#i look like i haven't washed my hair in a month and it's giving me dandruff

[aniesvision]

𝟑𝟎- 𝑩𝒆𝒕𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝒃𝒐𝒚𝒇𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒏𝒅

𐂂 𝙲𝚑𝚛𝚒𝚜 𝚂𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚘𝚕𝚘 𝚡 𝙼𝚊𝚝𝚝'𝚜 𝚎𝚡 𝚐𝚏

𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜: 𝒎𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒔 𝒐𝒇 𝒃𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒌𝒖𝒑, 𝒂𝒏𝒈𝒔𝒕, 𝒕𝒐𝒙𝒊𝒄!𝒎𝒂𝒕𝒕, 𝒅𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒌𝒊𝒏𝒈, 𝒇𝒍𝒊𝒓𝒕𝒚 𝒄𝒉𝒓𝒊𝒔 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓, 𝒌𝒊𝒔𝒔𝒊𝒏𝒈, 𝒉𝒂𝒑𝒑𝒚 𝒆𝒏𝒅𝒊𝒏𝒈, 𝒎𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕 𝒉𝒂𝒗𝒆 𝒎𝒐𝒓𝒆 𝒊𝒅𝒌

𝚊/𝚗: 𝒊𝒏𝒔𝒑𝒊𝒓𝒆𝒅 𝒃𝒚 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒔𝒐𝒏𝒈 𝑩𝒐𝒚𝒇𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒏𝒅-𝑫𝒐𝒗𝒆 𝑪𝒂𝒎𝒆𝒓𝒐𝒏. 𝒆𝒏𝒈𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒉 𝒊𝒔 𝒏𝒐𝒕 𝒎𝒚 𝒇𝒊𝒓𝒔𝒕 𝒍𝒂𝒏𝒈𝒖𝒂𝒈𝒆, 𝒆𝒏𝒋𝒐𝒚 ☕︎

𝚜𝚞𝚖𝚖𝚊𝚛𝚢: 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒎𝒆𝒆𝒕 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒆𝒙-𝒃𝒐𝒚𝒇𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒏𝒅'𝒔 𝒃𝒓𝒐𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒔 𝒂𝒕 𝒂 𝒑𝒂𝒓𝒕𝒚

Matt and I had a complicated relationship. We became friends, weeks later he confessed to having feelings and I said I felt the same. We started dating and it lasted exactly eight months until he broke up with me with the excuse "I don't know how to say this, but I don't think I'm ready for a real relationship." He wasn't ready. After 8 months. For a real relationship. So what we had was a lie?

As much as I wanted to punch his face, take his clothes that were with me and set them on fire, expose how much of a terrible person he was, I couldn't. I only managed to isolate myself, and with that, I had to, unfortunately, isolate Nick and Chris from my life as well, after all, they were always together.

It was my first time away from home since Matt and I broke up. It took me two months to work up the courage to get out of bed, get ready, and not cry looking at the mirror. As if my voluntary action of going out wasn't enough, my two college friends found a party at someone's house. They convinced me to go after telling me I would be free to have as many drinks as I wanted. I haven't drunk since I became friends with Matthew, which was a long time ago, so I really needed a drink.

I decided to go, after all, I had already spent so much time lying in tears that feeling like a hottie was all I needed. I rummaged through my wardrobe and found a black dress that made me smile just imagining myself wearing it. I ran to take my shower and wash my hair, deciding to let it dry naturally, and went to do my makeup. I wore the dress, feeling beautiful when I saw my reflection in the mirror. I smiled and put on my white sneakers, completing my look with some accessories.

I took some photos, posted one of them in my story, and ordered an Uber to the address of the house since I intended to drink and did not want to cause an accident if I went by car.

-Hey, you came! - I hear a familiar voice and turn around with a smile.

-Yeah, I wanted to see you guys. -I answer.

With a quick hug at Anna and Lilly, my college friends, I follow them into the party. It was very crowded there and I didn't know how comfortable I could be in that environment. Lilly gave me a shot of tequila and I took it, feeling the taste of alcohol rip through my throat. We found a little space on the couch and threw ourselves in there, talking about random things until I felt my phone vibrate and went to see what it was.

Nick💜

Hi

I don't know if I could say that, but I miss you

I saw you on the couch and wanted to talk to you

Matt didn't come, just me and Chris, if that comforts you in some way

We'll be around, and it would be great to say hi, I still think that you're one of my best friends even if we're not talking anymore

I miss you so much

I read the texts with my heart beating fast, surprised he had reached out, I didn't even know they'd be here.

Nick was always the best friend I could have, Chris was also so important to me. When my relationship with Matt ended and I isolated myself from everything, I didn't give them any chance to contact me, and that made these last two months a mystery of how it could have been for them.

I don't know how that affected Matthew. Or if it affected him in any way. I don't know if he thought about it, if he talked to his brothers, or with friends, if he met new people, if he moved on, if he still thinks about me.

If he wanted to, he would've found a way to fight for me, but he just let me go. It wasn't Nick's or Chris' fault, and it was irresponsible of me to put them in this situation just because I couldn't reason it out sooner and make a less exclusive decision.

Me

Hi Nick, I'm sorry, that's all my fault.

I love you, I love Chris, I shouldn't have pushed you guys away

I'd love to talk, can we meet in the backyard? :)

I waited anxiously for an answer. I told Anna and Lilly I'd be back soon and they just nodded, happy to see I was trying to socialize a bit.

I carefully get up and straighten my dress before walking to the sliding door that leads out to a comfortable garden, with most of the floor being grass, a pool with blue lights on, a few people swimming, and a few benches near the walls. I sat on an empty bench and felt my phone buzz once again. Anxious, I unlock the screen and open the notification.

Nick💜

we're going :)

A smile of relief appeared on my face, but as I remembered the amount of time we spent without talking to each other and all because of me, I began to feel nervous. Did they really still like me? We could still be friends, right? It would be fine even if Matt couldn't be present in the same room as me.

I feel a hand on my shoulder and snap out of my thoughts, lifting my face and meeting Nick's eyes. I get up quickly, hugging him so tightly that I could've broken one of his bones. He runs his hands on my back, only separating us to look at me up and down.

-We have so much to talk about. But first: you look stunning, girl! I loved the dress.

I giggle, feeling my heart beat fast. I was happy that Nick complimented me, he always did it, it gave me a good nostalgia that I still don't know how to deal with it.

-You look amazing, as always. -I reply, earning a huge smile in response.

-Hey, I don't know if you two get it, but I'm still here, you know? -I hear another voice and turn back to face Chris.

I smiled slightly before pulling him into a tight hug as well, to which he returned without even complaining about the force.

-I missed you. -He says, low, in my ear, still hugging me.

-I missed you, too. A lot. -I say, undoing the hug to look him in the eye.

His hair looked longer, the beard had not been done recently, he wore black pants, an orange sweatshirt and a backward hat. Chris wrapped his arm around my shoulders and we sat down on the bench I was on.

We all talked about everything that had happened since my breakup until now. While we were talking, Anna and Lilly showed up and said hi to the boys, as well as leaving a drink and another shot for me in my hands.

-Have fun! -Anna screams before being pulled by Lilly, making me laugh.

-You're drinking? -Nick asks, cautiously.

I knew they didn't like to drink, but they had no problem with friends doing it. I never normally drank. It was rare and when it happened it was just a glass or two, but now I had another idea in my head, especially because it was the first time I was out of my apartment in two months.

-I think tonight is a good night to drink.

I raise the shot with a smirk, showing it to Nick and Chris before chugging it and grimacing at the taste.

-Let's take some photos together. -I suggest, setting the shot glass down on a nearby table and taking my phone out of my pocket.

We took a few selfies and I posted one of them on my Instagram story, tagging the boys.

-So... Why didn't he come? -I was holding myself back from commenting on it, but of course I felt more curious than sad about it. Nick looked at me when I asked, but seeing that I didn't exactly look sad he decided to answer.

-He went out with other friends. -The answer was vague, but I already knew what it meant.

It wasn't just other friends, but okay, that's what I was thinking anyway.

I give him a soft smile in response, not wanting to get into the depth of the subject, and take a few sips of the drink I had received from my friends.

-Let's dance. -I say, getting up when I hear a song I liked and the boys soon follow me.

While moving my body and talking to both of them, I slowly finished my drink and ended up losing the glass at some point, but it didn't matter, I didn't intend to drink more than that.

I was having fun, I missed seeing my friends, I missed dancing, I missed feeling good. And as useless as a party seems to be, the uselessness seemed to be exactly what I needed.

-I'll get some water. -I hear Nick speak in my ear and I nod my head.

I feel my phone vibrate once again and unlock it, seeing that it was a response to my Instagram story. I only had notifications turned on for friends and people I knew, but upon reading the name on my screen my reaction must have changed in the same second.

Matt

That's why Nick's not answering me...

You look beautiful btw

I miss your pretty face

Before I had a chance to respond, I felt a hand on my hip and my phone was taken from my hand. I look at Chris, who smiles as he puts my phone in his pants pocket.

-He may be my brother, but this is a dick move and I will not let you answer. -He says, moving closer and placing both hands on my waist.

I roll my eyes with a little smile and wrap my arms around his neck, knowing he was more than right and I shouldn't pay any attention to Matt now. And besides, why would I care about someone who broke up with me without a good explanation if I had a guy as handsome as Chris around?

Maybe it was the alcohol talking.

-How are you feeling? -He asks, looking at me carefully.

-I don't know, I'm not as bad as I could be, I already felt too sad because of him. I'm actually glad to be here, and I'm glad to see you again. -I answer, allowing myself to take a step forward.

He didn't back down. Where's Nick with his water to try to put some sense in my head? I see a smirk on Chris's face with my words and immediately my focus goes to his mouth. Part of me knew that was wrong, but now that part was way too far.

-I'm glad to see you again, too. And to be honest, I think I'd be a much better boyfriend than him.

His eyes scanned my entire face, stopping to stare at my mouth with a smile that I swore could give me a heart attack at any moment.

-To be honest, I think so too. -My voice comes out a little lower than it should, but high enough that he could hear me even with the sound of the songs.

He lifts one of his hands up to my face and quickly presses his lips against mine. It wasn't long before he deepened it and I felt his tongue on mine, sending shivers down my spine. We kissed for a while until we were interrupted by a nearby scream.

-WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU GUYS DOING? -Nick was standing in front of us, mouth open in shock.

Chris just rolls his eyes and I step back, realizing what I had done and feeling a little embarrassed with some people around staring at us. With no response, Nick pulls us out of the party, to a part of the street where the music wasn't so loud.

-Are you guys crazy? He's your ex's brother, you're her ex's brother. Brother. Ex. -Nick says, pointing at me and Chris.

-Dude, relax, Matt may be my brother, but he was a complete asshole to her. Did you know he texted her? She deserves more than that. -Chris answers, making Nick look at us with an expression of disgust and confusion.

-What did he say? -He asks.

I look at Chris, remembering that he had my phone and he soon pulls it out of his pocket, handing it to me to unlock. I show Nick Matt's message, and hear the heavy sigh of the boy in front of me, handing me back my phone. We spent a few seconds in silence until Nick looked at Chris, then at me, and back at his brother.

-Be better. -He says, making the younger one look confused. -Better than Matthew, we'll talk to him later, but if you think you can be better for her, be it.

Chris smiles, looking at me and passing his arm around me.

-I will be. -He answers. Nick loses his seriousness, throwing us a weak smile.

We decided to split an Uber to get back, leaving my address as the first stop. We were talking along the way and when we arrived at my building I said goodbye to both of them with a hug and made my way to my apartment, taking out my phone and seeing the notifications I had received in the meantime.

Matthew Sturniolo

You're joking.

My brother? Seriously? You know he'll never be like me, he'll never make you feel good as I did

Me

Yeah, you're right. He'll never be like you, that's what makes him so much better than you already

Leave me alone, Matt

I sigh, forcing myself to take a shower and rest. Although I was stressed, I didn't feel bad for what I did, much less for seeing that it made Matthew so angry and deep down seeing that he finally felt something because of me was gratifying.

Me and Nick went back to talking to each other every day, as it was before. Chris and I hung out together every weekend for over a month straight and I couldn't get enough of being with him for even a second. We used to get along before everything, but now it was different, and honestly, it was better.

Matt never texted me again. He still saw everything I posted, knew I was with his brothers most of the time, and knew he should take a step back and rethink what he did. It took longer than it should have, but he understood that he did me wrong and that I was fine with someone else, even if that person was in fact his brother.

I didn't get an apology, despite all that. Matt and I saw each other once after all, it was the first time I saw him after breaking up and the first and only time since Chris and I decided to be exclusive and have something serious. It was awkward, and a little quiet, but no fighting, which was enough for me.

Since that party, things have been going well. I felt happy, not only for being with someone new, but for moving on and living my life again.

𝒕𝒂𝒈𝒔 ✍︎

➪ @riowritesitall @sturniolosarethebest @hyacinthst @deers4luv @sturncakez @watercolorskyy @delooshunalhoe @sarosfilms @blahbel668 @sturniyolo69 @sturniolosl0t @colbsposts00 @fallingforfalll2 @stvrnmc @faithlia @katie-tibo @monroesturnns @mattnchrisworld @shaquilles-0atmeal @fratbrochrisgf @dayzeandhaze @phimstarz @h3arts4harry @star-yawnznn @asherrisrandom @pip4444chris @sturniolo-fann @beansprout713 @conspiracy-ash @sturnsxbitvh @ivysturnss @mattsbitchh @larallott

[h0ney8ee]

since my sister does hair sometimes she gets fancy hair products for free and tell me why i've been using a $94 shampoo and it's the worst my hair has ever felt and looked in my life

[ylangelegy]

is it casual now? (teaser) 🫀 seungcheol x reader.

★ seungcheol x makeup artist!f!reader. ★ teaser word count: ~8,000 ★ genre/warnings: mdni. 18+ content. situationship/friends with benefits, light angst, use of pet name ('love'). soft dom!seungcheol, making out, biting/marking, protected sex. let me know if i missed anything! ★ footnotes: this has been on my backburner for months. it's admittedly a full-blown story in need of hard editing, and so i'm posting this in hopes of bullying myself into working on the whole thing. should it come down to it, though, i like to think this can stand on its own. enjoy. <3

Seungcheol has been in the industry long enough to know that everybody had vices.

Trainees, rookies, veterans. It didn't matter. There were dangerous, risky vices. Alcohol, drugs, smoking. There was dating, too, of course. Dating fans, dating fellow idols.

Seungcheol didn't do drugs. He smoked socially, but he would rather not. And he drank, sure, but never to an unhealthy amount. Dating, however—

Did it really count when there was only really ever one person he treated like a vice?

You've been in his life since the group debuted. Nine years, give or take. And then, at one point, he just... tried something with you. And it clicked, fell into place, and now you've been sneaking around for the better half of three years. It's the one place Seungcheol feels like he can breathe, can get away. But it's also the biggest secret he's kept.

You're his makeup artist, after all.

When the two of you started off, you both insisted on nothing serious. To 'keep it casual'.

That worked perfectly for Seungcheol. He likes to think it's still working for him, as he raps at the door of your apartment and waits for you to open up. His wristwatch says that it's midnight, but it doesn't matter. He knocks a little louder, growing a touch impatient.

You open the door, and you're greeted with Seungcheol looking reproachful. "Yah," he chides. "Why haven't you been answering my texts?"

When you rub your eyes with the back of your hands and look over your shoulder to glimpse at your wall clock, Seungcheol almost feels apologetic. Almost. “Cheol,” you say exasperatedly, slowly. “It’s the middle of the night.” 

"So you were sleeping then, hmm?" Seungcheol says. The corner of his lips tilt up, just slightly. He leans against the doorframe, taking a brief amount of time to glance you over. As he does, a small wave of tiredness finally washes over him— just how late had he kept himself up working on new music? "I sent you texts hours ago."

"You didn't even read them." He reaches up, tucks a loose strand of hair behind your ear. He sighs, the sound almost exaggerated. "How cruel of you."

You let out a low hum at Seungcheol’s fingers brushing against your skin. “Mmm, I fell asleep with my phone in my hand,” you admit, the words coming out more like a soft sigh than anything else.

You seem to finally drag yourself out of your sleepy state to give Seungcheol a once-over. He knows it shows all over— the exhaustion in his eyes, his stance. He’s tired, and you can tell. You’ve always been able to tell. 

You step aside a bit and he takes that as his cue. Seungcheol moves past you, a small hum in the back of his throat. He toes off his shoes and shuts the door behind him with a soft click. In spite of himself, the moment he's inside, he reaches for you. 

One arm is loosely slung over your shoulders, pulling you in close. He rests his chin on your shoulder, the tip of his nose against your neck.

"You fell asleep..." he gripes. "Do you know how many texts I sent you? I sent five.” 

“Five”” you repeat as you bear Seungcheol’s weight. Your hand instinctively raises to stroke the base of his hair behind his neck, and he thinks he could melt then and there— your soothing touch, your light tone. “Oh, how ever will you live?”

Seungcheol huffs into the crook of your neck. The feel of your fingers in his hair does wonders to combat the tired, stressed part of himself. Slowly, his shoulders relax, and he sighs, the sound long and deep.

"Don't get snarky with me," he mutters. But there's no bite to it at all, just a quiet sense of contentment in his voice. "You could've at the very least read the messages." He moves, presses a kiss to your neck. "Would've taken ten seconds."

“I was asleep,” you protest, but— whether or not you notice— your head is tilting around a bit to press a lingering kiss on to the side of his face.Seungcheol's stomach flutters. You're sweet like that. Always have been, always will be. He hums under his breath at the kiss, his hand that's on your shoulder moves up to cup your cheek.

“That’s my penance,” you say drowsily. 

"One kiss isn't nearly enough," he tells you. 

He pulls back from your shoulder to look at you, now. The eye contact, the way he regards you, has a more focused weight. He takes a moment to look you over again— hair mussed, face still flushed faintly from sleep. "Two,” he says in a tone that brokers no argument. 

“Greedy,” you mumble, but both of you know it doesn’t matter. 

Not when your free hand finds purchase at his side and you use your fingers in his hair to pull him down so you don't have to stand on your tiptoes. Not when you press your lips together into a kiss that's soft and sweet, almost sleepy.

All it takes is the sound of your voice for Seungcheol to be pulled in— when you tug at his hair, he follows, his chest against yours. He bends down, his own hands coming up to the sides of your face.

He melts against your mouth, his eyes closing in an instant. But it’s done as quickly as it started. You pull away, your face still inches away from Seungcheol’s, as you smilingly mumble to him, “There. Two kisses.” 

His eyes open again once you pull away, his grip on your face tightening just slightly. "Three," he mutters back, and then he leans back in. 

You hum against his mouth, the sound breaking free from the back of your throat. You’re both so tired from your respective work and it shows in the kiss. No heat, no fire. Your tongue swiping over his lip makes Seungcheol hum, quiet and low in his throat. He's usually so used to being the one who takes control, making the first move, but here with you, in the early hours of the morning— there's something else to it.

He pulls you closer against him, his hands moving down to your hips. Against your mouth, he murmurs, "Four," before his tongue slips in, just to get a taste. Just to linger, just to savor, but not take over.

“Cheol,” you huff, though your reprimand is tempered by the way Seungcheol is intent on keeping the kiss going. “You’re— mmph— being greedy—” 

"Five—" he sighs against your mouth. "Let me be greedy a second more."

One of his hands moves to the back of your head, fingers tangling up in your hair. This is what he likes, this is what he always comes to you for. Something that's simple. This, he can deal with. This, he can handle.

It’s never a second more with Seungcheol. He’s always out the door when he can go, when he has to. He’s never been a glutton for time, and so it’s enough for you to sense that something is wrong. 

You break away from him. 

Seungcheol has to resist a whine when you pull back, his eyes fluttering open in a daze. Your hand has moved to his face and you’re looking up at him with a small frown and a quiet query. “Long week?” 

He lets your question hang in the air for a moment, the hand in your hair loosening its grip, fingers just idly combing through the strands.

He glances at your face— the furrow of your brow, the hint of concern in your eyes— and it makes him sigh. He turns his head to press a soft, quick kiss to your palm.

"Long year," he corrects.

You look like you want to say more. Seungcheol almost begs you not to. This— whatever the two of you have— it’s an outlet that won’t break him, won't ruin him, won't tarnish him or the group's name. He just wants— he needs—

You know exactly what he needs, even if he doesn’t always know himself. “How do you want your fifth kiss?” you ask instead of commenting on his obvious fatigue. 

Your question makes Seungcheol's head empty out in an instant.

It takes him a moment to think, to consider. His mind, hazy and tired as it is, struggles to come up with an adequate answer. All he knows is that he's comfortable, that he's tired, that you're here. And that's all he really needs, in the end.

He lets his hand fall from your hair, to the nape of your neck. "... Soft," he murmurs. "Soft and easy."

You’re back up on your tiptoes to give him what he asked for. A sweet, slow press of your lips against his. It’s a kiss that lovers give each other, even though you’re the furthest from that. 

It's easy, easy, easy for him to fall into the kiss just like that, a shudder running down his spine when your tongue doesn't invade him. It's sweet, it's chaste, it's simple. It's exactly the kind of kiss he needs after a week of work.

His hand on your neck moves to your cheek, his thumb brushing over the skin there. He breaks away for a mere second, a fraction of a beat, to catch his own breath, but he kisses you right back after. 

"Six," he whispers desperately. "Again."

This time, you laugh against his mouth— a slightly muffled sound, not any less amused— but you give in, still. When you separate for air again, one of your hands rests on his chest to keep him away. “You have to let me breathe, Cheol,” you huff. 

Seungcheol has to resist groaning outright when your palm on his chest keeps him from coming in for another kiss. You're adorable like this, in the middle of the night, with sleep in your eyes and annoyance in your voice.

He knows he's being needy, taking advantage, but at the same time? It's all he seems to be able to do. Greedy, he hears you call him, and it's true.

"I'll let you breathe when I get my seventh kiss, then," he grumbles.

He can see the annoyance blooming on your expression, but he’s saved by one thing and one thing alone: The fact that you can get pretty greedy sometimes, too, especially when Seungcheol was involved. 

"Fine," you say haughtily, feigning annoyance. "Just one more kiss."

Seungcheol's eyes glimmer with something akin to mischief. His hands move to your face again, his own lips curving up in a smirk. You give him an inch, he wants a mile. It's his style. "One more kiss. That I can work with."

He brushes a thumb over your cheek again, his grip in your hair loosening only to brush some stray strands away from your face. "Only fair that I get to pick the way, then," he says, his tone low.

He's going to make the most of this opportunity, and you're letting him.

His tongue darts out briefly to lick over his bottom lip. "Open your mouth."

When you let out a noncommittal hom and oblige, parting your lips, he knows he’s gone. Seeing the obedience in your face makes Seungcheol's stomach do a little bit of an excited flip. You're like this, this, even when you're tired, when you're barely awake.

It's a little addicting.

"Good," he says softly. It's all the warning you get before he's got his mouth on yours again.

He kisses you— devours you, his tongue parting your lips, sliding into your mouth, taking. The kiss is almost bruising and seems to throw you off balance, but you quickly recover by pressing flush against Seungcheol and holding the sides of his arms. If he were a better person, Seungcheol would let this be the last one. Would let this kiss end and call it a night. 

But then the smallest of sounds escape you. A whimper, a soft noise that only makes all sense fly right out of Seungcheol's head. It's not fair, he thinks, that you still have a hold on him even in the middle of the night.

All it makes him do is pull you closer— press you up against the wall with his entire body, his hands still gripping your face as he kisses you deep. Harder than he usually would, rougher than he normally did.

He swallows the sound, his tongue still in your mouth.

Your fingernails are pressing into his biceps now. Your tongue is sinking into his lower lip; not quite biting, but enough to drag his focus away for a moment. "Seung," you sigh, and it’s like music to his goddamn ears. 

He was Choi or Seungcheol when he was in your makeup chair. Cheol, when it was just the two of you. But Seung was something different entirely. 

A small moan, low and quiet, gets caught in Seungcheol's throat when you bite into his lip, when you whine out his name like that. He knows what it means when you call him like that— knows what he's in for.

He relishes in it. In moments like these when he gets to be like this. When he doesn't have to be responsible, when he doesn't have to be a leader. He gets to be just Seung.

There isn't a single part of his body that's not on fire right now, not when he's got you pinned against the wall, not when you're all satin and soft against him. His grip on your face tightens, and now his lips are no longer on your mouth, but on your jaw, moving down to your neck, your throat.

A quiet, needy little ah falls out your lips when he nips at that spot on your pulse point, and there, there is exactly when he knows that he's got you exactly where he wants you. Pinned by his body, shaking and shivering like he's touching you for the first time.

If he was feeling a little less riled up, a little less needy, he'd keep up the teasing. But he can't, not now. His hands move from your face to your hips, moving under the satin of your pajamas. It's not enough, never enough.

Every sound that leaves your mouth, every little please, just, already sets a fire in his brain. Every part of his mind turns to static, white noise, as he keeps his lips on your throat, your neck, biting and nipping at your skin.

“Seung,” you hiss, your hands flying to his shoulders as you press your back on to the entryway wall, willing yourself not to crumple. “I’m going to get a noise complaint again—”

“I'll pay the fine,” he murmurs against your skin, his lips against your collarbone now, his hands still on your hips. His brain is starting to grow fuzzy, his thoughts less coherent, but this was the goal.

To get you like this. Soft and shaking and desperate. To make you his for the night, for just a little while. To hold some sort of control over something in his life.

“You can't just keep paying for— ah— the fines,” you’re babbling. “They're going— t-to kick me— Seung, fuck!"

Whatever you’re trying to say dies out when Seungcheol nips at your warm skin. The rational part of him, somewhere deep, deep inside, knows that you're right. He can't keep paying your fines for complaints of loud music and loud sex.

The part of him that's currently working on painting a bruise on your collarbone doesn't seem to care all that much.

"I'll pay," he repeats, between leaving a few more marks on your skin for good measure. "As many times as I have to—"

“Jesus Christ,” you cuss, your chest heaving as Seungcheol’s hand moves higher and higher up your shirt. “My neighbors are so fucking sick of me, and it’s all your fault.”

“My fault?” Even through the haze in his head, Seungcheol can't help the low scoff that he lets out. He wants to say that he couldn't care less about your neighbors— wants to say that your pretty mouth makes up for the noise, but something else catches his attention. The brush of his fingers on bare skin. 

His eyes go wide, his brain suddenly clearing.

"You're not wearing anything underneath your pajamas," he deadpans, his voice coming out in a low drawl.

Of course, that adds up. You hadn’t been expecting Seungcheol, after all, so he can’t blame you for foregoing the underclothes. Still, it only stokes the growing flame in the base of his stomach. Especially when you move your head back against the wall so you’re looking right up at Seungcheol, the ghost of a smirk on your face. 

“Wanna check for yourself?” you taunt. 

A low groan falls out of Seungcheol's mouth as soon as you ask that. Like clockwork, his hands go to the hem of your shirt, pulling the fabric up slightly. Just a little bit, just to see if you're really not wearing anything beneath.

"You always like to tease," he says, his voice low. That hint of a smirk on your face is only serving to drive him that much crazier. "Go on, then. Show me, since you want to act all cocky."

You give him half an eye roll that’s more affectionate than anything else before reaching over to the back of your pajama collar. You pull the top over your head in one deft, swift movement. Seungcheol's eyes go wide for just a moment, taking in the sight of you, undressed, in front of him. It never stops shocking him, never stops making his heart thump a little harder, his breath coming out a little more labored.

“Happy?” you half-joke, your voice low. 

He looks at you, up and down, before his eyes go back to your face. His hands move from your hips to your waist, fingers tracing over the sides of your chest as he shakes his head.

"Not yet," he says. "But I will be."

His hands keep tracing over your skin, his touch light— almost feathery, as he keeps his eyes fixed on your face. There's something about seeing you so exposed like this that's driving him absolutely insane, something about you being entirely at his mercy that's making his eyes grow dark.

He leans in, bringing his lips just past your ear. "Turn around," he murmurs, almost like a command.

He sees how you swallow hard, how you take in the familiar darkness in Seungcheol’s gaze. You know him, have known him for years, and that comes with trust. Unflinchingly, you twist around in his arms to press your chest against the wall. 

He has you practically trapped, all against his chest and the wall. His eyes look at you up and down, taking in your bare shoulders and back, the way you've submitted to him so perfectly.

His hands go to your hips again, and his eyes look over your back, following the line of your bare spine. "What do you say we find a use for this wall besides me just pushing you up against it," he murmurs. "Hm?"

“Yes, please,” you whimper, and as soon as you agree, Seungcheol's hands tighten on your hips, his grip almost bruising as he pulls you a little closer to him. You're not going anywhere, not when he's got you like this.

He leans in, his body practically pressing up against your back, his chest against your skin. He bites down on your shoulder, pulling a strangled whine out from somewhere deep in your throat. "You look so goddamn pretty like this, love," he murmurs against your skin.

His hands move from your hips to your chest, tracing the skin there before he brings them up to your throat. He presses his fingers against your pulse point, feeling the thump thump thump of your heartbeat.

He can feel your heart thrumming against his hand, can practically hear you shaking. It's driving him absolutely insane— you, underneath him, trembling for him. The knowledge that he's got you like this, the fact that you're letting him take control, letting him do whatever he wants.

He moves his mouth to that spot on your neck again, the skin that's so sensitive that it makes you whimper and shiver. He always finds it so easy to tease those sounds out of you, and always relishes in doing it.

His hands stay at your neck, his fingers still pressed against your pulse point. This had always been one of Seungcheol's little habits— a single finger on your pulse point, as if he liked seeing which actions would make your heart rate spike, which words would have it hammering.

Seungcheol presses his lips on your skin again. "You're so loud."

He marvels at the way you ball your hands into fists, the way you shake all over with poorly concealed want and need as he keeps nipping and marking. "‘M not," you gasp, lurching forward against the wall. "‘M perfectly— hng!"

Everything is working in his favor.

You're shaking, and your heart is racing, and every noise you make is just more fodder for him. God, he loves it. Loves being the one to make you absolutely tremble and shiver like this. Loves the fact that he's the only one to make you feel like this.

"You're mine," he says again, bringing his mouth closer to your ear. He bites the shell of it, hard, before letting out a low hum.

This is his favorite place in the entire world— right against your back, feeling your body heat against his chest, his tongue running over your skin. He loves how reactive you are to him, how sensitive you are, how your body just melts under his touch.

"Say it," he mutters against your skin. "Who's in control?"

There it is. The million won question.

The whole reason you started these rendezvouses in the first place. He had been spinning out of control, and you had been lonely, and you clicked into place like magnets. 

You give in, like you always do. The words are a soft whimper, almost a shout in your otherwise empty apartment. "You. You're in control, Seung."

That's all he wants to hear.

He digs his fingers into your jaw and wrenches your head so it's turned to look at him, his lips inches from yours. Even if there's a little pain, nothing in him is stopping. "Good," he mutters, his breath hot against your lips. "Good girl."

The kiss that follows is absolutely messy, the kind of kiss where it's just tongue and teeth and raw need. It's worlds different from the soft and easy kisses that Seungcheol asked for earlier, when he first came in complaining about five unanswered texts.

"Seung," you groan as you pull away for air. "Please—" 

When you moan his name, it's like something snaps.

He growls low, his fingers slipping into the waistband of your shorts, gripping the fabric hard enough that there's a very real chance of them ripping. "Please what?" he mumbles against your neck. "You need to tell me what you need, love. Use your words."

"I hate you," you whine, and Seungcheol nearly smiles. He knows you’re not fond of begging, but he needs to hear it from you. At least, he wants to. 

"You know what I—" you’re saying, but dammit, his control is already razor thin as is. He rips off the last fabric of clothing on you until you’re completely bare, pressed entirely up between the wall and him. 

Somehow, your mind still has some shrivel of coherence to complain, "I liked this set, asshole!"

He grins against your skin at your words, chuckling at your whine, at the way you're just reacting to him. You can act annoyed, you can act like you don't need him, but he knows. "I'll buy you a new one," he hums, finally letting go of your shorts and letting them fall to the floor in tatters. "One for me to rip to shreds all over again."

That thought alone makes his blood sing.

It takes you a great effort to turn around, but somehow you manage. Seungcheol is still fully clothed and so your bare chest presses against the front of his shirt. The sight of you, naked, his hands at your hips, pressed right up against him, against his chest like this— he's gone.

And then you’re asking him, low and sweet as he has you caged in, "Where are you going to fuck me tonight, Seung?"

He can't even manage a word for a moment, his hands holding you so tight that he's definitely going to leave marks on your skin, his eyes fixed on your face.

He swallows hard, his mouth suddenly dry at the question. "You want me to say it out loud, hm?"

You go to steal the upper hand for a minute or so, and you do it so effectively. Your hand rises almost lazily to his neck, your finger instinctively finding his pulse point. He feels his heart rate speed up as he watches, just watches, you do it. You stand on your tiptoes to raise your lips directly to his ear. 

All he can feel is the thunder of his heart racing against your hand. You seem to notice it, too, if the smile on your face is any indication. 

"How about you just show me instead?" you say, and he’s convinced he’ll pass out then and there. 

"You're a brat," he mutters through gritted teeth, his hand moving up from your hips and up your spine. "A brat who needs to be taught a lesson."

He takes a shuddering breath, almost completely lost in your little game, before he snaps back to himself. Seungcheol's hand leaves your hip and goes to your hand, gripping your wrist hard. "On the sofa," he says, and it’s nothing short of a command. 

He practically drags you on to the piece of furniture, watching intently as you fall back with a small oomph. Seungcheol stands on the edge of the couch as you prop yourself up by the elbows to watch him right back. 

The sight of you underneath him— your hair splayed against the cushions, your eyes half-lidded and fixed on him? It's absolutely perfect. It's the kind of thing that he wants to keep in his mind forever, the sight he wants to always be able to remember.

He lets out a noise under his breath as he undoes the button of his jeans, the sound of the zipper going down obscenely loud in the quiet room. "Gorgeous,” he breathes. 

He gets his jeans undone and kicked off, his shirt following them not long after, and then he's on top of you, caging you in, his hands either side of your head, staring down at you.

The look in his eyes isn't something he really gets to show often— that raw need, that want, how desperate he is for you. He wants you, God, he wants you so badly, and you're letting him have you.

He dips his head to your neck, his lips against your skin, his breath hot against your pulse point, still absolutely obsessed with that spot. His hands find your wrists, pinning them back against the couch, while his knee finds its way between your thighs, pressing up against you.

You arch and squirm underneath him, visibly distressed with the facsimile of friction that you’re getting from his knee. “Seung,” you pant, grinding your dripping core against his knee. It sends a jolt of electricity through him. “Please— don’t wanna wait any more—”

“Where’s all that snark now, hm?” he teases, his teeth running over the skin on your neck. But he’s not any better off, his own self-control slipping through his very fingers as his hips grind down against you desperately. 

"Been driving me insane, love," he whispers, pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses along the line of your neck. "Been dreaming about this for days. Missing you—” 

A low keen escapes you, and he can only echo it as you tug at the last piece of material separating you. “Can we get this off already, please?” you huff as you hook your fingers at the waistband of his boxer shorts. 

He groans against your skin, his teeth finally letting go when he lifts his head to look down at you, the expression on his face looking like he's fighting for control. "God, yes," he groans, lifting his hips just enough for you to tug them off him.

He kicks them off once you’ve yanked them down, and his hand— which has instinctively gravitated to your pulse point— feels how the beat absolutely skyrockets. One of your arms goes around his shoulder and the other, surprisingly, clutches his jaw.

You’re looking right at him as you say, "Fast and hard, Seung."

"Yeah?" he says, just the slightest hint of a surprise in his voice. "You want me to be rough with you, love?"

Seungcheol was usually a sweet lover. He liked taking his time, liked being gentle and responsible even in bed.

But there were particularly rough weeks, terrible days, where he just needed a means to an end. Where the sex was an outlet, where the best thing you could be for him was his. 

He waits for your permission, because he still always remembers to ask no matter how far deep you’re in. The agreement comes in the form of the best three words. 

"Ruin me, Seung."

You know him too well. You know how he works, you know how he thinks, and you know him better than anyone.

He groans in response to your words, his head dipping down to drag his teeth gently over your collarbone. He's trying to hang on to his control, he is, but it's a losing effort.

"I will, love." His breath is hot against your skin, his hands finding your hips. "Just give me a minute—"

He shifts, just for a moment, to find the condom in his jean pocket. He goes through the motions until he's back on top of you again, one hand coming up to grip your hip again, the other coming up to rest against your throat. He looks down at you, his eyes almost glowing. 

"You trust me?" he mutters. His hand at your hip tightens; his hand at your throat barely clenches around your pulse point, his eyes never leaving yours.

You can feel it, see it. The way the little threads are beginning to unravel and fray. The way this was no longer Seungcheol of SEVENTEEN; not the leader, not the idol. This was something different entirely, someone else completely.

"I do," you whisper back, your eyes so full of adoration for him that he has to bite back the urge to scream. "I trust you, Seungcheol."

His full name is what really does it for him, because then he's pushing in, and you’re gasping, whimpering, trying to adjust around him and the fact that you’re practically clenching him on the get-go. Seungcheol eases in, nice and slow, because you’re too tightly coiled for him to do more than carefully bottom out. You’re both heaving, your breaths coming out as gasps; your own breaths are sharp, harsh, because Seungcheol is still choking you a little. 

His head dips down to your shoulder because he needs something to hold on to, anything, while his mind spins. His head is dizzy feeling you like this, feeling you around him so tightly. He's trembling, his thighs shaking, but he's holding himself back as long as he can.

When Seungcheol gets as far in as he can possibly get, you let out twin groans. He’s completely sheathed inside of you and you’re fluttering around him in a way that’s dangerous. 

“Y’can move, Seung,” you reassure him after a moment, the words coming out strained with desire. “As fast and hard as you want.” 

You sound strangled, just like he feels, and it's taking him a mammoth amount of control to hold himself back. He groans against your shoulder at the sound of your voice, the words you say. He wants to move, to thrust, but he's trying to have some semblance of composure. 

"Love," he says, his voice wrecked. "I—"

His voice breaks. It breaks, because there is only so much he can take, and he's beyond that point now. There's a tremor in his thighs, his hands clenching in the cushion below you.

You drag him right back down, with the sound that you let out that’s halfway a whine and a sigh. One of your hands goes to rest in the space between Seungcheol’s shoulder blades, as if to steady the two of you. 

Your voice is surprisingly firm when you speak. "Let go," you command. And then, softer, "I need you."

Your words, your voice— it's in complete conflict with the situation you're currently in. And yet, it works. He lets out a sound, one that's somewhere between a growl and a whimper, his breath hot against your skin. And then he's moving and he's holding nothing back.

He's hard, brutal, and he's taking. His teeth on your shoulder; his breath against your neck; his nails digging into you.

It's a relentless, dizzying pace. Seungcheol bullies into your weeping cunt, fast and hard, and it draws out the most obscene sounds from you. Gasps, whines, an occasional scream when he hits a particularly sensitive spot. What has him seeing stars is the fact that you can't seem to settle on a name to moan. "Seung— Seungcheol— Cheol—"

Yes, you're saying, yes.

Seungcheol loses himself, utterly and completely, in you. You're on the edge, he can hear it; he can feel it, and God, he wants to hear you say his name. Every single one of them. 

It almost sounds like a mantra, your voice, as he takes and takes and takes, his breathing harsh, ragged.

You go through all of the names you have for him, breathless and wrecked, until you can't even say anything because his hips are snapping into you with a ferocity that's rare but not unwelcome. Your pornographic moans reverberate in your otherwise empty apartment, and Seungcheol thinks he might go insane. 

"'M close," you choke out. "Cheollie, baby, I'm— ah, fuck— Seung—"

His breath catches at your words, his eyes closing for a moment as he groans. You, you, in all your perfect, glorious, undone state. It’s a sight he wishes he could capture, freeze in time.

He lets out a whimper, his words almost slurred when he responds. "Love— I—"

He's never been this rough, never this intense. You're the only one, the only person he's ever let himself go like this with. The only person who he's ever let see everything, take everything.

He's on the edge, he's there, he's—

"C'mon," he whines, his voice barely above a whisper, his hand clenching hard around your hip. "With me, love, please."

It's a miracle that you can even nod, can even find your voice as Seungcheol keeps on going with his erratic, stuttering thrusts. "With you," you gasp. 

He snaps into you, then, and you arch up with a scream of his name. There’s the familiar white-hot flash of pleasure; the impossibly tight clench of your walls around him.

He stays buried in you for several long moments, his forehead resting against your shoulder, his breath coming in ragged gasps, his heart pounding so hard he can feel it in his ears. He has never felt so utterly spent in his entire life, never been so completely, utterly drained of energy. He's weak against you. He’s weak because of you. 

"God," he finally manages to mutter.

He lifts his head, just enough to be able to look at you, but he can't even muster a grin. He's spent and he knows you know that.

His hand comes up slightly, to brush the hair off of your forehead. "I think..." he says, his voice thick and hoarse, "I think I ruined you, love."

You let out a breathless laugh, one that you have to push out of your heaving chest. "You—" you try to say, but the words don't form, not at first. You take a few moments to take in some air, to gulp past the lump in your throat. "You're a fool."

His lips twitch into a tired but genuine smile at the sound of your laugh. It’s a soft sound that he's always thought sounds beautiful, especially coming from you.

A hoarse, broken laugh of his own escapes; his hand coming up to rest at your jawline, his thumb gently tracing over the warm skin there. He's still catching his breath, but he's slowly gathering himself.

"Am I a fool?" he asks quietly, leaning his forehead against yours. "What does that make you, then?"

You’re a fool, too, he thinks to himself. For letting me have this. 

Instead of answering him, you press a small kiss to the corner of his mouth. It’s the only answer he’s going to get from you for now, it seems. 

He lets out a soft huff, moving his head back just slightly, his eyes closing. "You're beautiful, you know that?" he says quietly, his voice still rough with fatigue.

"Every time," you respond. Your own voice is strained, almost tired, but there's a hint of amused exasperation. "You say that every time, Cheol."

His eyes opened once again to look at you.

"Because it's true," he says simply, his voice soft and sincere, the hand resting at your jaw moving to brush your hair back from your face. "It's always true, love."

He lets out a soft sigh, his eyes tracing over your face, taking in every inch of you. His eyes pause at your lips for a moment, his tongue gently wetting his own, his gaze finally moving back up to meet your eyes.

You thread your shaking fingers through the back of his hair and answer his unspoken question. "Kiss me soft and easy, Cheol," you whisper.

The moment the words leave your mouth, he's in action.

He leans forward without a second thought, the hand not buried in your hair going to rest on your hip, his lips meeting yours in a soft, gentle kiss.

There's no heat in it, no want or need. Just a soft press of his lips against yours, gentle and slow. 

It's languid and unhurried. Like there's nowhere either of you have to be after this. For a moment, you can pretend that this is normal— that Seungcheol will not have to leave, and that you’ll not have to change into new pajamas because he'd broken yours, and that you can be... well, something, anything aside from what you are now.

But it's wishful thinking, you both know, so all Seungcheol can do is kiss you. He lets out a soft sound, almost a sigh, as his tongue slides into your mouth, his hand on your hip tightening slightly. His other hand is in your hair still, his fingers gently tracing over your scalp, his body almost melting against yours.

He will have to leave. He always does. But for now, he's here, with you, and you feel perfect, and—

Five minutes, he bargains. Five more minutes.

And then things end, not really by your own accord.

The sharp, shrill sound of Seungcheol's phone ringing breaks through your haze. You pull away, a bit jolted at the foreign sound— at something other than your words, your breathing, reverberating in the room. It takes you a beat too long to realize someone is calling him— his phone in his discarded jeans— in the godawful middle of the night. 

He lets out a loud groan, the sound tired and drawn out, and he can't help but rest his forehead against your shoulder once again, letting out a resigned sigh.

"God, save me," he mutters, his voice rough. "What time is it?"

You chuckle lightly. "Go on," you urge softly, not because you want to but because you have to. "Answer."

Seungcheol lets out another loud, drawn out sigh, his shoulders slumping in obvious defeat. He reluctantly lifts his head from your shoulder with a grumble, but he can't quite stop himself from pressing a kiss to your cheek just before he shifts up and off of the couch.

Once he’s reached down to grab his phone from where it's stuffed in the pocket of his jeans, he answers without looking at the caller ID. "Yeah?"

"Hyung!"

It's Soonyoung— of course it's Soonyoung— calling.

"Are you still at the company?" the younger member asks. "I think I forgot my headset in one of the practice rooms, and Minghao said you didn't go home with them."

"It's midnight, Soonyoung." 

You shit over on the couch, careful not to make any sound. Not to give Soonyoung any suspicion that Seungcheol might be somewhere where he shouldn't be. You press a small, reassuring kiss to Seungcheol's hip as Soonyoung goes on to whine, "Yeah, yeah, I know. But it's the expensive headset, hyung. If you're still there, could you check? Please?"

Seungcheol lets out a huff— a mixture of resigned affection and irritation— at the feeling of your lips against his skin. He can feel the exhaustion deep within his bones now, and all he wants to do is go back to snuggling into you for the night.

But he can't say no to Soonyoung, especially not at this time of night.

"Fine," he grumbles, letting out a huff. "Which practice room?"

You can hear the moment Soonyoung practically brightens with triumph.

"Third floor!" he says happily, and you bury your face into Seungcheol's side to keep yourself from laughing. "You're the best, hyung! I'll buy you a meal tomorrow for the trouble!"

He reaches down with the hand not holding his phone, pressing his palm to the top of your head, pushing lightly down. A warning of don't laugh. "Just be thankful I'm your hyung, kid," Seungcheol grouses.

Soonyoung ends the call soon enough, saying some things about sending Seungcheol a photo of his headset so he knows exactly which one is missing. When it's back to just the two of you again, you tilt your head up to look at Seungcheol. 

"You're really going back for it tonight?" you ask, even though you already know the answer. 

The corner of his lip twitches into a half smile at the way you look up at him. His eyes takein the sight of you— his hand on the back of your head, his fingers gently twisting strands of your hair.

"Of course I am," he sighs. "I can't say no to him, love."

You shift upward so you can sit side by side with Seungcheol. Both of you have yet to put on any clothes, but you’ve at least gathered your bearings enough to form coherent words now.

"You can't say 'no' to any of them," you tease as you press a gentle kiss to his cheek. There's an almost blinding affection in your tone as you say, "You and your goddamn boys."

Seungcheol reaches out, wrapping an arm around your waist to tug you closer to him. Briefly, he presses his lips against your hair. His eyes are almost tender as he speaks.

"They're my boys," he says, his voice soft.

You let the words hang there for just a moment. It’s an admission, one that both of you have known for the longest time, but it's also a reminder. It’s the reason why you and Seungcheol can never be more than this—because he has his boys, and he would never do anything to jeopardize them.

You press your face against the column of his neck for just one more precious moment. You’ve never been selfish about Seungcheol, but there were nights when you thought about it. Just… thought about it.

The thought never wins.

"Let’s clean up, get dressed," you whisper into his skin. "So you can head to the company sooner."

He lets out a soft, almost painful exhale. He knows what you're thinking, what you're feeling; he's thought about it himself, as well. He hates having to leave you, hates having to say that he has to leave you. But his boys are his boys, and one day all this will be over, and then...

He can't think about it right now, though.

Instead, he nods, pressing a light kiss to your temple. "Yeah."

It takes about ten minutes or so for you both to gather everything together. Seungcheol still looks tired, though for different reasons now. He’s essentially traded one exhaustion for another.

As he puts on the shoes he left in your entryway, you lean against your doorway with your arms crossed over your chest. "I’ll be holding you accountable for my pajama set," you warn him. "And for tomorrow’s noise complaint."

"Yeah, yeah," he huffs, taking a step toward you. "Don't worry, I haven't forgotten."

His face softens as he reaches you, his hands coming up to grab your elbows, gently pulling you closer to him. "Sorry," he says. "Again."

 "You’re not sorry, " you sigh pointedly, more out of spite than anything. It’s the truth—he’s not really that apologetic about losing control every now and then, about your neighbors knowing you’re being pulled close every so often.

When you bury your face into his chest, he lets out a low, gruff chuckle, his chin resting gently against the top of your head. His arms wrap around you, holding you tightly against him, just like every single time before.

"You’re right," he murmurs. A quiet, affectionate admission. “Not sorry. Not even a little.”

He holds you there against him, his eyes fluttering shut as he allows himself just a few more moments before he has to leave. You both stay there, allowing yourselves that moment, until the tension in Seungcheol’s shoulders fades and your annoyance at your torn pajamas ebbs. It could’ve been five minutes, maybe less, but then Seungcheol’s phone pings with a text—surely Soonyoung asking if he’s found his headset.

You’re the one who takes the step back, putting some distance between you. "Drive safe," you tell Seungcheol. "Text me when you’re there."

Resigned. That’s the only way to describe the smile that tugs at his lips. "Yeah," he says. "I will."

True to his word, Seungcheol does indeed send you a text about an hour or so after he'd arrived at the company, informing you that he was there and had found Soonyoung’s headset.

He's still exhausted, and all he wants is to be back. Back inside of you, back with you. But he can't do any of that. At least, not right now. Not at this point.

I miss you already, is the only other thing he adds to his text.

Your text comes in only moments later, like you had been waiting by your phone. 

you're a fool. head home. take care.

A soft sigh escapes him the moment he reads your text, his eyes flickering over the words you'd typed, the harshness of it. It's another layer of protection for the both of you, but it's still not easy to read.

He's about to respond with something snarky, some light-hearted joke to tease you a bit, but he stops himself at the last moment. He knows that you're right.

He needs to head home. He needs to take care.

And he’s an absolute goddamn fool, in more ways than one. 

[weird-and-unwell]

“Autism isn’t a disability”, “it’s just a difference”.

I am of lower support needs. I hold down a (part time) job. I have travelled around my home country. I live alone.

At work they complain about my speech. I’m too quiet, they say, “barely audible” is the words used at my autism assessment. My voice is all monotone, and it needs to be more expressive. I get this complaint every week for a year straight, until my manager gives up. I don’t attend trainings because I forget and find it overwhelming anyways. My coworkers form friendships, and I watch them talk, wondering how they make it look so easy. I get a new manager, I tell her I find the work socials too overwhelming to attend. She tells me I can just say I don’t want to come. I don’t know how to tell her that I desperately want to, to be like the rest of my coworkers, instead of constantly being the one sat on the sidelines.

I come home, and I can hear my neighbours again. The niggling background noise messes with my head, and I meltdown; I throw myself on the floor, I hit my head on the ground repeatedly as I scream and cry, tear out my hair and scratch my arms and face. When I complain, people tell me that I just have to accept that neighbours make noise, that I should just ignore it, or block it out. I am the problem, the one overreacting. I put in earplugs and it hurts and I'm crying again. I wear headphones but I can't handle the noise for that long.

I have reminders set for everything. Every chore, no matter how big or small. My phone beeps at me, reminding me that I need to wash the dishes. If I don't go now, then tick the little box on my phone to say I did it, it won't get done. My home is almost always a mess despite this. It's not just chores either. I won't think to wash, dress myself, brush my teeth or hair, without those reminders. And unless someone actively prompts me to do so, I will do those tasks "wrong". I haven't changed my underwear in a month, and I'm currently aware that's a problem, but within the hour I'm going to forget all over again until I'm next prompted.

I can't sleep without medication - it's not unusual for autistic people to have messed up circadian rhythms. Without my medication it's hard to even tell when I'm awake and when I'm asleep. When I was younger and at school I slept through so many lessons, and when I have my mandatory breaks from my sleep meds I sleep through every alarm I set. I want to work full time some day, and I'm terrified of what my sleep issue will mean for me then.

I don't travel independently. I don't travel anywhere alone, always with someone or to someone. If to someone, I have assistance the whole way. I find it embarrassing sometimes. Yes, I have a job that requires a certain level of intelligence. No, I cannot get on a train by myself. If I am not shown To The Train, To My Seat, I will be unable to travel.

Last time I travelled, I was left alone at the station for ten minutes. I stayed rigid and sobbed the whole time. I was overwhelmed. It was too loud, I didn't know where I was or where I was meant to be going, and until the assistance person came back I couldn't do anything because for some reason I cannot understand it.

I spend a lot of time trying to explain to people that despite my relative competence, I am unable to do many things. Why can I understand high level maths but not how to get on a damn train? No fucking idea.

"Autism isn't a disability" most severely affects those with higher support needs, and this is absolutely not to take away from them. But for fucks sake, autism is disabling.

Maybe you personally are extremely lucky and just find you're a little "socially awkward", or just find some textures painful or nauseating. Maybe you would be fine with just a couple of adjustments.

But for a lot of us, even lower support needs autistics, it doesn't work like that. I will never sleep properly without medication. I still have the self-harming type of meltdowns as an adult, over things that are deemed as being "just part of life". I live alone but have daily visits from family - if I'm left fully alone I forget all the little daily things one is "meant" to do. I had speech therapy as a child to get me to the "barely audible" "mostly correct" speech. I don't mask, I'm not really sure how I would to begin with.

I'm not unhappy with being autistic. It's just who I am. Life would be easier if I were neurotypical, but I also wouldn't be me. I just wish those luckier than me could...stop saying it's all chill and not at all a disability.

Because yes, socially, I am "awkward". I obviously don't make eye contact - I stare down and to the side of whoever I speak to. People think it's weird or creepy or a sign of disinterest. My autism assessor wrote down about how I often use words and phrases that don't make sense to others, even though they make perfect sense to me. In my daily life this means I'm frequently misunderstood, and have to try explain what I mean, when what I mean is exactly what I said, and the true issue is that what I mean just doesn't make sense to others. I gesture, at times, but again, my gestures apparently don't make sense in relation to what I'm saying. I take things literally, I have almost no filter, and I can't explain how I go from topic to topic.

And yes, I do have sensory problems. Sometimes people, including others with sensory problems, tell me that "sometimes sensory issues have to be tolerated", and I wonder what they think of as being sensory issues. I'm sure they do struggle, but if I say I can't handle a touch, I mean you will need to forcefully hold it against me for me to touch it more than a second and it will make me meltdown. If I say "I can't eat that", I mean that I am unable to swallow it, that I will gag and choke and inevitably spit it back out, as much as I try. If I say I can't handle a noise, I mean I'm so close to a meltdown and my meltdowns are a problem for everyone around me.

But yes. Autism. Not a disability. Just a fun quirky difference.

[nanamiluvs]

lactation link with nanami please

honestly i had to sit and ponder for a moment when i received this request because DUDE i can and i will make this man lactate but that's for another day ig

having his fill !

pairing : husband!nanami x reader

rating : explicit

wc : 1k

tags : reader is afab but no pronouns used, reader is called "wife" once, nanami and reader had a child, lactation kink, breastfeeding, oo nanami wants you so bad, nanami is a little shy when it comes to things like this

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

husband!nanami whose eyes linger on your chest for a moment too long. husband!nanami who thinks you haven't noticed.

husband!nanami whose eyes are on you as you're feeding your little baby. he smiles with fondness, the two loves of his life together in a single picture. he adores the sight, really, as much as he adores you. even as your hair disheveled and your eyes heavy, he thinks you're the most beautiful person in the world.

but what he feels bad about is the moment you shift, parting the little mouth of your daughter from your nipple as you place her back in her crib. he can't help how his eyes linger at the exposed skin, leaking a few drops of milk, swollen and oh he wants to latch onto it so bad and he's going to jump out the window if he gets hard at the sight right now.

it's not like it didn't happen. nanami knows of the few times his dick hardened at the thought of sucking your tits, so full and ready to give him milk as much as he w-

husband!nanami who clears his throat and offers you a smile, pressing a gentle kiss on your lips as he tells you dinner is ready, so come eat.

well, he has, for sure, had his mouth on your chest before- just not during the latter part of your pregnancy and after the baby was born, who was now two and a half months old.

this weird pattern of his behaviour has been going on for quite some time, you knew that much. you had a guess on what the hell that was all about, but you could never be sure when it came to the man named kento nanami.

you two ate dinner, chatting as usual with your laughter and his occasional chuckles filling the room. you were going to get to the bottom of this...but how? how could you possibly start the conversation? so, you decided to delve right in as he finished washing the dishes.

"kento, is there something you want to say to me?" you say, halting your movements to look at him. he stopped in his tracks as well.

husband!nanami who coughs when he feels your chest press against him as you asked, eyes oh-so innocently staring up at his.

husband!nanami who blames himself for feeling a rush of excitement when he shouldn't have. you were probably doing it on purpose, but what if you weren't? he'd hate to be such a degenerate for someone like you.

husband!nanami who confirms his suspicions when you place his large hand on top of one of your tits, making him grope the flesh. "if you want to ask something, just ask, kento. i'm your wife."

husband!nanami who has you laying on the couch as he towers over your smaller frame, his lips kissing yours with fervor. your shirt is off and he's completely clothed as his mouth trails down to your neck. his hands cover almost the entirety of your breasts, separated by the layer of your bra. he shifts the weight in his hands, caressing them, and you feel his bulge shift against your thigh.

husband!nanami who looks at you before he takes your bra off, eyes then immediately captivated by the way your tits move when they're set free. his eyes focus on the darkened tips, mouth parting like he was going to say something.

"can i..."

you laughed at his timidness, scared of asking whatever he was going to ask. "can you what, kento?"

"hell." he buried his face in your chest, cheeks flushing in embarrassment. "can i," he pulled back to meet your gaze, a desperate look on his handsome face. "my love, i apologize if this sounds weird, it's just- can i...have a taste?"

you smiled and nodded, shifting to rest your back on the pillow on the side of the couch. "see, that wasn't so hard." cupping his face in your hands, you pulled him closer and pressed a soft kiss to his lips. "just make sure there's some left for the baby."

husband!nanami who might have misheard your last sentence by the way his mouth sucks on your buds, shy licks of testing the waters turning into harsh sucking that made your milk flow out. you grabbed his hair, whining, saying something about how he's too rough, which falls to deaf ears.

husband!nanami who realizes, once he had a taste, that he's probably getting addicted.

husband!nanami who can't help but toy with your breasts as he fucks into you, watching the milk squeeze out and then reach down to lick the drops. he's mesmerized by both the taste and the visual. while he had always liked your chest, he was particularly obsessed with them after your pregnancy. you let out high-pitched moans as his teeth bit into your nipple, playing with it as if he was the baby.

husband!nanami who likes the taste way more than you would have expected, begging for more with his eyes when you tell him there's probably no more coming out. and he's always right, too, he makes more come out.

husband!nanami whose mouth latches onto one of your nipples when you two are fucking, just needy for you as his hand rolls and kneads your other tit. his eyes take a glance at the way milk comes out squirting, thinking about what a waste it is.

husband!nanami who still feels embarrassed to talk about his newfound kink but is eager to indulge in it.

husband!nanami who has found yet another thing about you to love.

[thegnomelord]

pls pls pls pls pls pls write something with hound getting a lil chubby during rehab pls i want to see him soft and comfy, being hand fed and cuddled. hound with a little tum from finally having not only enough to eat but enough rest to actually gain a little extra weight pls im in my knees characters getting a lil chub as a sign of healing my beloved

Okay here's a small brain fart for you:

You've gotten fat.

it's a rather egregious exaggeration, according to the two sergeants, but it's the first thing you think of when you look in the mirror. Your hard muscles still bulge beneath your skin when you flex, but now there's a layer of fat cushioning your frame — it smooths the planes of your abdomen, widens the circumference of your thighs and the breadth of your shoulders until you're popping the seams of your clothes, the layer of fat deepening the cleavage between your pecks whenever you cross your arms. Even your cheeks look chubbier than they had before.

You don't look like death warmed over, and you don't know how to feel about it. The psychologist says it's a good thing, your body finally figuring out it can slow down and focus on healing instead of constantly living on the edge of a knife.

But you just don't see it. It feels like you're regressing; Forgetting the harshness of the wild when you're collared and leashed by the fireplace, growing fat and lazy, complacent. A spoiled dog isn't loyal.

You let out a noise at the back of your throat when Johnny suddenly rushes into the small room you've been given, the door slamming open and closed. You don't have time to even say a single word before he's in front of you, "Hide me!" and then he's gripping your shit and pushing himself beneath it. Your frame is big enough to where you completely block him out, and his arms wrap as much as they can around your waist so he can cling to you.

You're rarely stunned to the point you don't know what to do, but this is one of those times.

A second later you hear a "MacTavish!" and loud footsteps rush down the hall, accompanied by loud swears and threats you can only assume are from Ghost.

Johnny waits still as a statue as the footsteps grow quiet, his breath washing over your skin from where his face is pressed against your chest. When they grow quiet he shuffles, a couple of seams popping in the already stretched out shirt until he pokes his head through the head hole of the shirt, resting his chin on the top of your sternum. "Thanks laddie, saved me skin there."

"Что блят?" Is the only thing your mind can force out, defaulting to Russian because you haven't been able to dig up your mother tongue from the grave the old you is buried in.

"Ah don't worry about it, the bloody dobber had it comin' with his bloody tea in chef Mike an' — Hmmm," His attention focuses on you, head disappearing beneath the shirt once again until only his stupid mohawk pokes out as his hands give an experimental squeeze at your sides, some of the fat getting trapped between his fingers. "Hey, have you gotten bigger? Ah could swear you weren't so fluffy before."

"That a nice way of calling me fat?" You feel the need to cross your arms, to hide the cushioning hiding your muscles. Ants gnaw on your skin where Soap touches you, his calloused palms sliding as far as they can and a strange sound rumbling in his chest when he registers that the space between both of his hands is indeed larger than it had been a couple of months ago.

"Nonsense!" He guffaws, "There's just more ta love." He hums, hands pinching the fat at your sides, evidently too content with your position as his human furnace to even think about detaching from you. "Oh yeah, you've filled out. Yae know hens love the dad bod, get some more hair on yer chest an' you'll be reeling the bucks in too."

"That-" You have to bite your lip when his hands suddenly shoot up to grope your pecks. He pushes them together and buries his face in the cleavage created. Your brain completely shuts off when he fucking motorboats you, shaking his head and making a sound right against your chest to the point you're sure you can feel the vibrations in your spine.

"MacT-avish!" The sound that escapes you is humorously high-pitched for someone of your size, your voice cracking as you feel your entire face grow hot.

He pokes his head back out like a whack-a-mole, a very pleased look on his face. "Yeeess?" He asks, sickly sweet. "Something the problem big man?"

"I-" You try, too many thoughts weighing down your tongue, "-You-" this time your voice cracks, "-why-" you hiccup, your lungs choosing this time to request air as you breathe in. You look in his eyes as best you can, but the way the sparkle makes it difficult for your body to stoke the flames of anger you've grown so used to feel. ". . . блят." You finally manage to say, your shoulders sagging.

He grins at you, his hands sliding down to pet the soft surface of your stomach, fingers pressing down to feel the hard muscle beneath the fat. "Aye, big bear of a fucker, you are." He grins and goes on his tippy toes, the shirt moving up with him before he lightly pecks your lips. "Yae look good like this."

"Yeah?" You grunt, trying not to show how the soft touch affects you but your ears feel like you'd dipped them into the pits of hell.

"Definitely." He's confident when his hands slides down to grope your ass, forcing another embarrassing sound from your chest. "Now how about we get some more food in yer belly? Make you the famous MacTavish pie."

[fairytsuk1]

mile high club | (smut)

pairing: alex quackity x reader

words: 1.9k

warnings: sexual content, surprise visit, riding, quickie, couch sex, mild femdom, mild sub!alex, unprotected sex, pre-established relationship

summary: "Sooo, What about Quackity dating someone who lives in a different country, and since both of them have been really busy they haven't seen each other in person in a couple months, so he decides to give his s/o a surprise visit?"

It was as normal of a day as ever. You’d woken up early and greeted Alex, who happily called you while you brushed your teeth and washed your face.

“Good morning, sleepyhead,” and you can hear the smile in his voice.

“Good morning,” you yawn, rubbing your eyes, “what have you been up to?”

“Oh, you know,” he avoids the question, “just getting on with the day. You have your little morning voice right now, so cute, you know.”

Your laugh rings prettily into the phone as Alex blatantly flirts with you. He still made you feel like a teenager, all giddy with excitement and want. Plus, you miss him. It feels like eons ago that he would pull you closer to his chest mornings like these, firm arms snug around your waist as he curled around you like a mama bear. Your heart ached at the thought, even just sharing breakfast or coffee felt special.

“Well, whatever! I just woke up and gotta start my morning routine. But seriously, what are you up to? It sounds kinda noisy?”

The mild hustle and bustle cuts through the phone's static. It’s too muffled to hear anything, and you’re too sleep-addled to decipher it, “it’s nothing, baby. I’m just at the store. It’s crowded today, but I need some groceries.”

“Oh, right, Target?”

Alex pauses, “Yeeeah. I gotta go, honey, but I’ll talk to you later!”

Something feels off, but you swallow your worries.

“Yeah, we’ll talk later! I love you.”

“Te quiero mucho.”

There’s a quick click and then silence. Usually, Alex was more carefree with his thoughts. He had no problem freely expressing himself to you; he even told you that you were someone who made him feel like he could. But maybe you’re just being an overly attached girlfriend! You’re just thinking too hard about this. It’s probably fine, right?

You brush your teeth hastily with vigor, and you make record-breaking time on your skincare routine. The faster you get your day started, the bigger head start you have against those anxious thoughts.

It was an extreme relief when you received sporadic texts from Alex.

[lex <3]: what’s up babe??

[lex <3]: I’m thinking of youu

[lex <3]: te quiero verte pronto <3

It made your heart race and make you want to look bashful and hide underneath your lashes because he was so charming. You eagerly reply to him with a plentiful amount of hearts and kisses. Just knowing he was thinking of you made you feel good. It uplifted your day as you flicked on mascara and tied up your New Balances. 

Things were average that day. The loud ringing doorbell broke you out of your TV rewatching reverie. You’re expecting some religious fanatics; damn, they could be so annoying. No packages you ordered that you knew of, no plans left forgotten, who could it be—

You’re absolutely taken aback. The breath in your lungs seemingly dissipates into the air, condensing into invisible wispy strands. What’s this? Alex stands before you with a bright smile. His jacket is black and puffy, and he’s got his striped beanie that turns beautiful wild locks of hair into a shape resembling an egg. It’s your boyfriend. He’s suddenly materialized on your doorstep with rolling luggage and smooth words, “Are you gonna invite me in?”

“Alex! Oh my god,” you fly into his arms, darting into them like the floor was a springboard, “this isn’t real. How are you here? This is insane!”

“I flew here; I had to see you,” he says earnestly, “I’m so fucking glad to see you.”

“I’m glad to see you, Lex!”

The two of you are locked in a cozy embrace. Your arms cradle Alex's head like he’s a baby, your baby, as you pepper soft, freckled skin with kisses. He tries to tell you to stop and tries to squirm away, but you aren’t letting go now that he’s here in your hands. 

"You totally lied about the grocery store!"

"Come onn, I couldn't give away the surprise!"

Alex holds you by your waist and takes deep inhales in your neck. Something about your scent and knowing that you’re there in his arms makes him feel high. That makes him feel more than elated, indeed in a near-delirious state of love.

Both of you adjust to him being back. His luggage is left haphazardly in the bedroom while he kicks his shoes off to get comfortable. You can’t help but hang off of him and touch every single part of him as if this is a dream that could not be possible. He preens, feeling your hand smooth down the expanse of his back, covered with a fit Planet Duck t-shirt that made him look so delectable.

You were always attracted to Alex; there was no question about that. However, the combination of not having seen him for long, along with his freshly cut hair, was doing things to you. The experience of being in his space was sending your pussy into overdrive. Even the first shared kiss the two of you have leaves you wanting more as your clit quivers. Alex seems like none the wiser to your needs as the two of you settle down together.

“What do you wanna order, pizza?”

“Whatever you want, handsome,” and your nails scratch at his forearm just to feel his goosebumps prickle up.

“Handsome? Why thank you,” he smirked, giving you an Eskimo kiss. “Are you sure you don’t have a craving for anything?”

“I think… the only craving I have is you.”

“Wow, you must really want me to be begging like this,” he teases, bringing his face so close that his breath hits your lips, “what do you want?”

“I want my boyfriend, who I haven’t seen in months, to fuck the shit out of me. Think that can be arranged?”

“Absolutely,” Alex brings you into a kiss.

His hands weave into the hair at the back of your neck. When he brings you closer, the tension of the pull makes your jaw drop in a gasp. Alex takes advantage of your blatant thirst through your lips by slipping a slick tongue to toy with yours. He tastes like mints, and you fist your hand in his jacket with a crinkle. Both of you sway, shifting first to lean back before you press your lips against him harder and swing a leg over his wide legs. 

It feels sweltering when the two of you pull away with panting breaths. You’re perched high in Alex's lap, and his hands possessively hold the curve of your ass. His lips are pink if slightly bitten, as they swell. You’re sure yours aren’t any better, but it hurts in the best way when you rejoin your lips together for another kiss.

“Extrañe tanto tu cuerpo, quiero comérmelo,” he rasps and rolls you further into his chest, further against his hardening cock.

His words leave you shivering as you roll your hips against him again.

“Wanna ride you first, I’ve missed your cock filling me up sooo much.”

Alex blushes at hearing your praise. Your hands caress his shoulders soothingly as he relaxes more on the couch, “I think about you all the time. Fisting my cock pretending it’s your pussy, fuckk, but it’s never the same.”

“My fingers never do it like yours do,” his sweatpants are expertly undone and tugged down.

“Oh, I know. I always make you feel good,” his hips lift as you lower his boxers to reveal the tan skin of his thick cock.

Your mouth instantly waters at the sight of him. His head is dark and weeping with pre-cum as it twitches in the cool air. Spitting on your hand, eye contact is captivating as you begin to work your hand up and down his cock. Your wrists twist, and Alex lets out a high-pitched moan, hand digging into the plush cushion of the couch. He only whines sweeter and pants heavier as your slick up his dick, working him up till he feels his balls churning with the need to release.

Alex whines when you let go, hands pawing at your waist to align your dripping hole with the head of his cock. His mouth is fast to latch onto your nipples or to lightly nibble at the soft skin of his tummy.

“Be patient,” you lightly chide.

“Can’t, need you too bad,” he moans as delicate fingers touch his cock, “I wanted to surprise you, so now you treat me.”

“What a demanding boy.”

“Ah! Oh, fuck. Fuckfuckfuck,” your soaked pussy sinks down on his fat cock.

He’s not impossible to take, but the stretch still makes your stomach quiver after such a long time. It’s welcoming, though. Your pussy is carved to take Alex, to be fucked relentlessly by him as he makes your tongue loll out your mouth.

“God, fuck! I missed this so much, Lex,” your eyes are teary as you wetly rise and lower yourself on his dick, “making me feel so full.”

“You’re amazing, riding me so well. Hah, ah, you always make me feel good!”

You’re preening and crawling closer with faster hips as Alex wails for you. There are lewd smacking sounds that reverberate through the room as you fuck yourself on his dick. Things heated up so fast that everything felt as though the intensity of your fucking had been turned up to eleven.

His cock curves in your gummy walls. Every downstroke leads to the tip pressing against the spongy spot inside you; it makes your hips seize desperately as you pound yourself against Alex. He’s moved to lightly jerking his hips, mouth suckling on your tits and leaving gentle marks on your back. His nails are blunt, but the sting makes the coils inside you grow tighter and tighter with tension.

You feel so wet, wet, wet. Your walls are squeezing Alex, desperate for every single drop of release, and his orgasm is about to slap him in the face, “I-I’m getting close, oh shit. Babe, fuck, I’m gonna cum!”

“Cum inside me, Lex. I wanna feel it, breed me,” it comes out in a whine as you grow closer and closer to your peak, “gonna cum all over this cock, papi. Fuckkk, you own this pussy! Oh, oh!”

Alex cums first. His hot ropes fill you like warm lava, filling your pussy to the brim with his seed as he groans out from under you. He was at your mercy as you milked him through your orgasm, milky walls squeezing his dick for all it’s worth. Your thighs ache in the best way as you sink into his lap. 

His cum leaks out of you lewdly around his softening cock. Both your eyes meet as you regain your breath. He looks a mess, and you know you do two as your sweaty bodies rest against each other. A flicker of fondness turns into a full-blown flame, “I-I love you. I missed you so much.”

“I love and miss you too, a ton,” he whispers, “and I’m glad I came to surprise you.”

You smile at him with watery eyes, “Yeah, me too.”

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

To be alone with you 8

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, obsession, power imbalance, cheating, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Your babysitting gig becomes complicated. (f!plus sized!reader)

Character: dilf!Clark Kent

Note: who predicted 2024 would be the year I converted to Cavill.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)

Love you all. Take care. 💖

The blinds are drawn as you hug your pillow with one arm. Your body is stiff as you sleep with one leg hooked around your blankets, the bottom of one cheek exposed to the steady blow of AC. You shiver and roll onto your back, pulling the covers around you fully.

The night before is a vague shadow in your mind. You remember starting the movie but not much else. You’d been so tired after the break-in, you must’ve passed out almost immediately. You feel bad, hoping that Clark doesn’t take it to heart.

You push yourself up. Your head is thick and full with sleep. You haven't slept like this in forever. Your mouth is dry but tangy. You swallow the gritty morning and cough, turning to dangle your legs over the edge.

Your striped shorts are crooked and wrinkly and your tee shirt smells like sweat. Ugh. You're a mess. 

You stand and lumber around clumsily. You grab a change of clothes and try to stretch out the kinks as you cross the hall to the bathroom. You close the door and put your clothes on the counter, facing your reflection.

You look rough. You feel just as bad. You turn on the cold water and splash it over your face before you brush your teeth, scraping out the stale taste stuck to your tongue. You turn on the shower and undress, wincing as your thighs meet.

You must be close to your time of the month. You get a bit sensitive. It would explain your fatigue and the soreness. Great. 

You step into the glass booth and wash yourself. The warm water is soothing against your stiff muscles. God, you really hurt. You reach down to touch your folds, checking your fingers for blood.

PMS is a bitch. Not enough to bleed for a week, your body has to gaslight you into thinking you are already.

After, you pull on the fresh clothes but hardly feel more awake. Just sluggish and achy. Coffee. You don't live off it like your sister but you need it in that moment.

Thinking of, where is your sister? Not too unusual for her to he errant but it's been a few days.

As you come downstairs, you hear snoring rumbling through the first floor. You slow and tiptoe into the front room. You cautiously approach the couch and find Clark, arms crossed, sleeping on his side, cramped into the small space as he slumbers. The small throw stretched over his shoulders. 

Your stomach pits. You're certain he'd much rather be at home in his own bed. Your guilt keeps you from disturbing him.

You creep into the kitchen, making your movement muted and staggered. You flip the switch on the kettle and wait as it hums. You load the french press with grinds and teeter on your toes, dancing nervously around the tile. 

You pour the boiling water into the press and check the time on the stove. You give it time to brew and lean on the island, listlessly cupping your chin and tapping your cheek with your fingertips. As you blow out, you hear the floorboards and stand up to greet Clark as he enters. 

His hair is askew, eyes droopy, and the blanket still draped around his neck. You didn't realise before he hadn't been wearing a shirt. His pajamas hang low on his stomach, the dark hair across his chest and trailing down his stomach exposed shamelessly. You gulp and focus on his face. 

“Smells like coffee,” he grins crookedly, “morning.”

“Morning, uh, I hope I didn't wake you up,” you squeak.

“Not at all,” he waves you off, “you passed out so quick, I figured you'd be up and at em. Besides, Jonny’s an early riser.”

“Oh, okay,” you turn to press down the plunger on the press, “I'm sorry I zonked out so fast–”

There's less resistance than you expect and the coffee splashes up and overflows, splashing your hands as you recoil with a yipe. You try to shake it off but a particular spot on the back of your hand singes badly. Before you can think, Clark has your arm and angles you to the sink as he flips on the cold water.

He guides your hand under, crowding you as your arm shakes in pain. You hiss even as the water soothes. 

“Oh, I'm so clumsy,” you murmur.

“As long as you're okay,” he slowly lets you go, “you let me take care of this.”

He swipes up the dish towel and sops up the errant drops of coffee. He dries off the outside of the press and patiently pushes down the plunger. You turn off the water and use a fresh towel on your hands.

He faces you, “blistering?”

You look at your hand, “just tender.”

“You're lucky I'm here,” he chortles, “scare away all the bad men and take care of your burns.”

“Ha, yeah, I–”

“Mm, something smells like cherry blossoms,” he interrupts, sniffing the air, his blue eyes narrowing on you, “is that you?”

“Um, yeah,” you catch a wafting scent from your body, “that's my body soap. Oh no, is it setting you off?”

“Not at all,” he smiles, “I was more worried about you.”

“Ah, no, it's fine. The soap doesn't trigger me surprisingly.”

“Hm,” he leans on the counter, gripping the edge as you notice how his stomach muscles clench, “I bought Lois some cherry blossom soap once. She never used it. Guess it isn't her scent.”

“Not for everyone I guess,” you turn and open a cupboard, taking down two mugs.

“Mm, yeah,” he agrees dully, “well, I should call your dad over my coffee,” he pushes himself straight and nears, stopping right beside you as you pour into the cups, “maybe after we can go get breakfast. My treat.”

“Oh, you don't have to–”

“I want to. Kinda weird not having Jonny around, looking fir a distraction,” he accepts a mug as you slide it over to him.

“Makes sense,” you say, “well, who am I to deny a free meal?”

🏡

After searching your coffee cup for an ounce of strength, you give in to the persistent glaze in your eyes. Maybe eating will help. Clark's offer is generous, almost too generous, yet your stomach clenches at the thought of food.

You grab your purse and head down to find Clark. He's in the kitchen, rinsing his mug, your own forgotten on your night stand. He dries it and puts it away as you wait for him to notice you.

“Did you talk to my dad?” You ask.

“Yeah, actually, couldn't get through. They must be on the road. Service gets spotty, right?” He hangs the dish towel neatly, “so you ready? I gotta stop by my place and change but then we can eat.”

“Sure, uh, well, you know, if it's too much…”

“Not at all, I'm excited. There's this place I've been meaning to try for a while but Lois hasn't felt like it,” he says, “tried calling her too. Think she's still mad at me.”

“Oh, I'm sorry, Mr. Kent.”

“Clark,” he corrects you, “you make me feel so old.”

“Sorry,” you apologize again.

“It's fine,” he shrugs, “we should get going. I'm starving.”

“Not gonna lie, me too.”

“Must've been all the salty snacks last night,” he kids.

🏡

After you stop at the Kents', you set off for breakfast. The more you think about it the hungrier you are. You grow restless as you watch several options pass by, holding your tongue as Clark keeps driving.

You're surprised as he passes the city limits and you shift in your seat, craning to watch the sign pass. He clears his throat and turns down the radio, "almost there. Guess I shoulda mentioned it's all the way out here."

"Nah, it's fine," you shrug, "just curious."

"Really cute place, locally owned," he explains, "I prefer to give my money to an honest family business, you know?"

"Totally get it," you say coolly.

He taps his fingers on the wheel, as if he's restless or even agitated. He pulls into a gravel lot off the country road and you look up at the painted side. You passed this place with your parents a few times but never pulled over. It's a quaint brunch restaurant in a cottage-style house.

"Oh, this place," you chuckle.

"You been here?" He asks.

"No, but I've seen it."

"Right," he intones and clicks free his seat belt.

You free yourself of your own seat belt and climb out as he mirrors you. You let him take the lead and follow him to the front door. He holds it open and you enter ahead of him. You're greeted inside by an elderly lady.

"Good morning, may I show you to a table?" She offers.

You nod as Clark gives a vocal response over your head. She leads you to a table for two. You notice the place isn't very busy. There's an older man in the corner drinking coffee over a newspaper but no one else.

You sit as she introduces herself as Lena and promises menus. She shuffles away as you look at Clark who seems enamoured with the place. He admires the painting of flowers not far from your table and the lacy curtains around the front windows. It's cute but a bit outdated.

"There ya go, honies," she lays two menus on the table, her knobby hands shaking, "would you like coffee or tea?"

"Coffee, please, and..." he looks at you.

"Green tea, please."

"Coffee and green," she repeats, "lovely."

She hobbles away and you shift awkwardly in your seat. She must be the only waitress. In a place like this, you're not surprised. You just hope the food is decent, not that you can be picky.

"This place is nice," he muses, "peaceful."

"Yeah, it's interesting," you say as you pick up the menu. 

"I'm glad you got some sleep," he takes his own menu and browses it lazily, "glad I could be there to keep an eye out. Protect you."

"Ah, well, yeah, I don't think they guy would come back anyway but it did help," you give a small smile and settle on eggs benedict.

"Great," he puffs out his chest just a little. 

You peek up at him. It must be a good distraction for him. With Lois and Jonny gone, he needs something to keep him busy. You can humour him.

"Here ya go, sweets," Lena returns with a mug off coffee and a teacup on a saucer. She places both shakily and stands as straight as she can to ask if you've decided on what you want.

Clark lets you order first and you speak loudly and slowly to the woman as she cups her ear. She repeats it back to you before listening aptly to Clark. When she's done, she gives a soft clap and goes back behind the counter. She scribbles on a piece of paper and puts it in the window.

You glance over at the window, distracting yourself with the blowing grass. Somehow out here, you don't feel the same tickle in your sinuses. You sit back and cross your arms, watching the lazy blue sky.

"Oh, it's so romantic, a nice breakfast for two," Lena startles you as she appears again. She places a candlestick in the middle of the table then puts a wax taper in it. You can only stare and share look with Clark as she lights it, "you are so darling together. Is it a special occasion?"

"Uh," you bite your lip and look at Clark.

"Just breakfast," he answers as he throws his hands up, "spur of the moment, you know?"

"That's precious," she squeals, "you are such a beautiful pair."

"Thanks," Clark says and you just smile awkwardly.

She winks and leaves once more. You watch her cross the restaurant and sit with the old man and his newspaper. He lowers it as she whispers to him. You turn back and face Clark, leaning forward.

"I think she thinks we're together," you keep your voice quiet, "like a couple."

"Eh yeah, I didn't want it to be awkward," he shrugs, "no harm in it, really."

Your mouth slants as you consider his response. You guess he's right. What will it hurt? She's just a lonely old woman.

"What?" He tilts his head.

"Nothing," you answer.

"Really? I mean, I could correct her if it's a big deal--"

"It's not, really," you lean forward and cross your arms over the table, "just funny, I guess. Second time it's happened."

"It is?" He furrows his thick brows.

"Yeah, the ice cream guy..." you trail off, "whatever. Just... I'm kinda young but maybe don't look it."

"It's flattering, really," he insists, "people really think I could be with someone like you."

"Well, I mean, Lois is gorgeous," you laugh, "so..."

"Lucky man, surrounded by beautiful women," he grins.

“Oh, uh, thanks,” you sit back awkwardly, not expecting the compliment. You're nothing like Lois, love handles excluded, you still couldn't compare. You're just the babysitter. “Thanks, that's… you don't have to say that.”

“Well, you are,” he rubs his neck bashfully.

“Ha, yeah, well…” you clasp your hands in your lap and look again out the window.

As you watch the horizon over the dusty road, your heart roils in the tension. There's something nipping at your mind, just on the edge of your memory but you just can't grasp it. Is he just being nice or is there something more behind his compliments?

Don't be silly, he doesn't see you like that. He couldn't.

[jamespotterismydaddy]

Sailor Boy

tom bennett x reader

A/N: i haven't actually watched the show but i had this idea and really wanted to write it

WARNINGS: smut!, tom is a little pushy, size kink (if you squint)

WORD COUNT: 1,416 words

The knock at your window frightens you. Your parents are only two doors down the hall but you can’t imagine who would be climbing up to your window at this ungodly hour. 

Then you hear it, his voice.

“Open up, love. It’s bloody freezing out here.”

It can’t be.

You rush to your window, opening it up wide to see Tom Bennett hanging on with a playboy grin on his face.

“Took you long enough.” He teases as he climbs inside. You throw your arms around him right away.

“I didn’t think you’d be back for months!” You exclaim in a whisper-shout. Your father never liked it when Tom was sneaking into your room.

“Well i’m back early, doll. Wanted to surprise you.” He murmurs into your hair as his arms squeeze around your waist. Nothing has ever felt quite as good as having you in his arms.

“That’s why you didn’t respond to my last letter?” You ask. “God, Tommy. You had worried out of my bloody mind.” You look at him with sorrow in your eyes. “I almost let myself think you were dead.”

“I’m sorry to frighten you, love. You know I never meant to, but i’m here now.” He strokes your cheek with the back of his two fingers. He clearly means it.

“I never knew how much I needed my best friend.” You say mournfully.

“Thought about you every day when I was gone.” He whispers.

His fingers trail up and down your waist. “I thought about you every day too.”

“I barely got back an hour ago, wanted you to be the first person I saw.” His words make a blush rise to your cheeks.

“Explains the sailor uniform. You clearly haven’t washed it in a while.” You tease.

“You gonna talk to someone who served your country like that? You should be thanking me for my service.” He says with mock self-righteousness. 

“Thank you.” You say nonchalantly.

“That's it? I think I deserve a bit more of a reward than that.” He says as a cheeky grin makes its way onto his face.

“What kinda reward are you wanting, soldier boy?” You ask, sensing his innuendo.

“Just a little kiss, doll.” He replies and you roll your eyes before quickly pecking his cheek.

“Happy?”

“I meant on the lips, darling. You knew that.” He lifts your chin up with his hand and brushes his thumb over your soft lips.

“Don’t…” You pull your head away and take a step back. “You know i’m not your girl, Thomas Bennett.” He always knows he’s in trouble when you use his full name like that. He hates when you’re upset with him… but he likes teasing you more.

“I just want one little kiss, then i’ll leave ya alone.” He gives you his best puppy-dog eyes with his baby blues.

“Then go down to the bar and pick a girl there.”

“I don’t wanna go down to the bar when I already got the prettiest girl in England right in front of me.” He places each of his hands on your waist as he gazes down at you.

“You shouldn’t be such a flirt with your closest friend.” You murmur.

“You shouldn’t deny a navy-man his one wish after coming back from war.” He returns.

“We both know you won’t stop at one kiss.”

“I will if that’s what you really want.”

You think on his words for a moment, nibbling on your lip that he’s so desperate to taste.

“One kiss.”

He grins and you before pulling you closer with his strong hands and then lifting one so he can guide your head until your lips meet his. It’s nothing of an innocent peck. No, this kiss is much more. He pushes his tongue past your lips and in your hazy state, you weren’t stopping him. Tom knows he might not get another chance like this so he kisses you with all the passion he can muster, hoping that it keeps you coming back for more… but it all ends too soon when you push him away gently, just enough so he gets the idea.

“What’s wrong?” He asks in a low, almost drowsy tone.

“You promised.”

“I did… but I can tell you wanna kiss me more.” He looks at you with such desire in his eyes.

“I won’t be another notch on your belt, Tommy.” You say firmly.

“A notch on my belt? Is that what you think?” He looks at you, clearly upset. “Do you not know how much you mean to me?”

“You just… sleep with a lot of girls.”

“I don’t only want to sleep with you, love. You’re so much more to me than that. I wanna make you my girl.” He says earnestly, looking you right in the eyes as he speaks.

“But I just thought-”

“Doll, your letters were the only thing keeping me sane when I was away. A girl like you is no one night stand.”

“You really mean that?”

“Of course I do. Is that why you’ve never let me kiss you before?”

You feel yourself blush even harder. “Yeah.” Your eyes fall to the floor but he lifts your chin back up right away.

“Let me show me how much I love you.”

He waits for a moment until you finally nod. He then closes the space between your lips and kisses you with just as fervour as before. You whine into his mouth as his hands squeeze at your waist and before you know it, one of those hands is sliding up your skirt. You let out a gasp as he begins to rub you through the thin fabric of your panties. You never knew a man could bestow such pleasure.

“Mmm, Tommy.” You whimper out.

“You like that, pretty girl?” He rubs your pearl a little more firmly now. “Why don’t you take those panties off and lie on your bed for me?”

You climb back on your bed quickly and he smirks at your eagerness. You pull your panties off from under your nightgown and he lifts the hem of the garment so he can see your glistening cunny.

“Knew you wanted it.” He smirks before beginning to rub your pearl directly now. As he does, he uses his other hand to free himself from his trousers. His fingers slip inside of you now as he starts stroking his cock.

“I want you, Tommy… all of you.” No other words could have been more perfect for him to hear.

“This is your first time, right?” He asks slowly as he lines up with your entrance. 

You nod.

“I’ll be real gentle with you then.” He coos, pressing a kiss to your lips as he slides in. It does sting ever so slightly but nothing akin to pain even with how big he is.

“You can um… continue.” He laughs when you can’t seem to find the words.

“I’ll take good care of you, doll.” He murmurs as he starts to thrust in and out of you.

You’ve never felt anything quite like it before. You’ve pleasured yourself with your fingers before but it’s never felt this good. He seems to hit every spot inside of you that needs attention.

“You feel so good squeezing around me like that.” He praises as he picks up the pace. It feels like he’s fucking into you even deeper now.

“I like it, Tommy.” You whine.

“I knew you would, baby.” He presses fluttering kisses to your neck that contrast very nicely with how he’s pounding into you. He goes back to rubbing your pearl, wanting you to get as close to your peak as he is.

“I think i’m gonna…” You breathe out.

“Do it, darling. Cum for me.” He says and immediately notices how your walls contract around him. 

He fucks your hard through your high, until your squirming beneath him, and then finally pulls out to cum on your tummy, just below where your nightgown rests.

“You did such a good job for me. Made me feel so good.” He whispers as he collapses on top of you. You start to run your fingers through his hair. As much as you would like to savour this moment, you know you can’t.

“My parents will be up soon, Tommy. I can’t imagine how they’d react if they saw the state of us right now.”

“Five more minutes.” He grumbles into your chest.

You sigh. “Fine… five more minutes.”

taglist (comment to be added):General: @valeskafics @urmomsgirlfriend1 @girlwith-thepearlearring @darylandbethfanforever9 @lovellies @juhdoche @papichulo120627 @watercolorskyy @ophelialaufey @aerangi @ravenclawprincess33

[constantly0lost]

Okay I haven't written in literal months, but i was inspired by the little blurb about otter harvey at the bottom of @sashiavi 's goat Harvey post, so enjoy a ramble. Alot of my sleep tired brain escaped into this, sorry for how sloppy this is, i just wanted to vocalize my thoughts or my head would have exploded. I would carry 19 of Harvey's children if asked, peace.

CW: bit of a breeding kink, i reimagined/softened the mannerisms of otters during sex cause MAN, male otters SUCK, other otter things (harveys hydrophobic hair), lactation kink, me being a simp for this man, UHHh, shitty writing :)

Otter Harvey who gives you special things that made him think of you. From rocks to acorns to mushrooms to flowers to leave and so on, and being so blushy when he gives them to you, because its just acorns but it means so much to him. And he swoons when he finds out you kept them all.

Otter Harvey who holds your hand while y'all sleep, even though you're as close as two people can physically be without fusing together. He knows logically that you can't go anywhere, and even if you did, you'd be right back in his arms, but it feels so nice to have his hand on yours.

Otter harvey who eats sea urchins in secret, not because of someone finding out he eats them, but because he has to yank one out of Vincents mouth after he saw Harvey eating them, and he didn't want to cause anyone any extra undue stress.

Otter Harvey who has to take showers with slightly more intense temperatures so that he can actually wash his hair, otherwise it rolls right off of his hair. The only time he won't is when you take a shower with him, because he doesn't want you to be uncomfortable because of him, and even then, after you get out he'll change the temperature so he can actually get clean.

Otter Harvey who, if you end up having kids, is the best fucking dad. He teaches them literally anything and everything, and sits at the table responding to their toddler gibberish with full blown sentences. He takes them to school, plays anything they want, and is a total pushover sap for them, no matter what happens. (He is also 110% a girl dad)

Otter Harvey who bites higher up on you than he probably should, but he can't help it when you make him feel such mind numbing pleasure. So now you have hickeys on your cheeks, lovebites around your nose and mouth, along with all the marks he leaves along your body.

Otter Harvey who has such a rampant breeding kink that on "bad" days, he'd fuck you over and over until he's so drained he's lightheaded and overwhelmed, and he feels guilty for fucking you like that, even though he's still inside of your puffy cunt.

Otter Harvey who can't help but moan and whimper as he fucks into you, digging his nails into your hips as your pussy seems to suck him deeper, your walls clenching around him in a downright mean way as he bites and sucks anywhere he can get his mouth to.

Otter Harvey who often and loudly verbalizes how he wants to stuff you full right as he's about to cum, drilling the head of his cock harder into your spongy walls.

Otter Harvey who, when he gets jealous, will hold you down by your neck, or might even just hold you down by your hair, as he drills into you, harder than he normally would dare. His mouth turns downright filthy, spewing the nastiest words you'll ever hear in your life, as he hefts your leg over his shoulder.

Otter Harvey who can, will, and has spent hours buried with his face between your legs, looking up at you with those pretty eyes in search of your approval. He wants you to pull on his hair to guide him, wants you to pull until his scalp burns.

Otter Harvey who whines so damn pretty when you ride him, his cock kicking on your hand as he eyes roll back, his nails digging into your thighs. He mumbles whispered gibberish, which could almost be pleas, but are too garbled to fully make out.

Otter Harvey who will suck on your tits until you produce a few beads of milk, which he gratefully laps up and swallows like it's heaven on earth. Of course afterwards he gets anxious, wanting to make sure it's not galactorrhea, and wanting to make sure you're healthy.

Otter Harvey who would bend over backwards to make sure your happy, who would wait on your hand and foot so that you feel properly appreciated. He loves you, and knowing you love him back is all he needs.

FUCKING OTTER HARVEY IM GONNA RIDE HIM IN MY DREAMS TONIGHT AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH.

[baby-tini]

I know your requests are closed and I'm so sorry if I'm bothering you bit I'm not feeling the best mentally right and your writing is a big comfort for me. Again if you don't want too I understand, but could you write Dazai with a suicidal/depressed reader, he's a really big comfort to me, thank you!!!

Don't worry baby, you're not bothering me, and I'm so honored you feel comfortable enough too ask for something like this. My inbox and DMs are always open if you or anyone wants too talk, I'm so sorry you're feeling this way love, I completely understand, and I really do hope that you feel better soon.

TW- Suicidal Ideation, Mention of Self-Harm, Depressive Episode

-He knew. He knew when you woke up that morning not as affectionate or loving. He knew, when the past couple of days seemed extremely hard for you too get out of bed. He knew when he looked in your eyes and he saw the same yearning for death that stared back at him in his reflection.

-You didn't have too tell him, but when he asked you if you were okay and you just broke in his arms, he knew. He called out of work that day, not even letting Kunikida get a word in as he hung up the call and laid you down in bed, where he proceeded too spend hours with you.

-He wouldn't make you talk about it, he'd ask if you wanted too talk, and he'd listen to everything that you said, wiping your tears away as he pushed the wet sticky strands of hair that were glued to your cheeks behind your ear.

-If you did wanna talk about how you're feeling and how everything just felt so meaningless, like you were doing so much for nothing. He'd listen, he'd listen to every word that left your lips as he nodded and would give his imput or ask a question every so often.

-If you didn't wanna talk about it, he'd understand, he doesn't really talk about his feelings either so he'll just let you lay on him and cry into his chest as much as you need. Softly running his hands through your hair as he pressed soft kisses to the crown of your head.

-He'd keep an eye on you for a while. A couple months if he had too, even if he could tell that you were happy and were no longer having those thoughts and feelings. He can't afford too lose you, you're everything to him. So even if he has too stop going to work for a while, he will. If he needs too take days off work for you and comfort you, he will, if being around him makes you happy, just ask, he doesn't really care that much for paperwork anyway, he'll just ask Atsushi and he really could careless for the consequences. There's a lot of people at the ADA, other people could work cases. You need him and that's all that matters.

-He understands the ugliness of depression, so he understands how you feel, maybe not completely but he can relate quite heavily to the topic, so if you need him too wash your hair as you sit in the bathtub, he will. If you haven't eaten, he'll order something for you, if you're not hungry, he understands but you'll have too eat even if it's a little bit. Just a couple bites and he'll be satisfied.

-If you're someone who likes too, or prefers too be left alone, he understands, because he's the same way. He'll let you be, but he won't leave you alone, he's not comfortable with that. He'll check on you quite a lot, even if it's just an, "are you okay" or a, "do you need anything" that he asks through the door. He's satisfied because he knows you're alive and he can hear you.

-He doesn't mind when the room gets dirty, if you don't have the will too do laundry or too even get up too brush your teeth, he gets it. Especially if he's also in a similar headspace at the time and he doesn't have the mental strength too get up and clean. It'll be dealt with when you both feel better, that's the last thing on his mind as he lays with you in bed, in the quiet room enjoying your soft breath against his neck as he feels your chest rise and fall.

-If you're someone who self-harms and you partake in self-destructive behavior, he'll be more on you. He will not leave your side. He will take everything that could hurt you and he'll hide it. Now, he knows you're an adult and you're capable of making your own decisions, but he can't take any chances, one wrong... move and you could kill yourself, and like I said, he can't take any chances.

-If you take any medications, he'll be the one too give them to you, he doesn't want too make you feel like a child but he understands that when people are in that head-space, they make bad decisions and they're desperate for even the smallest bit of mental release so they'll make themselves feel physical pain, but he can't let you do that.

-If you become actively suicidal and try too attempt on your own life, he will hold you hostage of sorts. He won't tie you up or anything, but he will keep you with him at all points of the day, he'd go days without sleep just too watch you and make sure you're safe. You are no longer allowed too be on your own, he doesn't want you too feel worse by making you think he doesn't trust you, because all he wants is too make sure you're safe. You can cuss and yell at him- even hit him if you need too, but he can't and he won't take those chances.. not with you he won't- he can't.

[lucy90712]

heyy love your writing:>

Could you pls do clingy jude x fem!reader?

This season has been an incredibly long one so many games so many ups and downs but it has been a lot of fun. I have loved watching Jude blossom at Real Madrid and win trophies which he has very much deserved. The one big downside is that we haven't spent as much time as we would like together Jude is always away for games or at training and when he's not I'm at work and even now the domestic season is over the euros start in a few weeks so we are going to be apart again. 

Just yesterday Jude was at the champions league final which I couldn't go and see in person and now in a few days time he has to head back to England to join the England team. When I went to bed Jude was still at Wembley but now that I've woken up he's asleep beside me so he must've made it home at some point during the night. His arm was loosely hung over my waist as he slept soundly. I wished we could stay like this forever but I have work and I'm sure Jude has celebrations to attend later with the team. As much as I should get up I can go without breakfast and use that time to just lay in bed with Jude for a few more minutes, out of habit my hands went to his hair playing with it which woke him up. Once he realised where he was he pulled me closer to him and just held me tightly which is really going to make getting up even harder. 

"Good morning" he said in his morning voice which I love so much 

"Morning and congratulations you played so well last night I'm so sad I couldn't be there" I said 

"Thank you but don't worry I know you had work I'm just glad you're here right now" he said 

"I wish we could spend more time together you've got to leave me again in a few days and then I won't see you until the euros have started" I said 

"Do you have to go to work today?" He asked 

"I'm afraid I do there's a few others off this week and we've got a lot to get done" I replied 

That made Jude frown and hold onto me tighter. The time indicated that I should've got out of bed 10 minutes ago but I still don't want to leave and I don't think Jude will let me just yet. My routine is completely ruined but I don't really care as I love to soak up moments like this as they have been rare recently. As time went on Jude only held me tighter and started pressing kisses to my face and neck almost teasing me as he was yet to reach my lips but eventually he pulled me down to give me what I had been waiting for. I've missed Jude's kisses so much so I let him keep kissing me for a few more minutes before I pulled away and tried to get out of bed. Jude didn't let me get up I tried but he was just too strong for me to be able to break free. 

"I have to go to work love" I said 

"Do you really have to" he whined 

"You know I do" I said 

Jude didn't say anything else he simply just grabbed my phone from my bedside table and started looking for something which confused me until he put the phone to his ear. He had called my boss and phoned me in sick which had me laying there completely shocked. I never thought he'd do something like that just to spend time with me but I can't say I'm mad about it because I've missed him so much and I haven't had a day off in months. It didn't sink in for a few seconds that I really didn't have to go to work but when Jude put my phone down smiling I realised I could snuggle back into his arms for as long as I wanted to. 

We stayed in bed for a while until we were both starting to get hungry but before we could eat I wanted to brush my teeth. Jude joined me in the bathroom to brush his teeth too but he didn't let go of me even for a second he even stood behind me with his arms around my waist as I washed my face and did my skincare. Once I was done he picked me up and put me over his shoulder and carried me down the stairs which I would complain about but he used to do it all the time when we got to see more of each other so I just enjoyed getting to be like we used to. He took me to the kitchen and put me down and just stared at me which to others might seem weird but I knew exactly what he was asking. He wanted to order breakfast and I wasn't going to say no as I didn't really want to cook. 

I let him order whatever he thought I'd want as he usually gets it right then I suggested we make some fresh orange juice as for some reason we have a load of oranges that we definitely won't eat before they go bad. Jude got the juicer we have for whatever reason and I cut the oranges so they can go in the machine but I wasn't tall enough or strong enough to actually press the oranges into the juicer. I needed Jude to help me so he got the little step stool we have in the kitchen to help me reach things and put his hands on mine to help me push all the oranges through the juicer. We made a pretty good team and made a good amount at least enough for a glass for both of us which I poured while Jude answered the door as our food arrived. 

We ate breakfast before sitting on the sofa where we stayed for pretty much the whole day just cuddling and catching up on the shows we like to watch together but have become quite behind on. Both of us are normally quite active people and hate to sit around all day but I loved spending all day just cuddling with Jude and that's how I know we've both missed each other's company. Thinking about the fact that I'm just a few days we will have to be apart again made me so sad. I didn't realise just how much I missed him and our days together until we actually got to be together and now I don't want him to leave again. 

"Have you got work for the next few days?" Jude asked 

"Yeah sadly I really wish I didn't but if I want time off the the euros I can't take any more they will fire me" I said 

"You don't need this job if you want to work you can find another company to work for that is more flexible we never see each other as they always make you work overtime and extra days" Jude said 

"I know but my coworkers will end up with so much more to do and then I'll feel awful" I said 

"If that wasn't a factor would you prefer to stay or leave?" Jude asked

"I think I'd prefer to leave" I admitted 

"Then do it spend the summer with me and then look for a new job once the season restarts" Jude said 

"Are you sure I have some savings but not enough for a few months of not working" I said 

"I'm completely sure I can afford everything and I'd much rather you be happy and I want to enjoy the summer with you" he said 

"Then it's settled I'll hand in my notice later today and take the rest of my holiday to cover my notice period" I said 

Jude didn't say anything else he just kissed me and held me tighter. This definitely feels right and I can't lie that I'm really happy and relieved that I can spend the whole off season with Jude and experience pre season and the euros with him properly. 

[sissylittlefeather]

Kinktober Day 19: High Heels

Daddy Needs You: A Very Quiet Life Story

A/N: SURPRISE! Quiet Life Suburbs!Elvis is back! This takes place after the epilogue, but you don't need to have read the series to understand this, really. But if you want to, here's the link.

Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI, cussing, kissing, oral sex, penetrative sex, public sex

Word Count: ~2k

Kinktober Masterlist

Elvis comes home from the grocery store to find you on the couch in tears. Jane and Michael are in school and the baby is asleep. Little Lisa is almost three months old now, but you don't seem to be able to shake these baby blues. 

“Honey? Are you okay?” He sets the grocery bags on the counter and rushes to your side. 

“Yeah, I'm fine.” You wipe your face with your shirt sleeve and sniffle. 

“You don't look fine. Tell me what's going on.” He's noticed that you haven't really been yourself since Lisa was born. 

“N-nothing!” You hiccup and turn away from him, trying to hide your tears. He picks up your hand and kisses your fingers gently. 

“Honey. You're crying. Please talk to me.” He presses his lips to your palm and you turn to face him. His arms wrap around you and he tries to pull you into his lap. 

“Elvis, please.” He kisses your neck softly a few times. 

“Baby, I miss you. You haven't let me touch you in months. Won't you let daddy make you feel good?” You cringe as he tries to nibble on your earlobe. 

“Elvis, stop.” He pulls back and looks you in the eye. 

“Alright, then you're gonna have to talk. Come on.” He pushes a strand of hair behind your ear and wipes your tears away with his thumb. You finally decide you have nothing to lose. 

“I just don't feel like myself! I'm always tired and ugly and covered in spit up and none of my clothes fit. I know how I must look to you. And I'm just waiting for you to find someone else and le-”

“Nope. Stop. I understand you feeling tired. We've got three kids and one is a baby. I'm exhausted too. But I'm not gonna let you sit here and tell me that you're not pretty or that I don't want you anymore-”

“Elvis, look at me!” You stand up away from him to give him a good view of yourself. You're wearing his sweatpants and an old ratty t-shirt and your hair is thrown into a haphazard ponytail. You can't remember the last time you washed it. 

“I'm looking. All I see is my beautiful wife.” 

“I look like garbage!” He stands up and walks to you, putting his hands on your hips. 

“You really don't. But I can tell you're not gonna believe me, so I have an idea. First, we're gonna shower. Then, I'm gonna go get Mrs. Pottsboro from next door to watch Lisa and we're going shopping.” You groan. 

“Shopping? Nooo…” He nods and kisses your cheek. 

“Yes, shopping. This is not optional. Let's go.” He turns you to walk through the bedroom to the bathroom. 

You try to argue that you can shower alone, but he doesn't listen. Instead, he convinces you to let him wash your hair and shave your legs, pressing his lips to your skin at every opportunity. He doesn't push you into anything you don't want to do, but he encourages you to take care of yourself in a way you haven't done for a long time. When you get out, he blow dries your hair and sits on the counter while you put your makeup on, dropping sly compliments and kissing you as often as you'll let him. After you finish, you giggle a little and look in the mirror with him pressed up behind you and his chin on your shoulder. 

“There you are, baby. Do you feel a little better?” You nod and he kisses your cheek. “Good. So should we have sex now or-” 

“Elvis!” You pull away from him and hit him softly on the arm as he chuckles. He's kidding, mostly, but he really has missed making love to you. 

“Okay, okay. I'm going to go get Mrs. Pottsboro and then we'll go shop.” 

******

Your heart races as you walk into the department store with his hand in yours. It's been a long time since you've bought clothes and you know trying things on isn't always a great time. Hopefully you'll be able to find a few things without crying too much. After all, you're wearing all your eye makeup and you'd hate to ruin it. 

Elvis is determined to make this a positive experience for you. He makes recommendations of sexy outfits and whistles every time you come out of the dressing room. He's so over the top that you can't help but giggle and surprisingly some of the stuff he picks looks pretty good. At one point he shows up with some lingerie and acts like he's going to come into the fitting room with you. 

“Elvis, what-?”

“Well, I need to see it and you can't very well walk out there in that.” You laugh and touch his chest softly. 

“I'm not trying these on. Not here at least.” He raises an eyebrow and before you know it, his lips are on yours with his tongue slipping into your mouth. You feel your center get wetter and somehow you end up making out like teenagers in the store fitting room. As he grinds his erection against you, someone knocks on the door. 

“Only one person is allowed in the fitting room at a time.” He growls as you push him away, a cascade of giggles spilling out of you. 

“Let's go home.” He whispers and you nod. Finally, he tucks his erection up under his belt and then walks out of the fitting room. You gather your selections and the two of you make your way to the checkout counter. He grabs another set of lingerie as you walk and tosses it onto your pile. You roll your eyes and then he stops dead and you have to catch yourself and walk back to him. 

“What?”

“We're not finished yet.” You turn to look at what has caught his attention: shoes. And not just any shoes, heels. 

“Oh, Elvis. I have three children. I have no business-”

“Try these on.” He turns to you with his eyes shining like a kid on Christmas morning, a pair of pink patent leather heels in his hand. You can't resist him when he looks at you like that, so you purse your lips and take the pair of shoes from him, handing him your pile of clothes. 

“I'm going to look ridiculous. With these shorts and heels.” You grumble as you kick off your sandals and push your feet into the pink shoes. He inhales sharply and covers his mouth with his hand as you hold up your feet, admiring them. They really are very cute. 

“Stand up.” He almost whispers. You give him a shy smile and then stand up and walk towards him. His eyes are glued to your legs as you move. The curve of your calves, your shapely thighs, the way your ass is lifted, and your slender ankles that end in what he knows are your pretty little feet almost drive him over the edge. “Fuck.” 

“You like these, daddy?” You walk back and forth a bit, hitting some poses and spinning on one toe. He immediately notices that you've called him daddy and his cock twitches in his pants. The way he looks at you has your panties getting wetter and wetter. 

“Yeah…” He whispers breathlessly, trying to keep his breathing even. It's been so long…

“Elvis?” He shakes his head and looks up at you. 

“Yeah. Sorry. We need to go.” He grabs the shoebox, adding it to the pile of clothes, and takes your hand, practically dragging you to the checkout. He doesn't even let you change back into your sandals, pulling you through the store in the pink heels. 

You try very hard not to laugh as he chews his lip and shakes his leg the whole time the girl is ringing you up. She's trying to make small talk, and he doesn't want to be rude, but he's not sure how much longer he can wait. And you're right there with him, rubbing your thighs together in anticipation. 

“Alright, well, you folks have a nice day!” The checkout girl smiles and Elvis yanks the bags away from her and turns on his heel, dragging you with him by the hand. When you make it to the car, he shoves the bags in the trunk and then opens the back door. 

“Elvis, you're not serious.”

“Honey, I'm gonna cum in my pants if I have to drive home. Please. You do my laundry.” He's pulling out every argument in the book and you try to keep a straight face. But when he walks to you and presses his body against you, leaning down to whisper in your ear, you know your resistance is fading fast. “Daddy needs you. Now.” 

You don't even know how you get there, but the next thing you know you're in the back seat of the car with him on top of you, breathing heavily with your mouths moving against each other frantically. He yanks your shorts down, careful to keep your shoes on, and kisses your ankle on up to your thigh. Pushing your panties to the side, he licks a stripe up your pussy and moans softly. 

“Baby, you're so wet and you taste so good. I want to… but I need you… I can't…” You grab his face in your hands and look him dead in the eye. 

“Fuck me, Mr. Presley.” He groans loudly and moves up your body without another thought, ripping his pants open to free his aching cock. You whimper as he slips the head of his dick up and down your slit for just a bit before pushing into you slowly. 

“Oh, shit, honey. You're so tight.” He grunts as he fills you inch by inch. When he's filling you fully, he stops for a bit to let you adjust and then picks up a steady rhythm of fucking into you. 

“Oh, god, Elvis, fuck!” You yell and brace yourself on the seat as he pushes your knee up, holding your high-heeled foot in his hand. He pounds you steadily as he kisses your ankle again. 

“These shoes are so sexy, baby. God, you're so sexy.” You believe him as he slams into you over and over again and you dance on the edge of the first climax you've had in months. 

“Oh! Oh! Oh!” Your eyes roll back and you arch your back, moaning loudly as your orgasm rips through you, sending sparks out to your fingertips and back to your center as you pulse on him. The feeling of your release is enough to push him over the edge too and he grunts, crashing into you one last time as his hips shudder against you, filling you with his warmth. 

“Fuck, yes, baby.” He whispers through gritted teeth as he rides out his high, his hair dripping with sweat. You whine as he sits up in the seat, pulling you with him in his lap. He rearranges your panties and kisses you softly.

“Wow. That was…” You murmur airily. 

“Too much?” He looks at you with his eyebrows raised in concern. 

“Not at all. It was like the old days. This is the most I've felt like myself in months.” He smiles and kisses your forehead. 

“Honey, I'm so glad. I missed you so much.”

“I missed you too.” You kiss his lips softly and then a grin spreads across your face. 

“You really like the shoes, huh?” He laughs. 

“I think that's an understatement.” 

“Wait until you see them with just the lingerie.” He blinks a couple of times and then moves you off of his lap, running to get in the front seat. 

“Elvis, what-?”

“No time to waste. Daddy needs to see that right now.” You giggle as he throws the car in drive and makes his way home as quickly as possible. A lot has changed since you met, but you're now convinced that he'll never stop wanting you. Especially not as long as you keep a pair of high heels in your closet.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Taglist:

@ccab @atleastpleasetelephone @deltafalax @msamarican @angschrof @lustnhim @jhoneybees @polksaladava @searchingforgravity @librababe99 @hooked-on-elvis @theelvisprincess @makethemorning @your-nanas-house @peaceloveelvis @mrspresley69

[sluts4matt]

PARTY

pairing: soft!dom matt x mixed!reader

summary: after a long week, you intended on staying home and relaxing. your roommate; however, had different plans dragging you to a close friend's party.

warnings: SMUT, use of weed, nic, and alcohol, p in v, teasing, light choking, pet names (princess), orgasm denial, praising, slight embarrassment kink? (i think)

word count: 3074

authors note: i feel like this is kind of all over the place, i apologize, i haven't written in like a good month or two. not proofread or edited.

it had been a long day, work not going so greatly. that's why as soon as you walked through your apartment door you had greeted your roommate then went to your bedroom, pulling out a pre roll from your nightstand drawer.

you sighed, laying on your back, looking up at the ceiling, lighting the end, then inhaling deeply. the smoke left your lips, your eyes blinking a few times. you jumped at the quiet knock on your bedroom door, coughing slightly.

"it's open," you say. the door opened revealing your roommate naya, her red curls up in a messy pony tail. "bad day at work?" she asked, joining you on your bed.

you passed the joint over to her, which she accepted with a smile bringing it to her lips. "some chick ordered a triple shot expresso with caramel and white chocolate syrup, had me put caramel drizzle on top right?" you start and she nods.

"i repeat her order, she looks at the screen she's goes, yep looks good. then i go to give her the drink and she goes-" you take a breath before talking in a slightly snobby tone, "-'this isn't what i ordered, i need this remade right now' i looked at like, are you fucking serious right now?"

naya started laughing, passing the joint back. "so did you remake her drink?" she asks, "yeah, after arguing with her for ten minutes." you both laugh. "god, i hate being a barista sometimes," you state.

"wanna go to austin's party to take your mind off of work?" she asks. "i dunno, nay. i'm not in the mood to deal with drunks and people trying to make a move on me." you say. "then just stay next to aria the whole time, guys don't really approach her. come on please," she gave you puppy dog eyes, her bottom lip jutting out as she clasped her hands together.

"when was the last time you went to a party?" she asks, you think for a moment. "um, the one josh threw at the frat house that you brought me to." naya giggles, grabbing your hand, "sweety... i'm gonna hold your hand when i say this, that was almost six months ago." you snatch your hand away, giving her an annoyed look.

"that's a lie, we were at a party for channing's birthday two months ago." you defend, "birthday party's don't count, neither do family reunions or get togethers," she points out.

"oh god fine," you sigh. naya squeals, wrapping her arms around your waist. "oh my god thank you!" she says excitedly, "okay go, we gotta get ready," you say, shooing her away. she sticks her tongue out, getting up and walking out.

you stand up, going to your closet to pick your outfit out. once you find your clothes you put on your shower cap and hop in the shower, washing your body. after you're finished you wrap a towel around your body, going back to your room to get dressed.

you slip on the outfit, pairing it with a pair of black thigh high socks and some black mary janes. you take a comb through your hair, getting out most of the knots. naya knocks on your door as you go to apply your eyeliner, "come in."

she opens the door, she had put on a pink crop top and high waisted jeans, she had her hair down and her curls were bouncy. she was holding her black boots, "i'm stealing some of your eyeliner, can't find mine and lord knows you have enough."

"okay," you mumble, consentraiting. she walks up, opening the drawer and grabbing one of the many felt tip liners you had. she sat on the floor, looking into her phone camera, as she applied the eyeliner.

you grab a pink lip liner from your drawer, lining your lips before putting some lipgloss over them. you smack your lips together, to coat the two evenly, smiling at yourself when you were done. you pulled the look together with a pair of hooped earrings, grabbing your silver side bag.

"let's go!" naya says excitedly, grabbing your hand and leading you out the door.

the two of you hopped into the uber that she had scheduled while the two of you were getting ready. the car ride was filled with naya talking about the cute boy who works at the grocery store near the apartment.

"like, i didn't realize how much i liked green eyes until i saw his, they're like emeralds, really they are," she swoons, you chuckle, shaking your head.

"we're here," the uber driver states. you open the car door, walking in. "the party's here," she states loudly, gaining the attention of austin talking to a group of three boys who all looked relatively the same.

he looked over, smiling widely, waving his hand in a motion to come over. "omg, i'm glad you guys' could make it," he says, sporting a glittery sheer top and sparkly silver eyeshadow.

"i'm not sure how long we're staying, we're just stopping by for a little bit," you say, austin gives you a fake pout. "no fun, excuse us," he states to the three boys dragging you and naya to the open bar.

"lets take shots," he says, naya eagerly nodding her head as he grabs a tray with glittery shots on it. "i'm good," you say. "no, sweetheart, we're doing shots," he says, pushing one towards you.

"fine," you mutter, picking the shot glass up. "on the count of three," he says, "one, two, three," the three of you all bring the shot glass to your lips, downing the shot. the liquid burned as it went down your throat. you shook your head slightly, "rookie," naya giggled.

"i'm gonna go find aria, don't die," you say, "have fun!" austin and naya shout after you. you weave through the crowd, looking for a head of pink and black striped hair. you bumped into someone, stumbling slightly, "sorry," he mumbles as you look up.

it was one of the guys austin had been talking to when you and naya first got there. you smiled slightly, "all good, it was my fault anyways, wasn't paying attention," you state.

"matt," he says, sticking his hand out, you smile slightly, taking his hand, "y/n," you state, shaking his hand. "are you looking for someone?" he asks. "uh yeah, aria?" you ask, he looks at you slightly confused, tilting his head slightly. "shorter then me, black and pink hair," you describe, "tattoos, like, everywhere except her neck and face?" you ask.

"oh! she's over there talking to chris," he points to the back of the room. "thanks," you say, going the direction he pointed to. you pushed past people, finally finding the short girl.

"hi!" you shout, the two turn to look at you, "there you are," aria states. "who's this?" chris asks, "my wife," she states loudly, he chuckles but looks slightly confused. "you wouldn't get it," she explains.

"you okay?" she asks, "yeah, fine, just need to take the edge off, i guess," you sigh. she pulls out a pre rolled blunt, lighter and a vape. "i love you," you sigh, taking the strawberry kiwi vape from her acrylics.

she hands the lighter to chris, "light," he does as she asks, bringing the lighter to the blunt that was between her lip. she inhaled, holding it in for a moment, then blowing it out. she passed it to you, earning a smile from you.

"work fucking sucks, why'd you quit," you playfully whine, a pout on your lips as your bring the blunt your lips. "because i would have ended up hitting that bitch of a manager," she states. you exhale the smoke, handing it back to her.

"she's not that bad anymore," you state, "i call bullshit," aria says. the three of you stood, smoking as people pushed past. "i'm gonna go find matt," chris says, "okay," the two of you respond in unison, causing you and aria to break out into a fit of laughter.

"god, i can't believe it's been six months since i worked at that hell hole," she states. "yeah fuck you," you giggle. you remember the day you had met aria, you were both just starting at the local cafe, quickly bonding over the fact that you two were the newbies.

after working together for a couple of months, she had introduced you to austin. austin then introduced you to naya, who quickly became your roommate. the four of you had grown quite close, always spending time with each other.

"lets go dance," she squeals, dragging you towards the center. the two of you began swaying and jumping, the music blasting through the speakers. chris had joined soon after, dragging matt with him. you giggled at the brunette haired by slightly watching his attempt to move his hips to the beat.

"white boys got no rythum," aria states, her hips swaying. "no shit," chris says, moving his shoulders. "oh god," you and aria giggle, shaking your heads at their terrible attempts at dancing.

"like this," aria instructs, her hips moving as her hands run over her body. you do the same, letting the music take over your body. the two of you danced like no one was watching, not that you cared.

the music was blasting and the air was heavy, the room smelled like alcohol and sweat, but at this point you didn't care, you were having too much fun.

you jumped slightly when you felt a pair of hands being softly placed on your hips, "is this okay?" matt whispers, his breath fanning your shoulder blade. you nod, leaning back, placing your hand behind his head, playing with the strands. you felt his thumb slowly moving in circles, causing your heart to speed up.

when you look towards aria, you see her arms wrapped around chris as she giggles at something he had said. the two were in their own little world, the rest of the party seeming to disappear.

your hand raked through matt's hair softly as you moved your hips, feeling his grip tighten. you bite your lip, "so," you state, "how'd you get roped into this party?"

"nick and chris, glad i let them rope me in though," he mumbled. "why's that?" you ask, looking down slightly. "because then i would have missed this," his breath tickling your neck.

you felt your cheeks heat up slightly, your head slightly tilting involuntarily. his lips gently brushed against the crook of your neck, leaving feather like kisses. your breath hitches slightly, closing your eyes.

"come on," he says, pulling back taking your hand as he leads you out the front door to his car. "get in," he says, opening the passenger door. "what are we doing?" you ask, slightly out of breath.

"star gazing," he says, putting the car in reverse and backing out of austin's driveway before putting it in drive and driving it to one of the parks that wasn't visited very often. "actually?" you ask, slightly hoping he wasn't serious about star gazing.

"do you not want to?" he teases, parking the car. he looks over at you tilting his head, one of his hands still on the wheel. you raise an eyebrow at the boy you've known barely two hours, your arms crossing. "what?" he asks, his tone playful.

"you know what," you state. "no, i don't, maybe you should tell me," he says, a small smirk spreading across his face. your eyes narrowed, your thighs squeezing together.

"oh?," he states, his head cocking to the side. his hand finds its way to the side of his seat, sliding it back. "well what do you want to do then princess?" he asks, his arm going behind your seat, turning his body so that his body was facing yours.

your mouth gaped open slightly, not knowing how to respond to the sudden change in attitude. "come on, words," he chuckles, his lips curling into a slight smirk.

"i-," you pause, not knowing what you were about to say. "yes?" he questions, his arm resting on the back of the chair. "i um," you mutter, looking at him with big eyes. "kiss me," you whisper, biting your lip.

"good girl," he praises, his hand coming up to cup your cheek. he pulls you in, his lips brushing against yours, causing butterflies to fill your stomach. his lips molded to yours perfectly, moving in sync.

his lips were soft and warm, your lips parted slightly, allowing his tongue entrance. his hand moves down to your throat, his fingers wrapping around. his other hand moves to your hip, guiding you over the center console to his lap.

your hands run through his hair, tugging lightly, causing him to moan slightly. you feel him buck his hips slightly, pushing up into the thin fabric of your underwear. you gasp slightly, giving him the perfect opportunity to slip his tongue in.

you feel him smirk slightly, his hand leaving your throat, traveling to each of your shoulders. his fingers slipping the thin straps down your shoulders. his lips leave yours, kissing down your neck, causing you to tilt your head slightly.

"so pretty," he mutters, his hands pushing the fabric down your chest. his head dips, his tongue swirling around your nipple. your breath hitches, your hand moving to his hair, your fingers threading through.

he groans slightly, his hips pushing up into you. "matt," you breathe, his teeth grazing your nipple. you feel him smile against your skin, his fingers tweaking your other nipple.

"fuck," you whine, tugging at his hair. "you want more?" he asks, his hand sliding up your leg to the bottom of your skirt. "yes, please," you whine. his hand slides up your skirt, his fingers pushing aside the fabric of your underwear.

his finger traces your clit, teasing you. your thighs shake slightly, causing him to chuckle, "desperate." you roll your eyes, your fingers tightening their grip on his hair. his hand wraps around your throat, the metal of his rings cold against your neck as he squeezes lightly.

"be nice," he whispers, his finger slowly circling your clit. "or what?" you challenge, his eyes narrow. his fingers speed up, a breathy moan leaving your lips. his fingers work you, making your eyes roll back.

"matt," you whine, pushing yourself down onto his fingers, "fuck," you whisper. his fingers continue working your clit, your breathing becoming uneven.

"you close?" he asks, his voice laced with lust. you nod quickly, your hips rolling. his fingers slow, stopping right before you reach your high. "no, no, please," you whine, your hips bucking.

"awe, does someone not like the consequences of their own actions?" the boy mocks, his hand still holding your throat. "no, please," you whine, looking at him with pleading eyes.

"you think just because you give me the puppy dog eyes i'll give you what you want?" he chuckles, jokingly bouncing your body. you nod your head, a pout forming on your lips. "please," you whimper, your hips trying to push into his hand.

"begging, pretty," he smirks, his fingers starting to circle again. you whine, the coil in your stomach tightening. his fingers speed up, pushing you barely over the edge before stopping again.

"matt, no," you whine, his hand moving from your neck to your shoulder. he pushes you backwards, your back hitting the steering wheel. his hands go to the button on his pants, undoing it before unzipping them. he lifts his hips from the seat slightly, pushing them down to his knees.

his boxers were a light grey, a slight wet spot showing on the front. he palms himself through the fabric, moaning quietly. his other hand goes to your waist, moving your body so that you were directly over him. he pushes his boxers down, moving the fabric of your soaked panties to the side.

he pushes the tip in, moaning. you whine, feeling his grip on your waist tighten as he pulls your body down. "fuck," he curses, his head falling back. your hand grips the back of his seat, his length filling you.

you start to move your hips slowly, moaning softly. his fingers dig into your hips, helping guide your movements. his hips thrust upwards, meeting your slow pace.

"god, you're so pretty," he mumbles, his head tilting up to look at you. his thumb moves down to your clit, rubbing fast circles. your head tilts back, "fuck, i'm gonna cum." "not yet pretty girl," he says denying you, once again.

your hand moves to the top of the seat, the other gripping his shoulder as your hips begin to stutter. "matt, i can't," you whine. "hold on for me, your doing such a good job," he whispers, his hand leaving your hip, tangling itself in your hair.

"fuck, you feel so good," he moans, his hips picking up their pace, slamming up into you. the windows had fogged up, the air in the car humid. he brings your lips down to his, kissing you harshly. his tongue slips into your mouth, his teeth lightly pulling on your bottom lip.

"cum," he states, his thumb moving faster on your clit. the coil in your stomach snapped, causing you to let out a moan, pulling away from his lips as you buried your face in his neck. his hips slammed up into you a few more times before he pulled out, jacking himself off, his cum spilling on your thigh.

"fuck," he whispers, his chest rising and falling. "fuck," he repeats, reaching over to grab a napkin from the glove box. "shit," he mumbles, wiping the cum off of your thigh, throwing it in the backseat.

he lifts you up slightly, pulling his boxers and pants up. he grabs another napkin, cleaning in between your thighs, throwing it in the back.

"did you have fun?" he asks, looking up at you. you giggle, nodding, "yeah?" he asks. "do you want food?" he asks, your head tilting slightly. "what?" he asks, chuckling, "like, did you want to get food, or would you like me to take you home," he clarifies.

"i could go for a burger," you state. "burger king or five guys?" he asks, "five guys," you respond. he smiles, fixing the strap of your top before pressing a soft kiss to your lips.

tag list:

@hysteria-things @tillies33ssss @soimightlikeoldmen69 @sturniolossss @freshsturns @etvar12 @sstvrnioloo @junnniiieee07 @sturnioloa @chrryclouds @sturniolhoe @sturniolowhore @imwetforyourmom @novasturniolo03 @spencerstits @junovrsmp4 @breeloveschris @skyslondon @stars4chratt @monkeyscientist22 @sophssturn @hearts4chriss @l5ka @sturnlovr @blahbel668 @sturncakez @livvy4realll @raysmayhem-72 @jnkvivi

[rickssugarplum]

Rick Returns

After a much too long hiatus, I have finally made a new Rick fic. Wow. A lot has changed since my last fic, but I want to thank all of you amazing readers who have been so patient. Please forgive me if my writing is a little rusty. Thanks again and excited for Season 7 tonight! ❤

(Rick C-137 x Reader) SFW-, Swearing, Hurt/Comfort, Missing Someone, Season 6 Spoilers, 1,900+ words

Rick comes to see you again after a long time. And you find some changes in him.

    *************************************************

It had been too long. Far too long. You hadn't heard a single word from Rick in what felt like a lifetime and were still wondering what the hell went wrong. It seemed to have happened out of nowhere. One day, everything had been fine, and then suddenly, he all but disappeared. He didn't come see you anymore; he wouldn't call you up, not even a single text. At first, you started to think an adventure went awry. Then you started thinking something was really wrong, but you weren't sure what. Is he on a new planet? Did he have to do a high-paying mission? What if he's hurt? Or could he be dead? With how things are now, he might as well be. He started to become a series of bittersweet memories now. You did everything you could to try to forget him, but that was pointless. Rick Sanchez wasn't a man you can just forget, no matter how hard you tried. Many tears were shed, and many thoughts crept into your mind. If his leaving had nothing to do with his space-traveling lifestyle.

Did I do something wrong?

Did he find someone else?

Was I...not enough?

Many months had passed, and you were certain the blue-haired scientist was out of your life forever.

Close to midnight, you were in your bathroom washing your face and getting ready to sleep. As you enter your bedroom, about to lay down in your bed, you hear a sound you thought you would never hear again—the loud warp of a portal.

Immediately, your heart sped up rapidly as you wondered if you were hallucinating. But when you saw a young brunette boy in a yellow t-shirt, you were completely puzzled.

".....Morty??"

You were worried he was here to tell you really bad news about his grandfather. But you had no time to even ask what was happening before another figure broke through the portal. A figure much taller. The silhouette of his spiky hair caught your eye immediately.

It was him. He was here. Rick was back in your room.

His eyes were fixed on you right away. There was almost a determination in them. Yet he also looked unsure.

"Thanks, Morty. I'll take it from here." He motioned the kid to the portal, presumably back home. The boy took a worried glance at both of you before turning back through the portal and disappearing. Now it was just you and Rick. Looking into his eyes for the first time in forever, all the pain came back crystal clear. And the source was right in front of you.

"Bab-"

"DON'T. YOU. DARE. 'BABY' ME."

Rick shut his mouth and understood right away. You were not going to let him off so easily.

"You son of a bitch." You spat at him.

"I know you're mad, and I-"

"Mad!? You ghost me for months; I haven't had even one measly fucking text, and you think I'm mad!?" You interrupted. "I didn't know what the hell happened to you! All these months without any contact from you. Nothing."

Rick stayed silent. He had no argument to make.

"At first, I just thought, 'Oh, he's on a big adventure with Morty! No biggie!' Or had a run-in with an alien mob or something, and it would just take a bit longer to get back to me," you explained. Looking back at Rick, he was rubbing the back of his neck, his eyes looking down to the floor. But you knew he was still listening.

"I was starting to think you were dead." You confessed, trying to keep yourself together.

Rick took in a deep breath before he answered. "I owe you an explanation. All I ask right now is that you'll let me give you that," he requested.

Goddamnit. Just hearing his voice again is painful.

"I thought you were done bailing on people," you said bitterly.

Rick interjected, "Hey, don't start with that." You watched him grab his flask out of his lab coat and take a sip from it.

"Why? Truth too much for you? Does the great Rick Sanchez actually have a kryptonite?" you mocked.

Rick put his hand over his mouth, keeping himself quiet as you let out everything you suppressed inside all this time.

"You told me you'd never leave me behind. No matter where you'd go, you would stick around." You scoffed. "I was really fucking stupid to believe you."

Rick was starting to get agitated. This was not how he pictured this playing out.

"Ugh. Look, I didn't come here to argue."

"No. You want to smooth everything over so I can do any favors you'll want. Bet you never even thought about me all this time. Out of sight, out of mind, right?"

"It's not like that!" he argued. The nerve of him "Why wouldn't it be? It's the same ending to every chapter in your life, Rick. You'll never change."

He winced. That one stung a little. You knew some of your statements could hurt him, but you were too angry to care. Part of you wanted him to see how it felt to be let down by someone you've given your heart to.

"You left an entire dimension after destroying it."

Rick was losing his composure. "Don't."

"Left your family on a tiny planet when the world was going to shit."

He didn't want to hear any of this. "Stop."

"You left Morty to be with some fucking crows."

"Knock it off," he warned.

"Or what!? Are you gonna leave again?" you challenged. "I was starting to accept the fact that you wouldn't come back. What would stop you now?"

"That's not what I meant!" he argued.

"Why would I be so special that you wouldn't bail again? You've done it your whole life. Starting with your own wife and daughter!"

Rick lost it. "I DIDN'T LEAVE MY WIFE AND DAUGHTER!" he shouted. His hands tangled in his hair, and his eyes squeezed shut.

That stopped you dead in your tracks. Confused, you stepped closer to him. A soft gasp escapes when you see that his face has now become wet with tears.

"Rick...?" you said softly. All the rage you previously had inside you has now completely evaporated. This new shift startled you. He was not someone who openly broke down. Nor would he tell such a lie while doing so.

If he didn't leave them, then why weren't they ever with him? Unless his wife took their child and left him, or if they had...

...........

No.

A new feeling is integrated into you: guilt. You were starting to pick up all the tragic pieces together. The heartbreak was plain to see on Rick's face as he trembled in front of you.

In that moment, the source of all his demons became more clear than ever before. He had truly suffered the worst kind of pain.

"Oh...Rick...." Your voice cracked. The distance between you both closed as you wrapped your arms around him. He accepts them immediately and holds on tightly.

"I'm so sorry..."

His face is buried in your neck. To shield his face, or more to just feel you again, it didn't matter. Right now, he needed this. Stroking his baby blue hair, you had almost forgotten how soft it was...

"Rick...I'm sorry...I had no idea..." you said in shame, thinking back to everything you'd said to him before. Now, he had every right to be mad at you. But his first response you received was a soft, gentle kiss on your neck, making you lightly shiver.

"It's haunted me for many years. Consumed most of my life," he confessed. Lifting his head up, you see his face. His eyes were red, and his cheeks were damp from his hurt flooding out of him. Your thumbs gently brush away the tears under his eyes. "I...thought I had finally could have a new chance to find some stability, be with a family, but...something did come up...and it all came flooding back..."

Your brows raised at that.

"So...that's why I haven't been around."

You still weren't entirely aware of the whole story. But one thing was certain: When Rick Sanchez is consumed by something, he gives his all into it.

"I'm such a fucking idiot..." you blurted out, shaking your head. "I thought...you had just gotten bored and moved on from me..."

Rick interjected, "Oh no, baby no..." He pulled you back into his arms, placing your head on his chest. His heartbeat soothed you as you took a deep breath in and out.

"You weren't the only one I hurt here... I-I had kept Morty out of it all too..."

A sigh escapes you. "He's such an amazing grandson to you," you mutter.

"Yeah...but he's not my grands-"

"Yes, he is." You interrupted. "It doesn't matter where you came from or where he came from. He's been there for you through everything and seen you at your worst. And the fact that he came here tonight with you just to make sure you were okay shows me that he still cares about you despite everything. I know he wouldn't want any other Rick. And you wouldn't trade him for any other Morty. You are his grandpa, Rick."

His arms hold you a bit tighter, a silent 'thank you' for your encouraging words.

"Did he tell you to come talk to me?" you wondered.

"Uh no. I, uhh, hooo boy...You won't believe it when I tell you," he warned you awkwardly.

"What?" You didn't know what or who else could convince him to do anything.

"I...was told I should see you by...my uhh...therapist..." he finished, rubbing the back of his neck.

Your eyes bugged out in shock. "A therapist!? You're seeing a therapist!??

He scoffs "Okay, you really don't have to rub i-" His sentence is cut off by a surprise kiss on his cheek, leaving him a little startled. "Oh, Rick. I'm so proud of you," you say sincerely. It's as if hell had frozen over. He really has changed.

"Yeah, she's, uh, she's alright," he admits with a small smile. "She also told me to tell you what I needed to say, so... I'm sorry."

Your vision starts to get blurry with tears. Those two simple words from this man mean so much. Cupping his face in your hands, you give Rick a small smile before leaning forward and pressing your lips to his. Your arms wrap around his neck, never wanting to let him go. He holds you close when he kisses you back with a little more desperation. He hasn't been kissed by you in so long.

When you finally break away to breathe, you look into his eyes again. This time, they look more serene. As if he feels some shred of peace for the first time in... he can't remember when.

"I've missed you..." you whispered. He pressed his forehead against yours.

"I missed you too, baby..."

With that, every shattered piece of your heart had been put back together. There was more he needed to share with you, but the emotional reunion and the fact that it was late at night left you exhausted. But you were going to sleep much more peacefully with the eccentric man resting beside you once again.

After all these painful months, Rick was finally back. He's changed in some ways, and you were looking forward to seeing how these changes would guide him to a better path.

Because, no matter what happens, you will always love him.

❤

[sweatervest-obsessed]

I Should Probably, Probably Not

Pairing: Steve Harrington x fem!reader

WC: ~2.3k

TW: swearing, mentions of sex, making out, definitely pg18, mdni, poor decisions, bar bathrooms

A/N: this song is so Steve post breakup and I legit couldn’t not write it. Hope y’all enjoy it!!!!

Haven't heard from you in a couple of months But I'm out right now and I'm all fucked up

“Robin. Robsssss.” You tugged on her sleeve. Your shirt revealed a bit more cleavage than usual, and your hair had been done up for just one last hurrah before you became a senior in college. The gang had all decided to go out, bar hopping, but after the first bar, you all ended up going to your favorite bar and staying there anyways. You were sitting in your usual booth, all six of you, well would be seven, enjoying the last night of summer together. 

Steve opted out of the night, which you were more than happy about, really. Steve had broken up with you at the start of summer, citing his internship as taking up most of his time and distance would be too hard, as if your almost two year relationship meant nothing to him. But whatever, it’s fine, who cares about him anyways. You do.

“What babes.” Robin took another sip of her beverage and looked at you, cheeks flushed with tequila and rum. 

“I have to pee and I don’t really wanna crawl under the table or go alone..”

Robin giggled slightly. “I was just gonna ask if you wanted to come with me!” 

“Fucking mind melded we are.” The two of you touched your foreheads together before bursting out into laughter. 

“Stop, stop I’m gonna pee my pants.” You were trying to catch your breath, Robin looking anywhere but you because if she did, she’d laugh again. 

“Bathroom Robin! Go go go.” The two of you hopped up, grabbing your phones and heading towards the bar's bathroom, doing your best to keep your laughter to the occasional giggle. It wasn’t gross in there, but you tried to touch minimal surfaces.The two of you sat in the stalls next to one another, talking about whatever came to mind, and when you went to wash your hands, your phone in your skirt pocket buzzed. You pulled it out to look at who was texting you. 

And you're callin' my phone, you're all alone And I'm sensing some undertone

“Oh my god.” You said, unable to stop the gasp you let out.

“What what what.” Robin leaned against you, peering over your shoulder. 

“Steve texted me.” You whispered. 

“What did he say.” Robin answered back in a whisper. 

Your phone started ringing and you dropped it on the sink. “FUCK. Robin. What do I do??”

“Don’t answer him.” 

“But—“ 

“Don’t do it.” 

“You’re not my mom.” 

“Don’t—“

“Hello?” You had picked it up on the last ring. Robin shot you a glare, peppering her hand along with your mouth, making fun of you. Her face made you giggle a bit. You heard him exhale your name. 

“You picked up.” 

“Is everything okay?” 

“Yeah baby.” 

You rolled your eyes, trying to pretend like the nickname didn’t make your mouth a bit dry. Robin assumed it was for her and stuck her tongue out at you. 

“What’d’ya want Steve?” You hummed, 

“I‘ll text you my new apartment’s address. You should come over.” 

“I’m drunk, not stupid Steve. If you wanted to see me then maybe you should’ve come out with all of your friends tonight.” You hung up, giving Robin a small little smirk before the two of you headed back to the table. 

“What a douche.” She muttered, holding the door open as she left. She missed the way you bit your lip and looked down at your phone. 

And I'm right here with all my friends But you're sending me your new address

Steve texted you his address anyways, and you liked it, telling him that you’d be there in twenty. 

It was only a three minute walk, lucky you. 

You were sitting at the table, now on the edge of the booth, listening to Jonathan’s new ventures while Nancy was telling Robin about some cute girl that came in while they were in the bathroom. 

You sighed, content, finishing up your drink, enjoying the company of your friends, but fifteen minutes passed by painstakingly slow, and Robin watched as your interest drifted away. 

She was correct in assuming the text from Steve had made you reel into your own mind, but she was wrong when it came to how upset you were about it. 

“I think I’m going to call it first guys.” You smiled at them, slamming down five, five dollar bills—leaving first meant you paid the price for it. 

Robin gave you a quick smile and handed you your coat. 

Your goodbyes were quick and filled with promises of seeing everyone tomorrow since you saw each other almost every single day anyways. 

As soon as you were out of the bar, you took in a breath of fresh air before sending the text. 

“omw” 

And I know we're done, I know we're through But, God, when I look at you My brain goes, "Ah" Can't hear my thoughts (I cannot hear my thoughts) Like blah-blah-blah (blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah)

This was not your smartest moment, but you were drunk, you were horny, and you were still in love with Steve Harrington. 

And Steve doesn’t do distance well, you knew that, but you weren’t expecting him to ask you for a break over the summer since you thought Steve loved you the same way you loved him.

Steve. 

Steve. Steve. Steve. 

Nothing but Steve. 

Not a single thought in your head was about anything other than Steve. The ways his eyes would rake over you, that stupid infectious laugh of his, his easily pullable hair, the kisses on your forehead, his fingers grabbing at your soft thighs, the pretty little sighs that left his pretty little lips—your body shivered the more you thought about him.

You chalked it up to the cooler air outside since it was almost midnight. 

Should probably not I should probably, probably not I should probably, probably not

One singular moment of doubt entered your head as you made it closer to his apartment. Only one moment. 

“This has to be such a bad fucking idea right?” You mumbled. But no one answered.

Seeing you tonight It's a bad idea, right?

“Think of the consequences here babes.” You sighed, pulling out your phone, realizing you missed a text from Robin:

"let me know when you get home babe!"

You sighed and liked the text before opening your notes app, a pros and cons list has just got to help...right?

Seeing you tonight It's a bad idea, right?

Pros would include:

Sex. Obviously. If one person was good at making you feel like a goddess, it was Steve Harrington. That man knew how to work your body like a violin, just to get you to make the sounds he wanted. You hooked up with someone a week after the breakup to try and get your mind off of him, but not only did you not orgasm, this bitch was a minuteman. 

Steve’s Arms. No explanation needed. 

Seeing Steve after a couple of months. You missed him, of course you missed him. Falling out of love is a difficult process and while the post breakup glow up is real, and beautiful, you couldn’t help but wonder how it affected Steve. He was one of the prettiest people you had ever met, so why wouldn’t he get even hotter? 

Steve’s Hair.

Being able to see Steve and be held by Steve. God you were desperate, it felt embarrassing. 

Seeing you tonight It's a bad idea, right?

Cons:

Seeing Steve. Obviously. That was going to wreck you. If you go and see him right now, you might never be able to get over him, and while you wanted to be under him, this might be a bad idea. 

Learning to not settle for good sex because making someone else make you cum is clearly more difficult that you truthfully wanted to deal with. High expectations for sex is technically good, but not when your ex was an Adonis who literally was addicted to eating you out…that’s something you might never be able to let go of again. 

….

Seeing you tonight Fuck it, it's fine

More Pros than Cons. Clear winner in your eyes. 

Yes, I know that he's my ex But can't two people reconnect? I only see him as a friend (The biggest lie I ever said)

It’s not like he said to come over and rekindle your relationship. You’re just…hooking up, friends with benefits. God you were a booty call for him. 

You haven’t seen him since May, since he broke up with you. At least he had the decency to do it in person, before he left. What a great guy. 

You're not sure who you're trying to lie to, but it doesn't stop you anyways.

Now I'm gettin' in the car, wreckin' all my plans I know I should stop, but I can't And I told my friends I was asleep But I never said where or in whose sheets

You double checked the numbers on the brownstone with the text he had sent you, confirming you were standing outside the right place. 

You shot Robin a quick text, hoping she wouldn’t notice that you got home too quickly this time. 

“About to get in bed! Kiss kiss bitch” 

“Sweet dreams babes ;) <3” 

“You have no idea.” You mumbled, walking into the apartment complex once you had been buzzed in. 

And I pull up to your place on the second floor And you're standing, smiling at the door And I'm sure I've seen much hotter men But I really can't remember when

“Missed me Harrington?” 

“How could I not, gorgeous.” 

“Who let you get hotter. Certainly wasn’t me.” You smirked at him, still feeling the liquid courage you had downed earlier. He looked good. You could spend all night eating him up, and you were going to. His tan was back, freckles along his face, and probably arms and back--you were surprised you weren't drooling when you looked at him.

“I could say the same for you. That’s a good look on you, how come you didn’t dress like that for me.” 

He was looking at you and you simply couldn’t decipher which emotion he was feeling. You saw lust, front and present, but there was a wave of something that kept flashing through. 

“You never asked.” You crossed your arms, grateful for the shirt you had chosen for the night, watching as Steve tried to give you the decency of pretending like he wasn’t staring at your chest. “Gonna make a girl stand in the hallway Harrington or…?” 

Seeing you tonight It's a bad idea, right?

Steve took one step forward and pulled you into him, lips on yours. You could melt right then and there, letting out a soft moan into his mouth. He tasted like bourbon and smoke and chapstick, plus something you never could figure out—Steve. He tasted like Steve. 

Your hands were around his neck, yanking on his hair, earning a moan matching your own. 

His hands on your waist, pulling you flush against him, as much contact as possible. Sparks flew off your skin when his fingers pushed your shirt up slightly, giving him the skin to skin contact he desired desperately.

Seeing you tonight It's a bad idea, right?

After about thirty seconds of making out like teens in the hallway, you moved your hands to his chest and shoved him lightly, making him stumble back a bit. His grip on you tightened, causing you to stumble into his apartment with you. 

“Feisty.”

You rolled your eyes at his antics, but your mouth betrayed you curling into a slightly smug smile. 

You were enjoying this, maybe too much. 

Seeing you tonight It's a bad idea, right?

You kicked the door shut with your foot, kissing Steve again, wanting to get as much out of this as possible because you don’t know what comes after this. But that’s a later, sober you problem.

Steve moved his mouth down to your neck, swearing up and down how beautiful you were, how he couldn’t get enough of you, how much he fucking missed you. 

He lightly bit your neck, sure to leave a bruise in the morning, but you didn’t care, not even remotely. He sucked on another spot, knowing it would elicit the sigh he wanted. 

You felt a finger tap your ass and you took your cue, hopping up onto his kitchen counter. You’ll make it to the bedroom eventually. 

Seeing you tonight

You pulled away for a second. Steve’s eyes were lust-blown, lips kiss bitten and puffy, hair messed up from your hands tugging at it. 

“Should we…” You mumbled, watching the way his eyes flickered up and down from your lips repeatedly. “Do you…”

“Y/N. I swear to god. Just kiss me.” He mumbled, lips back on yours, sparks cascading to the floor. 

You got the memo.

Not a single bone in your body regretted your decision. 

Fuck it, it's fine