips on his.

But it's different at the same time. Kissing your roommate has always been with a bit of restraint. That all fades away as you melt into him — safety, security, Seungcheol, surrender — the both of you addicted to and lost in one another's taste while everything else falls away.

Until the little shit that he is distracts you enough for him to deftly extract the choker from its box and fasten it around your neck. You hiss at the shock of cold metal and gemstones as well as the physical and economically ethical weight around your neck, breaking the makeout session.

"See? Gorgeous, just like I thought. Not that you can look at it right now… maybe next time, we'll test it, heh, in your room."

"So that's what you meant by test…"

The lightbulb finally goes off in your head but all you receive in response is a smug look. Unaware that the grand menace is pondering what position he'd like best to see the choker for the first time in action. Something inside him clicks after absentmindedly slipping a finger underneath one of the diamond chains and watching you attempt to swallow at the increase in pressure constricting your airflow.

It's all bright white teeth when he smiles and whispers, "On your back, baby."

And you shuffle backwards obediently, letting gravity take your body down in almost a mini trust fall, knowing there will be a soft landing and that Seungcheol would never let you fall — unless it's for him.

Indeed, he does fall with you. Bodies pressed close together before he starts a burning trail of kisses starting below where the jeweled collar lays sparkling prettily against your throat. Down between your breasts he goes, an appreciative squeeze to both with warm hands that follow along with his movement.

Little nibbles to your skin and brushes to your sides that first have you squealing at the sharp nips and ticklish sensations. They're accompanied by the upward curl of his lips that only spreads wider when those airy giggles of yours transition to light moans the closer he stakes his claim to the more intimate parts of your body.

He lovingly suckles the skin of your tummy, leaving stinging signs of affection littered around your belly button and right above the band of your panties. There, Seungcheol pauses and lifts his head to look directly at you, not even trying to hide the fiery swirl of lust and adoration in his eyes and it makes you wonder how you've ever missed it before.

But that's neither here nor there, every nerve in your system is lit up in a wave of heat that has your hips instinctively rising as if pleading with him. Enough that his brown irises can't help but flit down to observe with raised eyebrows only to meet your flustered expression again with a totally-full-of-himself stare.

"So sweet and needy," Seungcheol murmurs appreciatively and hooks both thumbs underneath the side wings of your underwear to tug them off. "So fuckin' messy too," he adds in a condescending tone as if someone between your legs isn't licking his lips like a man lost in the desert for days stumbling upon a hidden oasis.

The bold eye contact he gets a kick out of maintaining is broken just to watch how the fabric adheres to your center thanks to the mix of his cum from much earlier and the constant leak of arousal pooling from your heated core. He's slow in the process of removing the saturated clothing. Giddy anticipation building until it finally peels away with a suggestive squelch to reveal your creampied cunt.

A choked groan rumbles in his chest. You're caught in the struggle between snapping your legs together out of shyness or letting them fall open just as he likes, the fear of soiling the couch again no longer even a thought. But still in no rush, Seungcheol slips your panties down one leg and while they hang off the other, supports your heel in his palm to place butterfly kisses along your ankle.

You peek at him in between the fingers covering your eyes and heated cheeks. "What are you doing?"

"Admiring you." Smooch. "Adoring you." Peck. "Marveling at how beautifully wet you get… this all for me, love?"

"Yeah, so… so you should take re-responsibility."

"Oh? And how so? What for?"

"Mmph!" You jolt at how fast he moves to fling your underwear over his shoulder and hover over top of you, whispering naughty words into your ear while roughened finger pads brush against slick folds.

"For knockin' you up? Not my fault this hungry pussy is never satisfied no matter how many times I stuff it. Greedy lil' thing."

"'m s-sorry… I — oh! Ohh…"

"You don't sound sorry."

Seungcheol mocks the shuddering moan that spills past your lips like he hadn't just shoved two chunky digits past those slippery folds and into the suffocating warmth beyond. His pointer finger bears its usual silver ring, the cold metal there and around your neck causing you to break out in a sweat at the chill engulfing your whole body. All from the heat swirling from the neck down, the torturous buildup between your legs, and meeting in a firestorm that explodes in your gut and makes your cunt tighten around his moving digits.

Your right arm snakes behind his nape and clings around it for dear life, nearly slamming the man's face into your tits — not that he's complaining — while the other sneaks between your bodies. Trailing down to where Seungcheol's fingers plunge inside of you, running yours across his exposed knuckles to dampen them with the filthy mix of arousal and cumstains he's playing in before tugging and teasing at your clit right above his vigorous actions.

He clicks his tongue. "Now, what did I say about touching things that belong to me?"

"Don't touch without permission." A warning look that lacks any ferocity is shot your way but the corner of your lips quirks up, eyelashes fluttering, because he's really just full of shit. "And to handle… handle them with care, which 's all I'm doin'."

"Brat."

"You love me."

"Damn right, I do. But if you're gonna use that against me like this maybe I have no choice but to discipline you."

You whimper when he withdraws his fingers, the loss and emptiness a punishment itself. "D-don't be mean."

"I'm never mean to you."

"You're not." You acquiesce with a cute little sniffle, interlocking your hands behind his neck to bring him down nose to nose. "'cept when I want your dick but s'kay, love you anyways."

"Using the L-word on me now, huh? Speaking of which, I never got you back for the little stunt you tried to pull earlier."

"Wha — ?"

The new position you had pulled him into grants Seungcheol the full teasing power he was honored to be blessed with. A dripping cock leaks precum between your bodies and smears your belly with the hot excess. Supported by a forearm beside your head, he languidly strokes his hard length and snickers. Barely wedging the mushroomed tip into your moist outer folds with a noisy squish and emitting a strangled groan from the back of the man's throat. Just enough so you can feel the faint tantalizing burn his girth promises in its efforts to stretch out your cunt, a buzz to the underside of your deliciously sore and engorged clit upon contact.

He's all toothy when you moan in response. Wiggling his hips lets him dip in a little further for the sole purpose of watching your eyes glaze over and threaten to roll to the back of your head. Lips parting wider in an adorable 'o' shape.

"Thought you could just leave like it's nothing. As if I don't fuck you full of enough cum to babytrap you here with me… Oh? You'd like that wouldn't you, pussy tryna gobble me up like the slutty whore that you are."

"Mmph, ah… only yours!"

No one has to be your special someone to read your body so easily but it's the fact that he is the one who's able to make your cunt react and squeeze around him just like so that fuels his ego. A mean sneer chisels his softer face features — less of a reaction towards you and more of him struggling not to plunge his pelvis forward and rearrange your guts. Or even worse (better), to bust a nut inside, painting your velvet walls with a creamy white.

It would be so easy to slide in a little further… you're begging him with slurred words and a steady pulsating grip around his dick — just daring him to ease the rest of it inside.

But then you would never learn your lesson. And if there's one thing Seungcheol loves more than being wrapped up in the tight clench of your cunt, it's making you work for it. Show off how desperate and cock-drunk you are.

"Y'know, all you had to do was tell me. Would've fucked you on every surface of this house, make sure there wasn't a moment that passed where you didn't have my cum dripping down your legs." He relents with the most meager of thrusts forward, widening the spread of your pretty folds suckling around him. "Anything to keep my darling 'lil babymaker satisfied, pump you full every minute of the day and make sure it takes."

"Ch-Cheol… please! Wan' you so bad."

"You'd like that, right? Givin' you a baby so you stay here forever. We'll make as many as you want, I'll even take time off to help." The sudden rush of paternal instincts makes the man pause, chuckling and muttering more to himself, if anything, "maybe you've been tryna babytrap me all along."

"Jus' want, just want your dick."

"I know, baby."

Seungcheol simpers at your pitiful plea but the menace in him victoriously pulls out and away, the departing wet 'pop' as loud as the slight fracture in his heart at doing so.

"No!"

In visible grief, your seizing legs clamp at his side with your heels digging into the dip right before the curve of his ass, clawing at his shoulder blades like a cat. That does nothing though except squish his length against your needy cunt, gliding pathetically against it but not once inside.

He smirks and whispers hoarsely, "If you want it so bad, put it in yourself."

A shaky hand reaches down to grasp and stroke at his dick, inadvertently brushing against your swollen clit that has your hips jumping. You bite down on your lower lip in an attempt to concentrate, blindly guiding his slippery cockhead to where it rightfully belongs. All while Seungcheol watches with amusement and a pained expression of how heavenly your hand feels on him — and even more when you succeed and bully him inch by inch inside of your gummy walls that suction and ripple greedily.

"There we go, yeah fuck… just like that."

Further and further, squelch by squelch until your pussy stretches to swallow and take him all. Only a finger's width between your pelvises kissing one another, knuckles snug against his heavy scrotum. You release him with triumph, clinging again to his neck. Seungcheol takes the final push and you let out simultaneous moans when his balls settle warmly against your ass and the neatly trimmed hairs at the base of his shaft are flush with your pubic bone. The tiny rough strands becoming even more soft and soaked by all of the arousal leaking out of your hole and his slit.

"Mine," he affirms and sticks his pinky through the open diamond heart pendant, nail lightly scratching the front of your throat.

"Yours." You hold onto his wrist, finally feeling so deliriously full and giggling a bit because you're somewhat light-headed. "You're mine too."

"Yeah, all yours, baby."

Seungcheol's beginning thrusts are slow, deep, and concentrated. He barely leaves your warmth, only sliding a little bit back before a harsh thrust forward to nudge his tip against the rougher spot that has some drool dribbling at the corner of your mouth out of sheer pleasure.

That doesn't last long though, the both of you are extremely worked up and super sensitive. It only takes a few minutes before he's setting an erratic pace. Strong forearms cage your head to protect it and keep you somewhat stationary while giving him enough strength to absolutely plow into you without forgiveness.

The couple thousand dollar choker starts to shift against your skin, bouncing ever so slightly in time with each repetition of relentless slams into your pussy. Such a sight delights Seungcheol so much, eyes focused on the glittery accessory and listening for its rhythmic jingle — bruising your tender flesh in ways that his lips don't — that ends up drowned out by the continual slap of the hard fucking he delivers.

"Gonna cum for me, sweetheart? Let me fill ya up?"

"S-soon! 'm gonna cum… so soon!"

"I… know. Oh fuck, I know baby. Let go for me, please. Surrender… ngh 'n give it all to me."

A powerful climax washes over you like a surprise, the setoff finalized by the large hand placed on your tummy. Applying just enough pressure to feel every vein and ridge of the cock against your inner walls while on the outside, Seungcheol lets out a guttural and feral groan at the upward bulge beneath his fingertips.

You let go with a wail that's swallowed by his lips capturing yours. Your nails dig into whatever you're grasping onto, teeth unconsciously biting down on his tongue you meant to simply caress with your own.

He lets out a strangled "oomph!" but the pain is easily sedated by the seductive way you contract and massage his dick in your unraveling — and then unprompted, he's spilling over the edge too. Coating your walls in thick ropes of white that sear your insides, gobbling up the release with repeated clenches as you both pant and wait for the orgasmic bliss to fade out.

"I think you're so sexy." Seungcheol mumbles the words tiredly into your shoulder and the laugh you let out sounds more like a winded wheeze.

"How lucky I am that you think that, has the post-nut clarity hit yet or… ?"

"I'm serious. I love you."

"I love you too. Happy birthday to my perfect sugar boyfriend or whatever."

He snorts, lifting his head to send you a lazy grin. "Yeah, happy birthday to me — the luckiest bitch on the planet to be loved by you."

"Spoiled is more like it but yeah. I'd say I'm pretty lucky too."

Adoration shines in both of your weary eyes, though Seungcheol has the audacity to lick his now very dry and cracked lips. "Say, was I right in picking out your gift or do you need more test runs?"

"What I need is a hot bath — no funky business — and at least twenty-four hours of sleep."

"That sounds good too. Y'know… if we sleep for a whole other day and confirm our relationship then, we can fuck for two days straight every year as an anniversary celebration!" His voice lowers, already acting naughty and unintentionally work himself up. "And then I'm positive you'll be bred properly."

You slap his shoulder. Hard. "Choi Seungcheol!"

"'m just kiddin'," he blatantly lies and gently pulls out of your sloppy pussy. Grunting at the goop and messy wetness that got everywhere. "Think we'll need to get a new couch."

"Great idea! Now, you can spend your money on something practical."

"Love you too."

"God, what did I get myself into." When you roll your eyes, a toothy grin is what you receive in return.

"I dunno, love, but I think this roommates to fuck buddies to lovers arrangement will work out beautifully, don't you?"

You give him another kiss just to shut him up. If you ever admit he's right, well, that would be with a mouthful of cock and a story saved for another time.

onlyseokmins: September 2023 ©

#ez.creates #svthub #svt.smut #seungcheol smut #choi seungcheol smut #smut #svt smut #seventeen smut #kpop smut #scoups smut #I secretly loathe this fic 😭#2k 🎇

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superblysubpar · 1 year ago

Text

dad!steve harrington x mom!fem!reader

a How Sweet It Is story

summary: Your husband and you have a Christmas Eve night to yourselves while the six little nuggets are asleep in their beds. | 18+ / NSFW

warnings: | the kids are mentioned in this as well are dad/mom things, but def not a part of this - just a night for you and your hot husband okay? | SMUT (dry humping, making out, dirty talk, fingering - clit action, steve cums in his plaid pajama pants)

1324 words

the prompts: [single lip] - a sucking or nibbling of one of the partner's lips [GRIND] - one muse teasingly grinds against the other

Winter, 1999:

“Steve,” you laughed, back arching as the back of your thighs hit the couch he was guiding you towards, “Steve, we should go to bed. They’re gonna be up in like three hours.”

Your husband’s teeth scraped against your racing pulse, tongue licking before he mumbled into sweat kissed skin. “Bed is for losers.”

His mouth kept its assault up, lips skimming higher, chasing your mouth as you shook your head from side to side. “Careful,” Steve squeezed at your hips, and you spoke into his cheek as he sucked at the curve of your jaw. “Last time you said something was for losers-oof!”

Back against the couch as he laid between your legs, landing softly but letting his weight fall against you as you both laughed. A little giddy off of a few hours of absolute silence from your zonked out monsters, a little bit of wine, and a lot of chocolate chip cookies. The stockings hung, presents wrapped, the tree glittering in the corner, the living room dark save for the warm glow it gave off.

“You were saying?” Steve’s nose nuzzled into your neck, breath warm and leaving goosebumps in its wake.

“Mm,” your eyelashes fluttered as he found the spot that made your hands jump to his shoulders, mouth kissing it sweetly as you stuttered out, “Melt down. Glasses. Losers.”

Steve’s tongue flicked at your skin, dirty and teasing making your stomach burn, causing your hips to roll against him searching for friction.

“Oh, speaking of,” he reached over your head and you nipped at his arm, fingers scraping down his abdomen so he twitched away from the tickling. Face returning into your field of vision with glasses falling down the slope of his nose. His palms pressed to the cushion on either side of your head as he stared down at you. Cinnamon and emerald and gold framed by the new wire set he got, a little bit of stubble dotting his jaw and above the curve of his lip that you ached to feel scrape along your skin again. That is, until he spoke again, voice going a little higher and scratchy, face contorting into a character.

“All the better to see you with my dear.”

You groaned, swatting at his chest as he smiled, white teeth on full display, cheek pushing up the two moles that dotted it.

“Ew, gross! Don’t do that voice.”

Steve laughed, quiet, but deep from his chest, chain falling loose from his pale blue shirt as he propped up again, the new angle causing his hard length to nudge at your cunt through the layers. His eyes sparkled, eyebrows going up as your lips parted at the feeling.

“You don’t like that one?” He pouted, bottom lip jutted out, hovering over you and rolling his hips with a little more pressure to get your eyes to flutter, “The babies love that one. Luke always turns the page back and Annie smacks my nose till I do it again.”

Thinking about him reading to your children was not helping your act of pretending he wasn’t slick - you knew what he was doing, chain bumping your chin as he leaned closer, red wine and chocolate on his lips just out of reach for you to taste.

“Oh,” breathless, fingers digging into the couch so you wouldn’t grab him, “Well with that rave review, please, Steve, talk dirty to me in your big, bad, wolf voice.”

Steve let his lips brush against yours, holding your top one between his as you parted for him, squirming beneath his body. He tapped his nose to the end of yours, rolling his lower half slowly, dragging his dick up and down you as he swallowed.

“Want me to talk dirty, baby? You sure? Last time we ended up with twins.”

“You,” your teeth scraped against your bottom lip as he thrust a little, tip nudging at your clit, his hand grabbing onto your waist as your stomach flipped. “Y-you always talk dirty.”

“Yeah?” Steve’s hand roamed down your thigh, dragging his nails across the skin under the sleep shorts, hitching it higher on his hip so he could drag himself over you harder. “What’s your favorite?”

He kissed over the corner of your mouth, tongue swiping over your bottom lip as your back arched and his fingers dug into the plush skin of your ass, pushing under the hem of the shorts higher. Steve kissed you, one tiny chaste peck, voice low, a gravel and rasp behind the murmur, “When I tell you, you taste so sweet?”

The whine that leaves you just encouraged him, but he teases, drawing away only to push against you harder in a way that made your skin hot, toes curling into the couch. Steve’s mouth pants against your cheek, both of your hips grinding in a shared rhythm, the tip of his cock pushed at your clit in the same spot, over and over, his cheeks turning pink as your neck extended, his name leaving you in a gasp.

He kissed your cheek, lips dragging to your jaw, mouthing at you hungrily. “No? Is it when I tell you to be patient? That you can’t,” he thrusts harder and your teeth bit hard on your lip to suppress the moan that fights to come out when he exhaled, “Cum yet?”

His lips pulled at your bottom lip, freeing it so he can bite, teeth scraping before he sucked, moaning into you. Releasing you with a pop as you both fought for deeper breaths. His hand pushed at the band of your shorts as yours curled up the soft cotton of his shirt and he swallowed, babbling, “Is it honey? Baby? Just your name? You like it when I say your name? Tell you what you do to me?”

Steve drags himself over you faster, your hips rolling hard, and your entire body lit up, stomach burning, ready for him to just let you have it. Your clit was throbbing as he laughed, dark, lips parting easily, tongue swiping over yours filthy as he grunted. “Fuck, look at you, angel. You’re gonna cum from just this aren’t you?”

“Ye-yes,” your hands grabbed at his jaw, bringing him into you, needing to taste him as the heat started to swallow you whole.

He cursed into your mouth, fingers sliding under the soaked cotton between you two until he was pushing circles into your nerves, your body a taut band as his mouth parted over yours, “Make a mess all over me, yeah? Tell me how much you want it.”

You gasped out his name, babbling another breathless yes, begging for more even as your thighs started to shake around his hand, and Steve nodded into your kiss, “That’s my girl, take what y-you want.” His hips and fingers matching the frantic way his mouth moved over yours.

You were asking him for harder, more, yes until he was swearing into your lips and your back was arching off of the couch. His fingers were faltering, messy circles against your slick and his hips lost their rhythm, as you felt him twitch against you, he gasped out your name and a desperate please.

Your mouth fell open in a silent scream as the orgasm crashed over your body, fingers tingling and head feeling dizzy as he kissed you deeply. Your hands wrapped up and grabbed at the back of his head, fingers lazily moving through the soft brown waves. He held you closer, palms against your spine as he stayed between your legs, your kissing growing slower, noses pressed to cheeks, mouths drawing in and out for more until you couldn’t breathe anymore.

It’s quiet aside from heavy panting when you part, bodies soaked in sweat and buzzing. Steve’s glasses askew on his face has you laughing, reaching up to fix them and he beamed, forehead knocking against yours.

“It was the voice, wasn’t it?”

#dad!steve harrington #how sweet it is AU #steve harrington #steve harrington smut #steve harrington drabble #steve harrington fic

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lefteagleblizzard · 5 months ago

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𝔚𝔢𝔢𝔨𝔢𝔫𝔡 𝔴𝔬𝔫𝔡𝔢𝔯𝔰

Mike Schmidt x male reader

Summary: Many weeks have passed since your relationship with Mike began. Every chance you got, every break from studying, you spent with the Schmidt siblings, especially on weekends. Today, in particular, the three of you spent the whole day together, which ended with Abby falling asleep in the middle of a board game she insisted on playing despite the late hour. In the process of cleaning everything up, you and Mike start asking each other some questions to get to know each other better. The situation escalated from there.

Warnings: Age-gap (5 years) between you and Mike. Male reader. He/him pronouns used towards the reader. Fluff. Mike can speak Spanish, translation to everything at the end (y’all, every time I watch that video on YouTube of Josh answering the web’s most searched question about him and he starts speaking in Spanish... 🥵) Smut at the end. Top Mike. Bottom reader. Table sex. Reader being called “good boy”. Handjob (M receiving). Rimming (R receiving). Anal sex.

Words count: 4500

Part 1-Part 3-Part 4-Part 5-Part 6-Part 7-Part 8-Part 9-Part 10-Part 11

Can also be found on wattpad and ao3

The weekend had arrived, bringing with it a much-needed break from college lectures and a chance to spend time with Mike Schmidt and his younger sister, Abby. The three of you had spent the day immersed in simple pleasures: watching Abby's favorite movies, preparing meals together, and even an impromptu dance party in the living room, which left Abby giggling uncontrollably.

As night fell, Abby suggested playing a board game. It was a game designed for children, colorful and straightforward, but its appeal lay more in Abby's enthusiasm than in the gameplay itself.

Mike sat back on the couch, his eyes softening as he watched you and Abby playfully argue over the rules of the board game she insisted on playing. His feelings for you had grown quickly over the past few weeks, and he often found himself marveling at how easily you fit into his life. It was a feeling that both comforted and surprised him-this natural blending of your world with his.

Mike's gaze lingered on you, noticing how you engaged with Abb, your smile genuine and warm, It was moments like these that made him realize just how much you meant to him. The thought of spending nights like this more often, with you by his side, filled him with a profound sense of happiness.

Abby seemed to relish the sight of you and Mike together, often teasing you both with exaggerated gestures of affection.

Whenever you leaned in to kiss Mike or wrap an arm around him, Abby would dramatically roil her eyes, feigning disgust in a way that only a precocious child could. "Ew, you guys are so gross" she'd declare, her face scrunched up, though the playful twinkle in her eye gave her away.

Mike enjoyed playing along with Abby's antics.

He would sometimes pause mid-kiss, turning to her with mock seriousness, "You're just jealous because he can’t resist my charm."

Abby would respond with an exaggerated gag, making you both laugh. "Ugh, please, spare me!" she'd cry, pretending to shield her eyes.

Abby's competitive spirit shone through as she took an early lead, her laughter infectious as she watched the two of you struggle to catch up.

Despite the game's child-like simplicity, you and Mike indulged her, enjoying the shared moments of joy and the occasional eye roll when she pulled off a particularly clever move.

Eventually, the day's excitement took its toll on Abby, and she gradually succumbed to sleep, leaning against Mike's side. Her soft snores were a testament to the fun filled day, and you couldn't help but smile at the scene.

He gently shifted her into his arms, carefully carrying her to her bedroom. The sight of Mike's gentle care warmed your heart, showcasing a side of him that made you admire him even more.

Once Abby was safely tucked into bed, Mike returned to the living room, with a soft sigh, he bent down and kissed you, his lips brushing against yours with affectionate warmth.

"She's out like a light," he chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck.

With the game almost cleared away, you caught the hint of reluctance in his demeanor, as if he was fighting the urge to suggest calling it a night. He wanted to savor this rare moment of togetherness, not wanting to seem like the boring type who couldn't keep up.

"Hey," you started, your voice light as you gathered some puzzle pieces into a box, "how about we play a little game while we clean up?"

Mike looked at you, one eyebrow raised in curiosity. "A game? Haven't we had enough of those for one night?" he asked, his tone teasing but with an undercurrent of fatigue.

He had been running on the relentless schedule of work and caring for Abby, and the idea of simply wrapping you in his arms and falling asleep was incredibly appealing.

You chuckled, shaking your head as you continued tidying up. "Not that kind of game. I was thinking more of a question game—just you and me. We ask each other questions to get to know each other better. Nothing too serious, just...fun."

Mike hesitated, his instinctive walls coming up. You could see the reluctance in his eyes. He wasn't one to open up easily, even to someone he was dating. The thought of revealing too much too soon probably made him uneasy. But he also didn't want to seem boring or unwilling to engage with you, especially after the perfect day you had spent together. He sighed softly, then gave a small nod, agreeing to your proposal.

"Alright," he said, his voice quiet but warm, "but you go first."

You grinned, pleased that he was willing to play along. You folded up a blanket that had been tossed over the couch.

He sat on the couch and leaned back, stretching his arms with a yawn before picking up some toys scattered there that Abby has hidden in the morning.

“If you could travel anywhere in the world, where would it be and why?"

Mike paused, thinking it over as he picked up the scattered game pieces from the floor. He was silent for a moment, his brow furrowed in thought. "I don't know," he finally admitted, "I've never really thought about it. I guess.. maybe somewhere quiet. A place where Abby could be happy, where she could run around safely and just be a kid without any worries. Maybe a small town by the coast. She loves the water

You smiled at his answer, not surprised that even his hypothetical dreams were centered around Abby's happiness. "That sounds nice," you said softly, picturing the scene in your mind.

"My turn," Mike said, turning to you as he finished stacking the board games. "What about you? What's something you've always wanted to do but never had the chance to"

The question caught you off guard. You hadn't expected Mike to be so direct, but it was a good kind of surprise. You thought about it for a moment before answering. "I've always wanted to go on a road trip across the country," you admitted. "Just pack up and drive, see where the road takes me. No plans, no schedules, just freedom"

Mike nodded, seeming to understand the appeal. "Your turn, champ," he said, getting comfortable on the couch while he handed you this bag where all of Abby’s toys were.

He rubbed his eyes, trying to stay alert with a tired smile.

Mike’s head was resting on one of his hands, his eyes half-closed in a relaxed state as he waited for your question.

To break the tension, or perhaps to prolong it, you quickly thought of another question to ask.

"Say something to me in Spanish."

Mike blinked, clearly surprised by the request. You had heard him mumbling to himself in Spanish once before, early one morning when he thought he was alone in the kitchen. You hadn't understood what he had said, but the sound of the language rolling off his tongue had been intoxicating. You had been craving to hear him speak in Spanish again ever since.

Mike raised an eyebrow at your request, his fatigue momentarily forgotten. A small, knowing smile playing on his lips.

Your cheeks were already flushing with anticipation.

He studied you for a moment, clearly amused by your request. Without further hesitation, he leaned a little closer, his voice dropping to a husky whisper as he spoke in fluid, flawless Spanish.

"Eres un chico hermoso y perfecto," he said, the words flowing effortlessly from his lips

The way he said it, with such ease and confidence, sent a shiver down your spine. There was something undeniably hot about hearing him speak in a language you didn't fully understand, the foreign syllables carrying an air of mystery and allure.

"What... what did you just say?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

Mike rubbed his eyes, clearly tired but still amused by your curiosity.

“It’s a secret,” he murmured, his voice low and teasing. “But maybe, if you’re lucky, I’ll whisper it to you again...sometime.”

Grinning, you gave a nod and smoothly took the bag from his hands. With a swift motion, you began collecting the scattered toys and papers, turning the cleanup into a playful dance.

You could almost see the gears turning in his mind as he pondered a question to satisfy his curiosity. A slow smile crept across his face, transforming into a sly grin. Leaning in closer, he whispered, “Before we got together, what’s one dirty thought you had about me?”

A rush of heat surged to your cheeks, and you instinctively placed your head on the table, shoulders shaking with a mix of laughter and embarrassment while you held tightly the bag. "Why did I invent these rules?" you groaned, half in regret and half in amusement.

Mike chuckled, clearly enjoying your flustered state. His eyes went to esaminate the rest of the room, satisfied in seeing that there was almost nothing left. "Come on, you can't back out now. Rules are rules."

Taking a deep breath, you lifted your head, your cheeks still burning. "Fine," you said, your voice tinged with shyness. "There was this one time... you were fixing something around the house in a tank top. I don’t really remember what you were fixing, I wasn’t paying attention to that, you know? I was just watching you, and I couldn’t stop thinking about— hmph..." You paused, your voice trailing off as you hesitated.

Mike leaned in, clearly eager to hear more. "Thinking what?" he prompted, his tone encouraging.

You laughed nervously, finally relenting. "i kept making scenarios in my head of you pulling me close and kissing me. And more..."

The tension between you was almost palpable, a charged current that seemed to pulse through the room.

“For the record, I knew you were staring." He whispered softly at you before turning his back at you to pick up some shredded paper from the ground

You smiled softly at him, happy to know that the attraction you felt for him was mutual.

This game you started will end soon.

After moving around to pick up toys and scattered pieces of paper, you started to feel the heat creeping up your neck. You had been so focused on the game and the conversation that you hadn't noticed how warm it had gotten. Tentatively, and feeling a little self-conscious, you decided to take off your shirt to cool down.

You hesitated for a moment before you slowly pulled off your shirt, revealing your bare chest. You felt a little shy, your skin tingling with a mix of nerves and excitement as the cool air hit your exposed skin.

When you finally looked up, you saw Mike staring at you in awe, his gaze fixed on your chest. There was something almost reverent in the way he looked at you, as if he couldn't quite believe what he was seeing. The intensity of his gaze made your heart race, and you suddenly felt very self-aware.

He caught your eye and winked, a gesture that sent your heart racing. In a fit of playful defiance, you grabbed your shirt and threw it at him, your cheeks burning under his gaze.

Mike raised an arm to shield himself from the attack, laughing quietly as the shirt hit him squarely in the chest. His grin widened, clearly amused by your reaction. "Hey, no fair! Can't blame a guy for appreciating the view.” He protested, but the grin on his face told you he was anything but annoyed.

You couldn't help but laugh at his reaction, feeling both shy and bold at the same time.

Finally, after what felt like hours but was likely only a few minutes, the room was clean, and there was nothing left to distract you from the simmering tension between you. You turned to Mike, a sudden idea popping into your mind-a bold request that you weren't sure you had the courage to voice, but the thought of his hands on you was too tempting to resist.

"Hey," you began, your voice a little hesitant, "how about a reward for all that cleaning?"

Mike looked at you, intrigued. "What kind of reward are we talking about?" he asked as he leaned in slightly.

You swallowed, your heart pounding in your chest as you worked up the nerve to ask. "A massage," you finally said, your voice almost a whisper. "On my back. I could use one after all that moving around."

He nodded slowly, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

"Sure," he agreed, his voice low and velvety. He rubbed his hands together, warming them up as he asked, "Where would it be more comfortable for you?"

Without overthinking it, you moved closer to him and, in a swift motion, settled yourself onto his lap, your back facing him. He let out a surprised huff, followed by a low grunt as he adjusted to your weight.

"Easy there," he murmured, clearly taken off guard by your boldness. He leaned back slightly, his hands resting on your hips. "You're getting a little too good at this teasing thing."

"Everything okay, old man?" you teased, laughter bubbling up inside you.

"You're lucky I like you," he shot back, grinning as his hands settled on your back.

Settling into Mike's lap, you felt a flutter of excitement mixed with a warmth that spread from your cheeks down to your toes.

You could sense Mike adjusting slightly, finding the right balance to support you as his hands settled onto your shoulders. The touch was gentle at first, exploratory, as if he was reacquainting himself with every curve and line of your back. His fingers pressed into the muscles at the base of your neck, drawing out a sigh from you that was part relief, part pleasure.

"You've got a lot of tension here," Mike murmured, his voice low and intimate, the kind of tone that sent a shiver down your spine.

"I blame you for that," you teased, your own voice barely above a whisper.

His hands moved with practiced ease, kneading the knots and tightness with a care that was both soothing and intoxicating. Each stroke of his fingers felt deliberate, a careful balance between pressure and gentleness that sent warmth spreading through your body. You couldn't help but lean back slightly, closer against him, feeling the heat of his body seep into yours.

"Comfortable?" Mike asked, his breath warm against your ear.

"Very," you replied, the word coming out more like a contented sigh. You tilted your head to the side, giving him better access, the gesture both an invitation and an acknowledgment of trust.

His hands traveled lower, fingers tracing the contours of your spine with a touch that was both firm and featherlight. You could feel the calluses on his fingertips.

Mike's fingers splayed across your lower back, his thumbs working in tandem to soothe the tension from the long day. You could feel the strength in his hands, the surety of his touch, and it made you acutely aware of every point of contact between your bodies.

"You're really good at this," you murmured, the words slipping out between soft sighs of pleasure.

He chuckled softly, the sound vibrating through you. "I used to give Abby back rubs when she couldn't sleep.” he replied, his voice a deep rumble that resonated in your chest.

You couldn't help but shift slightly, pressing back against him, the motion eliciting a low hum of approval from him that sent your heart racing.

"You're making this very difficult for me to concentrate."

You smiled, your eyes fluttering open to meet his gaze. "Who said I wanted you to concentrate?"

He laughed softly, a sound that wrapped around you like a favorite blanket, comforting and familiar.

You could feel your heart beating a little faster, your breath coming a little shorter, as if every cell in your body was attuned to the anticipation building between you.

Mike shifted beneath you, adjusting his position slightly, and the movement brought you even closer together, your bodies aligning in a way that was both natural and exhilarating.

You felt a surge of courage that prompted you to turn slightly, shifting so that you could see his face more clearly.

Mike met your gaze, his eyes dark and filled with an emotion that mirrored your own. There was a moment of silence before he leaned forward, his lips brushing against yours in a kiss that was filled with an urgency that left no room for hesitation.

His tongue traced the seam of your lips, coaxing them apart, and when you opened up to him, the kiss deepened into something raw and primal.

But it was the way he moaned against your mouth that sent a thrill of electricity coursing through your veins, the sound low and rough, vibrating through your very core. The moan was muffled, almost swallowed by the intensity of the kiss, but it resonated in the pit of your stomach, sending waves of pleasure radiating outward.

And then he rotated your head slightly, his hand gripping your chin as he deepened the kiss, his mouth moving over yours with a fervor that bordered on desperation.

You could feel the tension in his body, the way his muscles coiled with the effort to maintain control, and it was intoxicating, the knowledge that he was holding back for you.

His hands slid down to your waist, and he pulled you even closer, your chest flush against his as he guided your movements with ease. You could feel the hardness of him pressing against you.

He broke the kiss only to whisper against your lips, his voice a low murmur that sent shivers cascading down your spine. "My good boy," he breathed, his words a caress that resonated deep within you, leaving you yearning for more.

Mike's own breath was unsteady, mingling with yours in a symphony of shared pleasure.

As he pulled back slightly, his lips still brushing against your skin, he whispered with a husky tenderness that made your heart flutter, "Such a good boy for me.”

His mouth found its way to your neck, pressing kisses.

"Mike...”. you whispered, your voice a breathy plea, filled with a need that you couldn't quite put into words. "Speak to me... in Spanish... please."

The request hung in the air between you, and for a moment, you wondered if he would oblige. But then, his lips were at your ear, his breath warm against your skin as he began to speak, the words flowing from his mouth in a rich, rolling cadence that made your heart skip a beat.

"Eres mi chico bueno," he whispered, his voice rough and filled with a intensity that made your knees weak. "Mi precioso, el más hermoso que he visto. Eres mío."

You didn't need to understand every word to know what he was saying, the intent was clear in the way his voice caressed each syllable, his tone heavy with adoration.

His hand slid up your back, his fingers curling around the nape of your neck as he bent down to press a kiss to your shoulder, the gesture so tender, so filled with reverence that it made your chest tighten with emotion. You could feel the way his body trembled against yours, the effort to maintain control evident in every movement, every breath.

But it was the way he continued to speak, his voice low and breathy, that sent shivers down your spine, the words a mixture of praise and profanity that made your heart race and your skin flush with heat.

"Me vuelves loco," he whispered, his breath hot against your ear. "No puedo... resistirme a ti. Eres tan perfecto, tan malditamente perfecto."

"Mi chico perfecto," he whispered, his voice rough with emotion as he leaned in to press a soft, lingering kiss to your lips. The kiss was tender, filled with a depth of feeling that made your chest tighten with emotion, and you found yourself leaning into him, your body seeking the warmth and comfort of his embrace.

His hands moved to your waist, gripping you tightly as he deepened the kiss, his tongue sliding against yours with a possessive hunger that made your knees weak.

The taste of him was intoxicating, and you found yourself drowning in the sensation, your body pressing against his in a desperate attempt to get closer, to feel more of him.

"Eres mío," he murmured, his words a promise, a vow that resonated deep within you. "Solo mío."

The declaration sent a thrill of pleasure through you, and you couldn't help the soft moan that escaped your lips, the sound quickly muffled by his kiss. His hands tightened on your waist, pulling you closer, as if trying to merge your bodies into one, to erase the space that dared to separate you.

And as his lips moved from your mouth to your neck, pressing kisses and bites along the sensitive skin there, you felt the world around you fade away, leaving only the two of you, locked in a moment of pure, unbridled passion.

Mike shifted, rising from the chair with you in his arms and he carried you to the table with a grace that left you breathless.

The cool surface met your skin as he bent you over the table, a contrast that heightened the warmth of his body pressing against you. His hands roamed with a newfound urgency.

His lips followed the path his hands had charted, pressing kisses that were both gentle and insistent.

You couldn't help the soft moan that escaped your lips, a sound of pure pleasure that echoed in the quiet room. Mike responded with a deep, resonant grunt, a primal sound that spoke of his own rising desire.

"Shh," he whispered, his lips brushing against yours in a playful reprimand. But his own breath was ragged.

Mike's hands found yours, interlocking your fingers as he leaned over you, his chest pressing against your back in a gesture that spoke of unity and devotion. His breath was warm against your ear, his whispered words a balm that soothed and ignited in equal measure.

His hand finds the front of your sweats, breaking your train of thought, and he smiles when you gasp softly.

"You're hard."

"Have been for a while," is all you say, face hot.

He just nods before kissing you again, hand rubbing against your bulge with his other one still on your rear.

His hands make haste with the strings of your sweatpants, loosening it just enough to reach in and grab your hard cock, releasing it from the confines of the fabric with a satisfied look. He rubs you softly, thumb placing just beneath the head, soaking in your noises.

He wraps his hand around you firmly now, stroking you slowly as he kisses you deep. It’s rather unfortunate that he must silence your pretty sounds but the vibration of your moans against his mouth makes up for the loss.

Mike was always this way - the pleasurer, rather than the pleased. Trust that he was always happily pleased with his time with you, with your reactions and moans, asking for more, but in general, he just wasn't the type to seek out his own gratification before giving you yours. Part of it riled you up inside, part of it made your heart yearn for him all the more.

He strokes you and you curl into him. It’s as though his fingers are laced with poison. And yet, his lips somehow carry the antidote.

Mike positioned himself in between your thighs, cock of his own throbbing through his jeans. The sight alone has you begging whatever gods may be for some kind of release, not that you’d ever repent for your sinful thoughts when it came to this man. Even if it meant going to something resembling Heaven. You’ve already experienced such a reality and he was right in front of you, rubbing his hardening self against you with no remorse or embarrassment.

Your hands reach down to finally feel him, the way he twitches against your touch, the way he groans just above you.

His hips buck up just slightly, seeking friction, and you chuckle before giving it to him. You buckle his belt and take him out of his jeans and boxers and revel at the sight.

He reaches down to help you. His mouth found yours again as his hands wrap around the both of you, rutting his leaking cock against yours, fucking into his palm.

You follow suit, hips rolling forward as you chase your high. He smirks against your lips before pulling away to look at you, "Eres tan jodidamente hermoso así."

You whine at the praise, face heating up even more - you didn't know that was even possible.

"I, I want-" You struggle to find the words, too lost in the pleasure of his dick against yours.

Mike kisses you again, understanding you regardless, and chuckles as he lets go of the both of you to help you shimmy off your pants completely.

His fingers find again the curves of your ass and he grins widely, groaning at the sight. The flat surface of his tongue laps up your hole, sopping up the area to make it easier for his thumb. He pushes the digit into your enclosure, slow yet eager.

"Mike," you sigh, eyes shut as you focus desperately on his touch.

Your hands clenched into fists on the cold table.

His tongue finally - thankfully - pushes past the precipice, your hips rising at the feeling. Already, your dick twitches in ecstasy, wanting more, wanting release. You can feel the way his facial hair curls upwards against you.

He spits once at your hole as he pulls away, his chin slick from his preparations. Two fingers pass easily through and leave you to crumble beneath him, scissoring them apart to make room for one more, rolling your head against the table, thrashing about as if you were being tortured.

He positions himself at your entrance. "Ready?"

You nod with furrowed brows and god, when he pushes the tip slowly past your rim, you swear you could die.

He pushes in steadily, slow but never faltering. He stretches you so well. You groan, a mix of pain and satisfaction flooding your senses. He holds your cheek, rubbing his thumb over the curves to soothe you as he seeks pleasure of his own deep within you.

You feel his dick twitch against your walls. He rolls his hips, aiming for that spot that drives you to madness. The angle allows this easily, your mind going blank as you become solely aware of the feeling of him entering and exiting your hole. He finds his rhythm, keeping his hands on you as he guides himself in and out, loving the way your ass looks as it ripples with every thrust. He moves his hand from your stomach down to your dick, holding it against the skin of his palm, fingers wrapping around you.

He strokes you at a pace mimicking his own movements, and your brain begins to steam, overcome with heat and desire.

"Shit," you grit, finally opening your eyes.

Your hips buck upward and his thumb shifts against your head as a result, sending you over the edge, spilling over his hand and onto your stomach.

Mike groans at the sight of you coming undone beneath him, pace quickening as he longs to join you in your ecstasy before thrusting a final time, moaning low as he spills.

Warmth spreads over you as he keeps himself slotted within. His hand rests on your stomach.

"You good?" He asks with a soft and reassuring cadence, leaning over to kiss your collarbone as his hands rub up and down your sides.

You nod, satisfied. He chuckles softly at your expression, taking it in affectionately.

As you turned to face him, you saw the exhaustion etched on his face, and your heart softened. He looked like he was on the verge of falling asleep, his eyelids heavy as he tried to keep his gaze focused on you.

"Mike," you whispered, reaching up to gently caress his face, your fingers brushing against the stubble on his jaw. "You look like you're about to pass out."

He leaned into your touch, his eyes fluttering shut for a moment as he let out a deep, tired sigh. "I'm so tired," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper.

You smiled softly, your heart swelling with affection for the man before you. "Let’s get cleaned up real quickly," you murmured, pressing a gentle kiss to his cheek.

Mike's eyes opened slightly, a grateful smile tugging at his lips. "You're too good to me," he said, his voice filled with a warmth that made your heart flutter.

You shook your head, your smile widening as you helped him to his feet. "No, Mike. We're good for each other."

Later on, as you curled up together in bed, Mike's arms wrapped securely around you, his breath warm against your neck, you knew that whatever the future held, you would face it together, with love and trust as foundation.

As Mike drifted off to sleep, his body relaxed against yours, you couldn't help but smile to yourself, feeling utterly content.

Note: I want to extend my heartfelt gratitude to everyone who read the first part of this. Your support and kind words mean the world to me and have truly inspired me to continue writing.

I hope you enjoy this second part just as much as the first. Your feedback and encouragement are incredibly motivating, and I look forward to hearing your thoughts on this continuation of the story.

Thank you once again for all the love and support!

Translation for all the words in Spanish (done with the help of my brother so blame him for any errors)

-"Eres un chico hermoso y perfecto"= "You are a beautiful and perfect boy"

-"Eres mi chico bueno" = "You're my good boy"

-"Mi precioso, el más hermoso que he visto. Eres mío." = "My precious, the most beautiful I've ever seen. You're mine."

-"Me vuelves loco" = "You drive me crazy"

-"No puedo... resistirme a ti. Eres tan perfecto, tan malditamente perfecto." = "I can't... resist you. You are so perfect, so damn perfect."

-"Mi chico perfecto" = "My perfect boy"

-"Eres mío" = "You're mine"

-"Solo mío" = "Only mine"

-"Eres tan jodidamente hermoso así." = “You're so fucking handsome like that."

249 notes · View notes

nu1lst4rs · 7 months ago

Text

doodled human designs for nightmares gang!

click for better quality

ggrahhb. i love them. will draw individual refs soon. promise. cross has jumped between nightmares gang and star sanses, and therefore is considered a neutral outcode in our au. so ill draw him later.

horror fws the trans community

Star sanses, neutral aus (p1), neutral aus (p2), extras

some headcanons under cut 3_^

warning there is alot of text

> nightmare (they/it)

DESI NIGHTMARE!!!! (this is blatant self projection.)

short. but they always manipulate their height when they're outside of their gang because they hate being short.

chubby because its ass is not used to actual food, and they have a really slow metabolism when it isnt negativity. and now that horrors "forcing" it to eat, they gain weight. fast.

intersex. not sure why i think this but they don't really have a sex, so. erm.

^ adding onto that their fluid in their expression. sometimes masc, sometimes fem, sometimes andro.

has those stupid ass hair curlers and uses leftovers for their tentacles

MATCHING NECKLACES WITH MY OTP AT THE CURRENT MOMENT. usually errormare or bsp. sometimes fluffynight. killermare if nihira is fronting.

also sugar daddy nightmare. its either rich as fuck or have no money at all. (this is kindve a crack hc)

> Dust (he/they)

leaning korean and thai mix for him. because i need to see more mixed characters.

wears pjs whenever he can. gets the most fucking stupid pj pants too. like hello kitty. comfort > style.

always dusty. mostly because he doesn't shower and smells like ASS, but also because they gotta live up to their name somehow.

TRANS MASC. dont care if you say its wrong. EVERYONE IS TRANS. (excluding horror and blue. allies!)

aroace spec 100%. most sanses are, but him in particular. would rather die than do any of the sappy bs. but wouldd love to have a partner. or maybe 3. wink wink.

"2 shorter than killer but gaslights killer into thinking he's taller

doesn't wear papyrus' scarf, but keeps it in his sleeve.

> Horror (he/him)

wanna hc him as native american. but i haven't exactly thought much about what in particular.

tall and bulky. after a lonnggg famine, horror developed an ED. where they stress eat until he's physically ill, or feeling less stressed.

doesn't need the bandages on his face, bur keeps them there because he hates the scar

little big bottom teeth. its something he developed due to the food conditions in HT snowdin.

as much as it happens, horror HATES having blood on him, so he wears an apron underneath his clothes and does the laundry often.

PROSTHETIC LEG!!!! it got stuck in a bear trap when he was in his old au, and alphys didnt really know what else to do. its not the best thing, but its reliable. killer likes to put stickers on it.

has a cleaver named maxine, and an axe called rex.

ace because i dont really think. yeah. gross. ew. intimacy.

> killer (he/they/it)

arabic. its almost canon at this point.

has a selection of knifes in his thigh thing if his magic backfires on them. favourite is its butterfly knife.

is legally blind. his ass CANNOT see. refuses to admit this.

acespec because like look at me. he can barely feel. i just think he'd love the idea of being in a relationship, and desperately want one. but know he cant be in one.

scars galore holy shit. is always somehow simultaneously sloppy and precise with his knifework. him and nightmare have a small rivalry to see who can get the most.

needs to have textures on his clothes. something to ground themself. like "oh shit we're dissociating." rubs pants aggressively. works for us.

transb... transverse...

also DID but this is hinted at in canon

HUh. okay wow that was alot. cres shut up about utmv for 5 seconds (IMPOSSIBLE) (I DIED AFTER 1 SECOND). anyways THANK YOU!!! i will post and draw stars and neutrals tomorrow maybe. just after some sleep because it is 2am. bye everyone 3.<

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jinwoosbabyboo · 3 months ago

Text

Seems An Awful Waste

Spooky season - Sylus short & headcanon reacting to Sweeney Todd: The Demon Barber of Fleet Street A/N: I LOVE THIS MOVIE. If you've never seen it you gotta watch it. This and Coraline are definitely in my top 5 movies I have to watch during spooky season. [Requested by: huntersmoon1]

Your goddaughter was in town for a week and you two decided that you needed to have a movie night. Spooky season is here and it's time to bust out all your favorite movies to welcome the month of October. First up? Sweeney Todd: Demon Barber of Fleet.

You and your goddaughter sat on the plush couch with fluffy blankets while the twins spread out on the floor with their blankets and pillows. "A demon barber?" Sylus questioned with furrowed brows as he read the description. "Yes you have to watch to understand" your goddaughter said as she tugged Sylus' arm to sit down between the two of you. She quickly snagged the remote from is hand and hit play.

"She really loves creepy movies" You whispered in Sylus' ear and placed a soft kiss on his cheek. As you pulled away he quickly grabbed your face and pulled you back for another kiss. "Ew gross can you two do that later before I throw up all over this popcorn" You reached behind Sylus and pushed her head "Watch it" You warned.

Sylus would end up picking the entire movie apart.

"I would've broke out of prison and went straight for the judge this guy took the scenic route"

He'd be confused as to why only Sweeney Todd and Ms. Lovett are the only ones who look heavily decrepit

"Why are they so pale and sunken? They have no excuse I live in darkness and I don't look like that" "Well you're also a billionaire Sylus now hush"

he would definitely tease your goddaughter as well when the hooded old beggar lady comes on screen he's leaning over and whispering "That's you"

"How is no one suspicious about where Mrs. Lovett is suddenly getting all this meat?"

Can not take the movie seriously to save his life

"that would leave behind so many bones thats not how you get rid of a body" You and your goddaughter stare at him "how exactly do you get rid of a body?" "Don't ask questions you don't want the answer to"

"This guy has it easy how can you get away with so much sloppy murder are these patrons families not noticing they're not coming home after going to the barber?"

Once Sweeney finally gets his revenge on Judge Sylus is done "This movie could've been 10 minutes if he would've just went to Judge's house to start"

He ends up giving it a 2 star review

#love and deepspace #sylus love and deepspace #sylus #lnds sylus #love and deepspace sylus #lads #lnds x you #lads sylus

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lee-laurent · 7 months ago

Text

Summer Boy Pt. 2 - Quinn Hughes

Summary: Quinn and Elwyn find themselves caught in a web of lies as they attempt to hide their feelings from their friends. Luke, however, still wants the girl and he's willing to overlook his morals to get her.

Content: angst, fluff, (sort of) unrequited love, mentions of sex, slut-shaming, panic attacks, luke being an ass

Part 1

notes: ok ok, you guys are amazing! i could never expect my first post to do that well! (also if you haven't seen my about me post, english is NOT my first language!! so spelling errors and stuff i try catch but i'm learning :)) i had a lot of ppl ask for a part 2, which is awesome cause i was planning on doing it regardless of how much attention the first part got! i haven't written in years, like since high school so this is me attempting to get back into it :D thank you again everyone, much love! - lee

p.s. ppl that asked for part 2 are tagged at the end :))

Quinn was infatuated with Elwyn. Everything she did was perfect in his eyes. Even when she'd get a little too drunk and trip over herself, he still thought she was graceful. If he wasn't in love with her already, then he definitely was now. And he wanted to shout him from the rooftops, he wanted everyone on the lake to know how much he loved Elwyn... however there was a small issue: his brothers.

Jack and Elwyn had been friends their entire lives. They were attached at the hip. Twin flames. Growing up adults always said they'd end up married, which both of them thought was disgusting. Sure, they'd been each others' first kiss, but after "learning" how to make out together they decided it wasn't meant to be. They could never see each other in a romantic light. Although Jack could never be with Elwyn, he had made it clear that his brothers couldn't either. Elwyn had been off limits since they were ten and Quinn gave her a puck at one of his games.

Luke. Where to start with Luke? Luke hadn't found Elwyn cute until she came to visit in Jersey after he signed. She'd walked into Jack's apartment, a smile on her face and he thought he'd died and gone to heaven. When did Elwyn get... hot? She'd always just been his older brother's best friend. Sure, he knew of the crush his eldest brother harboured, but he was positive Quinn would never act on it. Plus, she lived closer to Luke. If he could convince Jack, maybe he'd have a chance. A chance he was still begging for.

"Come on, Jack. Let me take her on one date!" Luke pleaded, following his brother around the pool table.

"No. You're my brother and I love you, but El can do way better."

"I- I'm not going to break her heart, Jack. One date."

"Maybe she doesn't want to date you," Jack shrugged, lining up his shot.

"Okay, then she'll reject me and I can move on. But we all saw her when we played beer pong."

"Don't be cocky, Rusty. El is a touchy drunk, always has been."

"So I can ask her on a date?"

"No."

Luke groaned, throwing his arms up in frustration.

"Who's he not asking out?" Quinn asked, leaning against the door frame.

"Elwyn."

Quinn choked on his spit, "You want to ask out, Winnie?"

"Yeah! You've seen her. She's a smokeshow."

"Ew. Don't talk about El like that," Jack grimaced.

"I mean have you seen her ti-"

"Luke! Ew! Dude."

"Shut up, Jack. If she wasn't your best friend, you'd also think she's hot."

Quinn remained silent, watching the scene unfold. He felt gross listening to Luke talk about Elwyn like that. He'd be the first to admit she was fine as hell, but hearing someone else say it felt wrong. The two younger brothers continued to bicker about the attractiveness of the girl, when Quinn finally piped up.

"Are you letting him?"

"Letting him what?" Jack's brow furrowed.

"Ask her out."

"Hell no! Winnie is off limits for brothers."

"So if I asked her out?" Trevor smirked, joining the three brothers.

"No. That applies to friends and teammates too."

"Lame," Trevor whined, leaving to find Cole.

Jack rolled his eyes, "Anyway. No one is asking out Elwyn. She doesn't even like hockey boys."

Quinn felt his heartdrop. She doesn't like hockey boys? Was she just stringing him along cause she was horny? He thought she liked him, though she'd never explicitly said it, he thought the moments they'd shared were proof enough.

Elwyn was humming along to the song playing from her phone, while she attempted to do her hair. A knock came from the door behind her, leading to press pause on the melodies of Chappell Roan.

"Come in!"

"You don't like hockey boys?"

"Huh?" She swiveled around on her chair to face the boy in her doorway. There stood a sheepish looking Quinn, his arms crossed over his chest.

"I said, 'you don't like hockey boys?'"

"Who told you that?"

"Jack."

"Oh, um, I mean... they're not normally my type."

"So you don't like me?"

"Quinn, I didn't say that. Don't twist my words," she sighed, turning back towards the mirror.

"But you haven't said otherwise."

"Neither have you."

Quinn sighed, quietly shutting the door behind him. He stood behind her and pressed a kiss to her exposed shoulder, wrapping his arms around her.

"Elwyn, I like you. I like you a lot."

She pursed her lips and nodded, leaning back into his chest.

"I like you too, Quinn."

"Is this the part where we have the best sex of our lives?" he smirked, earning a gasp and slap to his peck.

"Quinn!"

"Sorry, sorry. So... later?"

"Get out!" she giggled, pushing him away.

Fifteen minutes later, El left her room, running straight into someone's chest.

"Oof."

"Hey, Ellie."

"Oh, hey, Luke," she smiled, stepping back.

"Some of the guys and I are gonna watch a movie, if you want to join."

"Sure."

"Sick. Basement in 10?"

"Sounds good."

However, when she got down to the basement, there were no spots left. The guys had taken up the couch and all the chairs, even the floor was occupied. El looked around awkwardly, noticing the lack of both Quinn and Jack, who she was told went to the grocery store.

"Here," Luke smiled, scooting over slightly. She responded with a tight-lipped smile, sitting "next" to him. It was more like she was sitting on him. El could've sworn she heard Ethan snicker when she sat down.

The movie the boys at chosen was terrifying. Elwyn could normally do scary movies, but this one was getting to her. She jumped as the villain appeared on screen again. Luke wrapped his arm around her waist, giving her a squeeze.

"You okay?"

"Hm? Yeah, I'm good," she smiled politely.

Another jumpscare and Elwyn had fallen completely onto Luke's lap. She wasn't upset about it though, it was comforting in the moment. Dylan had taken notice of the position that Luke was in and elbowed Mark and Ethan. They all "discreetly" turned to look at the two, who looked rather comfortable. Elwyn jumped again, hiding her face in Luke's neck.

"This movie is terrifying," she whispered.

"It's ok, Winnie. I've got you."

It was in that moment that she realized the position she was in. Fully cuddled up on Luke's lap, one of his hands on her waist, the other on her thigh. What would Quinn think if he walked in right now? What would Jack think?

"I need to use the bathroom," she scrambled to get off of Luke.

"Oh, we can pause the movie."

"No, it's okay. I'll, uh, I'll be back."

She ran up the stairs, locking herself in Jack's ensuite. What was she doing? She couldn't let Luke get any ideas. She really liked Quinn. But oh my god, what would Jack think? Would he kick her out? Surely, he'd murder her before his brothers. They were his family, she was replaceable. Maybe she should end things with Quinn. Tell him it wasn't worth the strain it would cause on their relationships with Jack. But then again she'd already done things with him, would Jack even forgive her for that?

"Oh my god. I can't breathe," she gasped, splashing cold water on her face.

Inhale. Hold. Exhale.

Her mind was running a thousand miles an hour. She had to stop seeing Quinn. Maybe she could just avoid him. Jack was more important. She had too. The more she thought about it, the more difficult it became to breathe.

She sat down on the floor, trying her breathing exercise again.

Inhale. Hold. Exhale.

Finally she felt her heartbeat slow and her breathing return to normal. She wasn't going to let boys ruin her trip with her best friend. Nope. Plan: Avoid Quinn Hughes at All Costs, starts now!

"What did I do?" Quinn mumbled as he watched Elwyn interact with Jack. She hadn't even shot him a smile when he walked in the door from shopping, she'd gone straight to Jack. They were giggling amongst themselves while they cut up fruit for dinner.

She looked just as happy as she had this morning, but now she was pretending he didn't exist. He brushed her shoulder as he walked past her and she flinched, scooting closer to Jack.

As the night progressed, it became more obvious to the boy that she was ignoring him. She hadn't even looked his way once all night. Too busy keeping up with Jack, following him around like a lost puppy. He even tried shooting her a text, which was ultimately left on read.

Q: Hey, is everything okay? You seem off tonight.

Nothing.

It wasn't until she was closing her bedroom door to get changed that he caught a moment alone with her. She shrieked when her door opened, clutching her shirt to chest.

"Oh my god! Have you ever heard of knocking? I'm getting changed!"

"Why have you been ignoring me?"

Elwyn rolled her eyes, turning her back to him. so she could continue getting changed.

"Winnie?"

She exhaled loudly.

"Elwyn?"

"Maybe I just don't want to talk to you, Quinn."

"But- what did I do?"

"I'm trying to get ready for bed."

"El, just talk to me. Please. I thought we were getting somewhere."

She could hear the sadness and disappointment dripping from his words. It made her want to cry, knowing it was her fault he was feeling that way.

"I'd like to go to sleep now."

"El," he reached forward, grabbing her wrist and spinning her to face him. "What is going on? If I did something, I'm sorry."

"We can't, Quinn."

"Wha- we can't what?"

"We can't do this. We can't be together. Fling or not. It's not fair to Jack."

"Not fair to Jack? You shutting me out, isn't fair to me! Not everything revolves around Jack! You're an adult, he doesn't get to make decisions for you!" Quinn seethed, his face heating up.

"Don't yell at me."

"Don't yell at you?! Then don't be Jack's mindless little minion, Elwyn! Jesus fucking Christ!"

"I- I'm not," she whispered, blinking away tears.

"Yeah, well you sure fucking act like you are," he left, slamming the door behind him.

"What was that?!" she heard Jack yell.

"The wind!" Quinn lied, storming off to his room.

Elwyn couldn't hold back her tears anymore, sliding to the floor. She sobbed, covering her mouth with her hand to muffle the sound. How could he say that to her? She thought she was doing the right thing. She never imagined it could've gone that poorly.

Quinn couldn't sleep, he was too angry. Why did Elwyn let Jack dictate her life? She could be with whoever she wanted, she was a grown woman. So what if Jack was mad at them for a day? He'd get over it. If he could just get her to realize that he was there for her, no matter what happened-

A knock at the door broke him from his thoughts. Elwyn quietly opened and shut the door, sitting herself on the edge of his bed.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have ignored you. I thought I was doing what was right."

"I shouldn't have yelled at you, El. But you have to communicate with me. You can't just shut me out, especially if you want to make this work."

"But what about Jack?"

"Elwyn. He loves you. You're his best friend. He'll get over it. I promise."

"I hate lying to him."

"Keeping a secret isn't lying."

"I just-"

"Come here," he opened his arms, Elwyn climbing into the bed next to him. He kissed her slowly. He wanted to show her how much he cared about her. Loved her even. She ran a hand through his hair, giggling when he nipped at her bottom lip.

"Think we can stay quiet?" she whispered.

"Easily."

"Quinn! Wake up! The boys wanna go out on the boat! And have you seen El? Jack said she isn't in her-" Luke stopped dead in his tracks. A bare back faced him, the sheets barely covering her waist. "Holy shit."

Luke ran down the stairs, taking his place at the table.

"You okay, Rusty? Looks like you've seen a ghost," Trevor joked.

"Hm? Yep. All good. Great even."

"Okay? Did you wake up Quinn?"

"Um... yeah. Yeah. He'll be down soon."

"Did you find El? I'm getting worried," Jack mentioned, sitting next to his brother.

"I-"

"Morning!" Elwyn smiled.

"There you are! You weren't in your room, I was worried," Jack hugged her.

"Yeah, fell asleep in the basement watching TV. Was having trouble falling asleep."

"All good! Glad you're okay. Is Quinn awake up there?"

Luke watched something flicker in her eyes at the mention of Quinn.

"Yep, he's just brushing his teeth."

As if on cue, Quinn came thumping down the stiars. A smile plastered on his face. Luke felt sick. It seemed that Quinn had finally gotten his dream girl, but at the expense of both of his brothers' feelings.

"Sorry, guys. Didn't sleep well," Quinn explained, grabbing some cereal.

"That's funny. Neither did Elwyn," Luke smirked.

"Oh. Funny coincidece," El shrugged, eyes darting everywhere but at the youngest Hughes.

"Must've been something in the air last night," he continued.

El furrowed her eyebrows in confusion. What was Luke going on about? Surely he didn't know that she'd slept with Quinn last night? Quinn had assured her they'd been silent. They even put a pillow behind the headboard like teenagers hiding from their parents.

"So... boat day?" Quinn offered, feeling the growing tension in the kitchen

"Yes!" Jack cheered, "Come on, El. I'll help you with your sunscreen."

"Coming," she followed after him, shooting a concerned look at Quinn, who just shrugged in response.

"So, Quinn... anything you want to share with the class?" Luke asked.

"Um? No?"

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah?"

"Positive? Nothing you want to share about Elwyn?"

"What are you talking about?"

"Don't pretend you don't know."

"Luke, I don't know what you're implying."

"So, why was Elwyn naked in your bed this morning when I went to wake you up?"

"She wasn't," Quinn replied quickly, maybe too quickly.

"I know Elwyn when I see her, Quinn."

"Luke, I didn't sleep with Elwyn."

"You slept with Elwyn?" Jack's voice joined the conversation and suddenly you could hear a pin drop.

"I-"

"You slept with Elwyn?" Jack repeated, his voice increasing in volume.

"No, I know your rules, Jack."

"He's lying! I saw her in his bed this morning! That's why you couldn't find her!"

"Shut up, Luke!" Quinn sneered.

"No, please continue, Luke. I'd love to know what else Quinn is hiding from me."

"That's it, I think. I just saw her in his bed when I went to wake him up. Looking less than dressed."

"Jack, I don't know what he's talking about," Quinn pleaded.

"Bullshit! I-"

"Why's everyone yelling?" Elwyn's voice was soft compared to the rest of the conversation. Her nails were dug into her palms, surely leaving behind little crescent shaped indents. Worry filled her eyes.

"El..." Quinn breathed.

"Care to explain yourself, Elwyn?" Jack snapped.

"I'm confused."

"Don't act all innocent now when you were spreading your fucking legs for my brother last night!"

"I-"

"You what? Are acting like a slut?! Then yeah, you're right."

"I'm not a slut," her bottom lip quivered. Quinn was quick to get in front of her, feeling the sudden need to protect her from his brother's vicious words.

"She's not a slut, Jack. You don't control her."

Jack was at a loss for words. Quinn was right he didn't control her, but he could still be pissed at his brother.

"Fine, I don't control, Elwyn. She's a grown woman. But you, Quinn, you- you broke my rules! You took advantage of her!"

"How did I 'take at advantage of her'?" he air quoted.

"You-you..."

"You have no argument here, Jack. And you, Luke... what gives you the right to tell him? When you were trying to get with Elwyn too?"

"I'M NOT AN OBJECT!" her outburst made everyone jump, "Stop talking about me like I'm not standing right here! God! You're acting like children! Quinn, give me your car keys?"

"What? Why?"

"I'm going home."

"You're-"

"El, no. Please," Jack pleaded.

"You just called me a slut! You think I want to stay here with you? Ha! You are crazy."

"Babe, please."

"Don't 'babe' me, Quintin. Give me your keys," she demanded, reaching her hand out.

"No. You're angry. You shouldn't drive like this."

"Fine. I'll fucking walk home!" she threw her arms up, storming out the front door.

The group of boys stood around the kitchen staring at the Hughes brothers. Were they not going to go after her? Apologize? Boat day definitely wasn't happening.

It was getting dark out, Quinn and Jack were beyond worried. Jack was pacing the living room, his head snapping to the door every time there was a noise outside. Quinn was sitting on the couch with his head in his hands, sending text after text to El. No answers. Luke and their friends were in the back, drinking and pretending all was well.

"Should we go looking for her?" Jack asked.

"I think that'd just scare her off."

"But what if someone snatches her off the street? It's getting dark out. She's been gone all day, Quinn."

"She'll come back."

"Stop pretending like you know her better than I do just because you slept with her! I know my best friend."

"Jack, can we not fight right now? We have more important things to worry about."

Jack just sighed. He was worried about El, but her sleeping with Quinn was still in the background of all his thoughts.

"Can I just ask why? Like was it to rub it in my face? To get back at me for something?"

"It has nothing to do with you, Jack. It's about Elwyn. I really like El. I've liked El since we were kids. And she finally showed me that she feels the same way. I'm- I'm happy with her."

"She- you love her, don't you?"

"It's too soon to say that."

"Quinn..."

"Yeah... I do. I... I do."

"Shit. She probably hates me."

"I mean, you did slut-shame your best friend."

"Right."

"If we're giong to blame anyone for this mess though, I think we blame Luke. El and I were going to tell you. But Luke kind of jumped the gun."

"Really? You were going to tell me?"

"Yeah, I mean last night... we talked about it."

"I guess that makes me feel a bit better."

Quinn was about to apologize, but the front door creaked open. A sniffle and the sound of shoes hitting the ground made Quinn jump up.

"El?"

She just stared at them, arms crossed over her chest.

"El. I'm so sorry," Jack wrapped his arms around her, but she didn't reciprocate the hug.

"That's nice. Are you done calling me a whore?"

"I didn't mean it, El. I was mad. It was heat of the moment."

"Yeah, well, I don't fucking appreciate it."

"Do- d'you think you can forgive me?"

"Yes, Jack. I'll forgive you," she chuckled.

El finally hugged him back, pressing a kiss to his cheek. She turned her attention to Quinn, who awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck.

"Hi, El."

"Quinn."

"I'll give you guys some space," Jack shot them finger guns, walking out backwards.

"El, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make you feel like an object. You're not an object. You're... you're Elwyn. And I- I love you."

"You love me?"

"Yeah, I do. I love you."

She bit back her smile, throwing her arms around his neck.

"Can I kiss you?" he whispered.

"Of course." Their lips met in a sweet, languid kiss. "I love you too, Quinn Hughes."

And their lips met again, smiles on their faces breaking it, ending in a fit of giggles. They finally had each other.

Tags:

@h0e4fictionalme-n @toasttt11 @homestylehughes @laheyxlover @dontknowhockey

#quinn hughes #quinn hughes imagine #luke hughes #jack hughes #nhl fic #nhl imagine

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iridecsense · 2 years ago

Text

Lip Smacker - m.

⤷ summary: in which izuku, katsuki, and shouto make a bet about what flavor chapstick you wear.

word count: 4.8k pairing: tdbkdk | fem!reader warnings: none ♡ genre: crack, smut | lime author’s note: This is a COLLEGE AU, meaning all characters are aged up to 18+ consenting adults—more specifically all characters are in their 20s.

If there was one thing about you that everyone knew, it was that you were not one to shy away from PDA with anyone. And by anyone, that means anyone. It was no secret you were overly-affectionate, especially with your friends. It wasn't a bad thing, just a little jarring at times.

You were a big cuddler. It was absolutely normal to embrace one of your friends and hold them hostage on the common room couch. It was practically routine. Holding hands was another habit of yours. You hated walking to class alone, and whoever you convinced to go with you would have your hand tightly wrapped around theirs the entire time.

There were other ticks too, like how you’d sit on the nearest person’s lap even if there was space for you elsewhere, or when you essentially tackle your friends into a hug when you got too excited, which was surprisingly quite often. It’s just how you were, and your friends had long since accepted that.

There was one thing, however, that a certain group of testosterone-heavy someones couldn't wrap their heads around. As harmless and simple as it may have seemed to you, it really stirred up tensions with your guy friends. Out of all your little ticks, there was one tick you loved to do the most, and that was kiss.

It wasn’t a sexual thing. In fact it was far from it. You kissed everyone, including your girl friends. Truthfully, you kissed your girl friends more often than your guy friends, but it didn't change the fact that you kissed a lot. Like... a lot. So much so that the guys of your dorm have a bit of a competition around it.

You see, you were a very pretty girl. You were sweet and kind, and adorable, and all the things guys fawn over in a spritely young woman such as yourself. Having someone like you around the dorms was a blessing for them. A pretty girl who isn’t afraid of some platonic touching with the opposite sex? What an absolute win!

“I’m telling you guys, y/n totally wants me!” Denki burst into the common room.

“Did you take the stairs? Why are you sweating?” Mina asked, turning around on the couch to face him.

“Yeah, the elevator was too slow,” he huffed, throwing his bag on the floor and jumping onto an empty chair.

Jirou scrunched her nose. “We live on the third floor why are you sweating that much?”

“Oh my GOD, did you guys not hear what I said?” Denki groaned, changing the subject. “y/n wants me! She wants my plug in her outlet, and she wants me to stick it in and out all night long!”

The room erupted into a sea of disgusted groans. A rogue pillow found itself impacted in Denki’s face, courtesy of Mina.

“Ew, dude?!” Jirou cringed.

Kirishima shook his head disapprovingly. “Come on, man. Not cool.”

“That’s just gross,” said Sero.

“Trust me, the last thing y/n wants is any of...” Mina gestured to Denki. “that.”

“I know I am going to regret asking you this, but what happened to make you think that she wants you.” Kirishima curiously asked.

Denki smiled and excitedly made his way to sit on the open seat between Mina and Kirishima.

“I was walking back from class, right? And I saw y/n walking to class on her own. So, I ran up and offered to walk with her there. She smiles all big, bats her eyes and goes ‘Oh Denki, thank you so much! I’m so happy you’re here! Why don’t you just take me already, oh-hoo-hoo-hoo~!’”

Jirou rolled her eyes. “She did not say that.”

“She might as well have!” He countered rather defensively. “Anyway, she takes my hand and––dude, she’s so close to me I can smell her shampoo—she's brushing against my arm, laughing at all my jokes; and when we get to the science building she’s all big-eyes and pouty lips, ‘Thank’s again Denki, you are such a good friend,’ and then, boom! She lays one on me, right here!” He points to his left cheek where there was a faint pink glossy mark.

“Oh, so like, what she’s like with literally everyone else,” Sero bleats.

“Nah man, you weren't there, you didn’t see the way she looked at me! Those were fuck me eyes, I’m telling you.”

Jirou suddenly stood from her seat in the lounge chair. “Seriously, guys? If you’re gonna keep talking about y/n like that, I’m leaving. You guys are gross. Animals.”

“Yeah, I’m out too.” Mina followed Jirou to their room leaving the boys to themselves.

“I don’t know what they’re so mad about. They get to room with her. If I got to share a room with y/n I'd be the happiest man on earth,” Denki swoons.

“Yeah because you’d be the last man on earth, dipshit,” Sero snickers, causing the others to laugh.

Denki’s cheeks turn red. “Whatever! You guys are just jealous because y/n likes me the most.”

“What, because she kissed you once on the cheek? Please, she’s kissed me at least three times,” Sero not-so-humbly brags.

Denki shoots up from his seat. “No way!”

“Yeah, and even then, it’s obvious who her favorites are, and—newsflash—it's not you or me.”

Just as Sero was picking apart the last bricks of hope Denki had left, the elevator dinged, revealing the other occupants of the floor.

Kirishima smiled. “Sero’s right. Your little science building peck ain’t got nothing on whatever the fuck those three got going on with her.” He gestured to the three boys who leisurely walked in.

“What are you guys talking about?” Izuku asked as he stepped from the elevator with Katsuki and Shouto following behind.

“We were just trying to see which one of us is y/n kisses the most to figure out who her favorite among the guys is,” Sero answered.

Katsuki sucked his teeth, his already permanent frown deepening. “Do you idiots really have nothing better to talk about?”

“It’s easy for you to not care when she’s all over you 24/7,” Denki pouts. “‘Katsuki can you open this for me please? Katsuki can you walk with me to psych? Katsuki can I lay on your lap while you play overwatch?’” Denki offensively mimics the sound of your voice.

The common room erupted into snickers, turning the hot-headed blond’s neck red. “Watch it, dumbass,” he warns.

“Well, if you’re really that curious, I believe it's me,” said Shouto confidently, earning everyones attention.

Katsuki’s brow twitched. “Oh, yeah? What makes you think that Icy-hot?”

“I can think of many occasions when y/n has kissed me and most of them were on the mouth. I think that would make me the favorite,” he stated as if it were fact.

It was this revelation that captured the attention of everyone in the room with great surprise.

“You’ve kissed y/n on the mouth multiple times?” Sero gawked.

“She kissed me,” he clarified cooly.

“No way Shouto kissed y/n on the mouth before me!” Cried Denki dramatically, causing Shoji to comfort him. “That sneaky bastard preyed on our sweet, innocent girl and took advantage of her!”

“I told you, she kissed me,” Shouto reiterated once more, becoming increasingly irritated.

Kirishima gave a heavy-handed pat to his back. “Congratulations, dude! I didn’t know you had it in you,” he smiled encouragingly.

Katsuki scoffed and crossed his arms. “So what? y/n’s kissed me on the lips too, and some of them weren't just innocent pecks neither.”

A strangled cry muffled by Shoji’s chest escaped Denki’s lips.

“Guys should we really be talking about this?” Izuku shifted nervously.

“Don’t go acting all high and mighty, Deku!” Yelled Katsuki. “I saw you and y/n kissing at the culture festival last month!”

“Stalk much?” Sero muttered snarkily under his breath. Izuku’s cheeks went red and a coy smile spread across his lips. “Well...”

Denki broke free from Shoji��s strong arms and rushed towards Izuku, taking him by the collar. His reddened cheeks were stained with tears and nostrils flared. “Is this true Midoriya? Please, tell me it isn't true!”

“It is,” Izuku admitted, completely flustered and somewhat scared of his passionate, but clearly deranged friend.

Denki fell to his knees. “You have to tell me what it was like! Was there tongue? How soft were her lips? What did she taste like? Tell me, I need to know!”

“This is getting sad,” Kirishima frowned, genuinely concerned, and Sero nodded in agreement.

“I-I don’t know,” Izuku stuttered. “It was nice, I guess...” His mind went back to the day she kissed him at the festival by the taiyaki booth, and all the other times she’d placed her lips on his. He smiled softly. “Her chapstick tastes like watermelon.”

Denki smiled. “Watermelon,” he hummed. “Why didn't I think of that, that’s perfect for her! Fresh and sweet, just like her!”

“It’s not watermelon, idiot,” Katsuki spoke up. “It’s vanilla. It's always been vanilla.”

Izuku furrowed his brows. “Vanilla?”

“Now that I think about it vanilla does suit her style better,” Denki muttered to himself. “I think Bakugou might be right on this one!”

“No, I’m pretty sure it’s watermelon,” Izuku asserted.

“Strawberry.”

Everyone turned to Shouto, who all of the sudden looked very serious. “Her chapstick is strawberry flavored.”

The three boys locked eyes in an intense stare-off. Kirishima and Sero shared a look and identical smirks, hatching the same idea.

“Why don’t we make this interesting,” Sero cut in, his mischievous grin glinting. “Why don't we make it a bet? Watermelon vs. Vanilla vs. Strawberry. Whoever is right can claim that they’ve kissed y/n the most, and therefore is her favorite.”

“I’ll take that bet,” says Izuku confidently.

Katsuki scoffed. “You seem pretty confident for a jackass that’s about to lose!”

“The same could be said about you too, Bakugou” Shouto quipped, poking the blond’s already short-temper.

While the three fought, the rest of the boys that still littered the room placed their educated bets, spreading the word to the others in a group chat. Soon all of class 1-A and some of class 1-B had placed their bets on what flavor chapstick you wore.

All of this, of course, was unbeknownst to you as you were conveniently left out of the betting chat, along with Mina and Jirou as were your closest friends and would undoubtedly blab to you about the whole thing. You had to be kept in the dark, which made the events of the following week rather...interesting.

It started the next day, after bets had been placed and the tension between Shouto, Katsuki, and Izuku manifested in their sudden desperate efforts to cater to your every need. You didn't suspect anything at first. You’d just assumed that the boys were being kind.

You woke up early, two hours earlier than when you needed to be up in preparation for your first class. It was sunrise and despite you still being tired, you couldn't fall back asleep no matter how hard you tried. Giving up, you slipped from your bed and into your robe and slippers. Groggily, you made your way to the kitchen to make yourself a mug of coffee to sip on while you watched TV in the common room until you decided to start your day.

It was there that you ran into Shouto, standing in his pajamas over a hot stove cooking a fried egg. His back was turned to you and you debated announcing your presence. However, you should have known the son of the number one hero was always incredibly keen on his surroundings.

“Would you like some?” His question hung in the air, waiting for you to catch it.

“You don’t have to,” you sputter, suddenly flustered. “It looks like you’re almost done. I was just getting some coffee.” You said as you stood at the kitchen island.

Without saying a word, he grabbed the bowl full of fried rice at his side and slid the fried egg on top, drizzling a demi-glace sauce on top before turning around and placing it in front of you. He took your mug from your hands and replaced it with a spoon. You watched him, almost starry-eyed, as he placed your mug under the coffee machine and pressed the button to make it brew with coffee. He said nothing, and made himself another bowl.

You smiled softly and took a seat on a stool at the island, deciding to watch him cook instead of another episode of Too Hot To Handle.

“Thank you, Shouto,” you said as you scooped a spoon full of rice into your mouth. You hummed in delight.

Shouto’s lips twitched into a barely-noticeable smile, not that you could notice it with his back facing you. “Do you like it?” He asked.

“I love it!” You praise. “I didn’t know you could cook so well!”

Shouto did the same as he did before, taking his bowl of fried rice and covering it with a hot egg and demi-glace sauce. He found himself a spoon and walked over to the coffee machine, which had filled your mug with hot, black coffee. He grabbed it too, and came over to take a seat at your side. Reaching his long arms to the center of the isle he brought closer the sugar and creamer for your brew. You thanked him again.

“My sister Fuyumi is the better cook,” he told you. “She taught me how to make a few things for myself while I am away at university. Quick, simple meals, like rice and ramen. Nothing special.”

“Thank goodness for your sister then,” you said. “Maybe I should wake up this early everyday so I can steal more of your delicious breakfast, simple or not.”

You giggled to yourself and took another bite. Shouto watched you from the corner of his eye. He’d never seen you like this, in the morning with a fresh face and your hair tied back, dressed in your pajamas and a robe that hung loosely off one shoulder.

It is in moments like these, when Shouto finds himself alone with you that he is reminded of your magnetic attraction. Even he could not resist it, the thing about you that cast a spell upon all those you meet, rendering them your adoring subjects. He ate silently beside you, only occasionally engaging in small talk when you incited it. When you had finished, he reached for your empty bowl, prepared to clear it for you, but your hand gripped his wrist. You stood from your stool.

“The least I can do is clean the dishes. You should go. I know you’re only up this early to train before class.”

Though it was your hand that encased his left wrist, it was he that felt burnt by your touch. You took the bowl from his hand and collected his from the isle counter to wash, but not before you stood on the tips of your toes to plant a soft peck to his lips on your way to the sink. It was sweet, innocent even, perhaps only lingering a half-a-second longer than it should’ve. But unlike the many previous kisses you’ve shared before, he licked his lips and could not help the smirk that appeared in response to the taste of candied strawberries that lingered on his tongue.

“I was right,” he muttered to himself.

You raised an eyebrow. “Right about what?”

Shouto cleared his throat, his cheeks tinted pink. You’d never seen him do that before.

“I mean, you were right,” he corrected himself. “I should go. I’ll see you later, y/n.”

You nodded your head. “Oh, alright. See you later!” You called after him as he left to return to his room.

The rest of the day went on rather normally. You had gotten ready and got to class on time (something that was rare) feeling particularly spritely and energized. You assumed it had something to do with having an actual breakfast instead of a singular mug of coffee. You reminded yourself to thank him properly the next time you saw him.

Around lunchtime was when you encountered Katsuki. You had just gotten yourself lunch from one of the dining halls to eat at one of your favorite spots outside. It was a particularly nice day, especially for the dead of winter, so you decided to not let it go to waste. On your way there you saw a familiar mess of blond hair ahead of you.

“Katsuki!” You yelled excitedly, quickening your pace to catch up to him.

His shoulders tensed and he stopped in his tracks, craning his neck to look behind him and expected to find someone annoying headed his way. He relaxed only a little when he saw it was you. Still someone annoying, but a lot less annoying than all of the people he knew. Once you reached him you gave a bright grin. The sun shone down on you, igniting the highlights of your hair and the color in your eyes, imitating an almost heavenly glow; the kind that even he couldn't deny made you look perfect. It was one of the many things about you that pissed him off.

“Where ya goin’?” You asked in an almost sing-song voice.

“Back to the room to take a nap, why?” He grumbled.

You held up your plastic bag of food. “Want to have lunch with me? I have extra.”

“No.” He said simply and began walking towards the dorm.

You pouted, a small whine came from your chest and you chased after him. “Please, Katsuki?” You begged. “I don’t want to eat alone today. Besides, who else is going to help me eat all this spicy pork curry?”

He sighed, once again stopping his journey to his comfortable bed that had been calling his name since his 8 AM class. You smiled triumphantly, knowing you had won. He looked down at your heavy plastic bag full of what he now knows is spicy pork curry and other side dishes. Sucking his teeth he grabbed the food from your hand. “You’re lucky I’m fucking starving. Why buy so much if you weren't going to eat all of it?”

He nagged you all the way to the campus arboretum, where you had a special place among the grass and trees you liked to sit and eat at. He was only giving you a hard time because it kept him from thinking about how pretty you looked in your dress, or how cute you had sounded begging him to come eat with you. He didn't want to think about how your arm often bumped his because you had an awkward, lop-sided gait, or about the smell of your perfume. All he wanted to do was get to your picnic spot and eat. So he did.

The two of you ate together on a blanket you had brought. You’d gotten on the topic of final exams which turned into a shit-talking fest about who you both felt in your class would pass and who would fail. He found it very easy to talk to you and you never made him feel bad about the things he said, unlike most people who spend most of their energy scolding him instead of just talking. Not you though. You always let him talk.

It was when he said something that made you laugh that you accidentally spilled your soda on your dress. You cursed and fumbled for napkins to dab it clean, but the stain was evident.

“Dammit!” You groaned. “I have class in fifteen minutes I don't have time to change.”

You were so busy cleaning your mess, it wasn't until you felt the weight of Katsuki’s thick hoodie plop over your head that you knew he had even taken it off. You snorted a chuckle and pulled your head threw the neck hole to see him left in his black compression shirt.

“Take it dumbass,” he told you.

“You won’t be cold?” You asked.

“I’m done for the day. Just bring it to my room later.” He said.

You smiled and pushed your arms through the sleeves, pulling the oversized hoodie over you to cover the stain. It was...toasty, you think is the correct word, and it smelled like his cologne. You closed your eyes and held the fabric to your nose, inhaling his scent deeply. Katsuki furrowed his brows as he watched you.

“It smells so good!” You practically moan. “And it’s so warm. It’s like I’m getting the best hug in the world. A Kaachan hug!” You teased, snickering to yourself.

Katsuki’s face grew hot, and he pinched your cheek, tugging with his fingers, making you yelp and whine from the minuscule pain. “Who told you to call me that, huh? Can’t you just say thank you like a normal person? I can take my hoodie back and let you walk around with a shitty stain on your dress.”

Your hand gripped his arm, attempting to pry him off. “Okay, okay!” You yell, half laughing, half hissing in pain. “I’m sorry! Thank you!”

Satisfied he let your cheek go, and you soothed the spot by rubbing it in circles with your hand. You pouted while he cleaned the blanket of your mess and threw the trash away while you folded it back up. He decided to walk you to class since he had nothing better to do and he knew you wanted him to (certainly not because he wanted to). When you made it to the entrance of your building you stopped and turned towards him.

“Thanks for walking me and for the hoodie,” you smiled. “I’ll see you back in the dorms.”

You started to turn around when you felt his hand wrap around your arm, keeping you in place. Confused, you stood still. You might have been imagining things, but from where you stood, it looked as though his cheeks were flushed red.

“What’s wrong, Katsuki?” You asked, concerned.

“Don’t I...get a kiss?” He couldn't believe what he was saying.

“A kiss?” You repeated, also not believing what he was saying.

“As a thank you,” he explained.

Your lips twitched into a teasing smile. “I thought you didn't like it when I did that in public.”

“When has that ever stopped you before!” He countered, his cheeks growing redder.

You laughed and took a step closer, closing the gap between you. You craned your neck up to place a chaste kiss on the corner of his lips. Unsatisfied, Katsuki sucked his teeth and reached his hand up to your chin, turning your head in a position for him to press his lips against yours, and kissed you. It was unexpected, but after a few seconds, the shock drifted away, and you closed your eyes, returning the kiss. It was longer than the kiss you shared with Shouto earlier that day, but not by much; and once it was over, he licked his lips.

‘Vanilla...’ He thought as he pulled away.

His hand fell from your chin and he sighed. “Hurry before you’re late,” was all he said before turning around and walking back towards the dorm, leaving you in a post-kiss daze.

You made it to your class, albeit, late because your mind kept trying to make sense of the kiss that you’d accidentally passed the door to your classroom...twice. Of course, you had kissed Katsuki before. Kissing him on the lips wasn't necessarily a rare occurrence either. But never had he incited a kiss on his own—and in public? Well, that wasn't even in the realm of possibility before. No matter how many times you tried to convince yourself it wasn't strange, you couldn't help but feel suspicious.

As you dissociated from your lecture your brain kept replaying the kiss, searching for a reason to why the kiss felt different. No, it didn't feel different. It felt strange. But it only felt strange because something about it felt familiar. It shouldn't have felt familiar. If a guy initiates a kiss with you for the first time it shouldn't feel familiar. Why did it feel familiar?

And then it hit you. He licked his lips.

He licked his lips!

Your brain switched to your kiss with Shouto earlier in the day. After you kissed him he had licked his lips too. You thought it was weird then, but didn't think twice about it. Now you were thinking twice.

‘I’m just being crazy,’ you thought.

In what way could the kisses be related? What? Because they both happened to lick their lips afterwards? So what? That didn’t mean anything. It meant nothing. You were sure of it...

Almost.

You shook the thoughts from your head, refocusing your attention back to your professor at the front of the room. After class, you made your way back to the dorms to get started on your studies while Mina and Jiro were out. The sun had long since set, and you were two hours deep in frustration preparing for your Hero Physics midterm when a knock came from the door.

You welcomed the distraction, considering you were about to re-read the same question for the fifth time with no progress of understanding it anytime soon, and if you read it again without a miraculous conclusion, you were going to bash your brains in with your laptop.

Needless to say, when you opened the door to see Izuku standing in the hall, you welcomed him with open arms.

“Hey!” You smiled.

Izuku looked you up and down. You were still wearing Katsuki’s hoodie, but you had switched out your dress for pajama pants and fuzzy socks. It was subtle, practically unnoticeable, but the slightest crease formed in-between his eyebrows when he noticed.

“Is that Kaachan’s hoodie?” He asked.

You looked down at your torso, as if you had forgotten you were wearing anything at all. “Oh, yeah,” you said. “I spilled soda all over my dress earlier while I was with him and he let me borrow it. Honestly, I’m thinking about keeping it at this point. I was supposed to return it as soon as I got back but it’s freezing in here because the thermostat is stuck at sixty-nine degrees and this hoodie is so much warmer than any of mine.”

“You should really call maintenance to fix that.” He brushed past you, entering your room and plopping his backpack on the floor by your desk. You closed the door behind him and crossed your arms.

“What's this?” He asked, picking up your notebook.

“My suicide note.”

Izuku chuckled, looking over your notes and at the assignment on your computer. “I took Hero Physics last semester,” he told you. “I can help you if you want.”

“If you want to dedicate your time to a hopeless cause, be my guest.”

And he did. He took a seat next to you at your desk and spent the next hour tutoring you on Hero Physics by walking you through questions like ‘Find the velocity of this speed-type hero’ and what-not. Surprisingly, it wasn't long into your session that you began to understand the words on your screen. You didn't suddenly become Einstein or anything, but at some point you started to work your way through them on your own with few mistakes. The assignment you had spent two hours slowly killing yourself over was completed in one with the help of your freckled friend.

“I think you’re aiming for the wrong profession, Izuku,” you tell him. “Schools need more teachers.”

“Then schools should pay them more.”

You tried to snort back your laughter, ultimately failing, causing Izuku to laugh along with you.

“Want a drink?” You asked, standing to your feet.

“Sure.” He nodded. You left him at your desk and came back with two Arizona teas from your mini fridge to share with him.

“You never mentioned why you stopped by unannounced,” you said as you took a sip. “Not that you’re ever unwelcome.”

“Oh,” he smiled. “I guess I just wanted to see you.”

You looked down at your hands wrapped around the can, unable to meet his eyes. Izuku always managed to make you blush. You weren't sure if he meant to or not. Either way, he was completely oblivious to the effect he had on you.

“Well thank you. It’s always nice to see you.”

Similarly, Izuku blushed as well, his cheeks turning pale red. His eyes shifted to the clock on your desk. “I should probably go,” he said, not really wanting to go. “It’s getting late.”

“Oh, right.” You both stood to your feet and Izuku gathered his things. You walked him to the door, leisurely leaning against the doorframe as he exited into the hall. “Think you can keep tutoring me?”

Izuku turned around.

“I still need to pass finals,” you said.

He nodded. “Then I'll make sure you pass finals.”

Grinning, you closed the space between you, mindlessly reaching to place a kiss on his cheek when you were reminded of the other kisses you'd shared with Shouto and Katsuki. A thought in the back of your mind spurred from your suspicions—a thought that quickly turned into an idea. At the last second, you acted on your impulse to b-line for his lips, catching you both off guard. You stuck with it, pressing your lips against his harder than you intended. The action stunned him, but it didn't take him longer than a second to embrace it.

It was just a kiss. Not unlike the many kisses you often shared with the others. Not unlike the kisses you've given him before. It was just a simple peck...until it wasn't.

You pulled away, prepared to give him your thanks for helping you with your studies. But, you never got the chance. Your words were silenced by his lips chasing after yours. Your breath hitched in your throat as your back pressed against the door frame. His hands cupped your cheeks and your lips moved in sync, his tongue daring to swipe across your lips. In the heat of the moment, your mouth nearly opened for him, but he pulled away just as your lips began to part, and you opened your eyes to meet dark green irises peering down at your flushen face.

Your eyes flickered down to his pink lips, now reddened and somewhat swollen. You watched in disbelief as—just like the others—he, too, licked his lips.

“Watermelon,” he said lowly. Your chest heaved, your words escaping you. Izuku stepped back, his usual sickeningly sweet smile staring back at you as if nothing happened.

“We should split some watermelon,” he said. “The next time we study together. That’s my asking rate.”

You nodded hazily. “Okay.”

With that, he said goodbye and left you standing in the doorway to your room dumbfounded.

Yeah.

Something definitely was up.

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