#i want to pick him up and toss him around | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

courtingchaos · 2 days ago

Text

Feast

Pairing: Eddie x Reader x Steve, past Eddie x Steve (set in my Line Cook Eddie AU)

Word Count: 9.8K

Summary: It’s a Graveyard Lake House Smash 🎃

A/N: When I tell you Woof, I mean WOOF. I don’t want to tell you all how long I’ve had this sitting in the crockpot. It’s surprising it didn’t turn to ash. Instead I got this! Struck by what I can only describe as mania I was able to finish this and edit it all with the help of @jo-harrington . Now I have many many MANY people to thank for this even being an idea for me to play around with and I won’t fill this page up with a bunch of tags. Those of you that were there for its inception know and that’s what matters. Talk about a fucking labor of love. I pulled this out of my own viscera, I hope you like it ❤️ (Also, reference is made to the fic Strawberry if you guys want to go look at that smut too, but it is not needed.)

Warnings: Drug use (cocaine, weed), Drinking, DVP, Unprotected sex, Sex while under the influence

NSFW 18+ No Minors

“Oh this is cute.” The flyer invite is bright orange and full of Eddie’s little doodles.

“Yeah? You like it?” Eddie leans over your shoulder. “Made it all by myself.”

“You even signed it, look at you.” You grab his chin and give it a wiggle before he plants a kiss on your cheek.

“Obviously we’re invited. I’ve got my costume all planned out already.” He heads into the bedroom and misses you pulling a face.

“Well I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but I won’t be there.”

His head sticks out around the doorframe, “What?”

“Yeah, too many requests off. I gotta close.”

“Okay? You’re off at what, 9:30?” Eddie waves you off before disappearing in the bedroom. “I’ll pick you up and we can be to Steve’s by 10, 10:30. Piece of cake, piece of crumb cake.” He does his best Father Guido from inside his closet and it makes you laugh.

“I’m gonna be tired, Ed.”

“And I’m gonna have weed.” He reappears with a different hoodie on.

You huff. “I don’t have a costume.”

“I’ll find you one.”

“I hate bagged stuff!” You aren’t really arguing with him, just pushing his buttons enough to see where his exasperation will take him. It sends his arms over his head while he goes headlong into all the costumes you could put together with the shit in your own closet.

“So no bagged stuff! You could pull off a Nancy Downs or a Sidney.”

“Will you go as Stu?”

Eddie stands like he’s upset with you, arms crossed and voice dropping low for a moment. “You know damn well I’d have to go as Billy. Plus,” he flits his hand beside his face, “like I said I already have my costume.”

“You won’t tell me?” You don’t even fake your pout. “I need help with an idea! Come on!”

“It’s a surprise!” He shakes your shoulder and when you don’t stand he hauls you up by your hand so you can finally run errands for the day. “Look, when we’re done at the store I’ll help you dig through your shit and piece something together.”

By store he really meant every shop in town with a Halloween section and only a quick run into a grocery store for mac and cheese. One of your last stops is at a Party City where you’re staring at the wall of masks feeling a little dejected. Halloweens haven’t felt fun in a while and this one was shaping up to be just as disappointing. You’re eying one of those big articulated scarecrow masks when Eddie comes bounding up to you with a clutch of cellophane in his hands.

“I figured it out.” Is all he says before practically skipping back the way he came, right into the latex and spirit gum section.

“Ed I don’t want to do a whole thing, especially if I can’t wear it at work.”

“No this is easy shit, it goes on like a temporary tattoo.” He holds one of the thin packs up against your face before shaking his head and tossing it back on a hook. Another one he’s been clutching skims your cheek and his eyes light up. “No this is perfect.”

“You gonna let me in on this little secret?” You crane your neck to see what he has. “Is that a pentagram?”

“Do you still have that cheer skirt?”

You think you might know what he’s getting at. “The black and red one?”

He nods his head and picks up a packet of ‘fresh’ colored blood.

“Yeah.” And with that he’s off down the aisle again, beelining for the color coded tailgating section.

“If they have them in stock—hell yeah.” He holds up a red and a black pompom. “Cookin’ with fire now.” His grin is infectious.

“You know I don’t have any costume contacts, right?”

Eddie’s ‘pshh’ is so self assured. “With this it won’t matter.” He points at the pentagram transfer. “See? I told you I’d figure it out.”

In the small bathroom at work you feel only slightly ridiculous.

It’d been a few Halloween’s ago that you’d worn this skirt and now it’s a little more snug, sits a little higher on your thigh and hugs your stomach a little tighter. The cropped tee doesn’t leave much to the imagination and the thigh highs feel a little like overkill.

It’s cute, objectively. You know it but you still spend a little too much time staring at the back of yourself as best you can, making sure your whole ass isn’t out on display. A soft knock on the door reminds you of your faithful coworker waiting on you to finish up so they can run off to their own plans.

“Sorry, one sec!” You shove your work clothes into your tote bag and give yourself one last hard stare. “You’re gonna be fine.” You say with some finality to your reflection, black press on nail tapping on the glass.

Outside Eddie sits in his truck, idling next to your car and you take your sweet time strolling over to him. His eyes glint in his side view while the rest of his face stays obscured and you wonder just what costume he’s put on, right until you catch the tilt of his head and you see what sits there. Your pace quickens and you have to hold the hem of your skirt down when you all but run across the parking lot, stopping at his open window to stare at him wildly.

“Oh no, you did not.”

He most certainly did.

The cigarette clenched between his fangs glows in the dark cab, shimmering lips pulling into a smile around the filter. “Do what?” He asks like he has no idea what’s on his body. The run of chains around his neck clink and catch the light of the street lamps. From under his curls the tips of pointed prosthetics peak out, gold rings pierced through the latex. The matte red body paint lays in a thin layer on his face and just barely down his neck, his chest on full display under his barely buttoned black shirt.

“Not the Bard.” His hands glint with more rings than normal, jeweled gold he’d picked up at last year’s Ren Faire. You catch the black claws stuck to his nails and he laughs at your shocked expression.

“What’s wrong with my Bard?”

You gesture wildly at his whole being and you haven’t even started to look up at the horns on his head. Long red ones that curl against his crown, gold chains dripping off the curves. Painted bands shimmer just like the gold on his lips and you almost open your mouth to cancel your plans.

Eddie clicks his tongue at you like he’s read your mind. “Hop in quick, it’s like a 45 minute drive.”

You huff, hands still anchored on the window while you gawk at him. His make up is perfect, his clothes thrown on too easily. There’s a smokey scent that lingers, something not from his cigarette, and you wonder if he got into your perfume oils; Incense and wood fire swirling around him. He taps your knuckles to get them off his door and when you go to walk around the bed of the truck he just whistles at you, nodding his head towards the hood.

“No no, give me a little preview.”

You almost don’t give in. The doubt is trying its hardest to claw up your back but you ignore it and let the headlights cast your shadow on the building. Eddie’s delighted laughter rolls from his open window and when you get into the truck his hand finds the exposed swath of thigh above the socks.

“Told you it’d come together.” A firm squeeze and a straying pinky when you twist around to set your bag in the backseat, the soft pads of his fingers grazing higher under the hem of your skirt.

“You like it?” You sound a little unsure, like he wasn’t the one to lay the outfit out for you to give your seal of approval. It isn’t like you need his constant validation but it feels nice to let him ogle you every once in a while.

“If I didn’t have promises to keep I’d be taking you straight home.” He leans in toward you, careful of all his pieces and face paint, lips close but just out of reach.

“The quicker we get out there, the quicker we can get home.” You try to bridge the distance but Eddie pulls back, another sharp grin aimed at you.

“You should finish your makeup before we get there.” He taps the glove box before leaning back into his seat. “I saved you something for the ride over.”

He keeps his hand in place the whole way to Steve’s. Even when you pull out the joint he rolled for you, in the fun striped papers you’d shown him weeks ago. You relax and try to get your eyeliner done first before you’re too high to care and when you’ve finally put your bag away Eddie becomes your sole focus.

His hand might stay firmly planted but yours don’t. It starts off easy enough, plucking at his necklaces and pendants, letting them fall back on each other and clink. A twist of a ring on his free hand and pulling at the bracelet warmed by his wrist. You run a light finger along his pointed ear and you don’t miss the slight shiver that runs down his neck.

His neck.

You drop that hand and trail the tip of your fake nail over his skin to pull up goosebumps, carefully avoiding smudging any paint. He lets you drop a peck or two but he’s serious about not messing up his makeup, “at least not yet.”

Since you’ve been denied a treat, you pull lightly at his collar so you can nibble on his shoulder. Fingers trailing down the wide open valley of buttons, your other hand dancing across his lap to scratch at the seam of his jeans.

“You’re terrible.” He admonishes you but it’s all for show, if he was serious about you taking your hands off him he wouldn’t have grinned at you like that.

Halfway out of your seat and draped over the center console is how you spend the last half of your drive, an earring between your teeth while you distract him just enough to swerve a few times.

The lake house emerges along the horizon suddenly, almost like you’d been distracted by the button on Eddie’s jeans. The gravel crunches under the tires down the long drive and orange, green and purple string lights help direct you to the actual house.

Steve’s family’s lake house is a mimic of a rustic cabin, one big peaked roof and a massive back deck that wraps around the side. It looks like someone pulled a giant A-frame directly up out of the ground, Halloween decor and all. You stare up at it surrounded by trees, the big windows flashing intermittently with light, music thumping dully out into the sleeping nature.

“Whoa.” Actually you loose all focus of what’s in Eddie’s pants as you finally grasp the size of the property and the crowd outside.

“See? Could have missed all this if we’d just gone home.” Eddie parks and unbuckles himself so he can twist around carefully for the bag in the back. “Now sit still, I gotta put your pentagram on.”

That pulls your attention back to him, especially when he sets a water bottle down first. He peels the transfer apart and you watch him silently, lulled by a full work day and the haze of weed. He’s right, it does go on like a temporary tattoo and when a drip of water falls between your breast you giggle.

“Making a mess already?” You hold the edges of your cut up collar away so you don’t get it stuck and Eddie just shakes his head.

“Are you gonna be like this all night?”

“Do you want me to be?”

Eddie’s hand is flat against your chest to hold the prosthetic in place so you know he feels the uptick of your heartbeat. It’s close and cozy in this cab, close enough that you can see the corner of his mouth twitch and the crinkle of his light crows feet. His eyes drop from your chest to your cleavage and you lean in a little more, push your arms in a little tighter.

“Can I have a kiss?” Whispered just between you two. “Since I’ve been so good tonight.”

He hums, lips pursed, and checks on your pentagram instead. The paper lifts and his hand moves away and you follow him, lips leading to the golden shimmer you’ve been eyeing. It’s quick but it’s what you wanted, just a little more of his attention on you.

He huffs when you pull away. “See this is why I wanted to wait.” His thumb rubs against your chin and he pulls it back to show you the smear of red. “Now you’re marked.”

You think if you can crawl into his lap right now he might abandon this deal tonight. He looks at you from under hooded eyes, eyes that linger on your bare skin. There’s a moment when he takes a deep breath you think you can maybe break him with a well placed purr of his name but—

“Eddie!” The rap of knuckles on the window makes you jump and with it the spell breaks. Robin is waving at the two of you, grinning wide and unknowing of what she’s done. “You guys look great!” Her voice is muffled by the glass so Eddie opens the door and starts his personality up for the show.

You figure out that Robin has gone as Weird Barbie and you love it, especially because she’s obviously a few Malibu and Pineapple’s deep and she keeps you slung close while she directs you and Eddie around.

“Jon and Nance are Beetlejuice and Lydia.” She points in a vague direction of the house where you see neither of them. “Lucas and Max couldn’t make it because they’re doing the ‘parent thing’ obviously.” Her air quotes almost make her spill her drink and Eddie takes it from her with a sigh.

“It’s not even midnight yet, Rob.”

“Hush! I don’t actually know what the hell Dustin is, I think it’s a chemical compound.” She says out of the side of her mouth, gesturing at Eddie to give her a sip from her solo cup. “Will is an amazing Orville Peck, he made his own mask! The fringe is so long!”

You laugh at her pointing at meaningless areas, no one being where she thinks they are.

“And where’s our host?” Eddie asks, scanning the heads outside.

“Oh he’s been so lame. You know, he slapped a name tag on an hour before the party and called it his costume?” Robin looks so disappointed. “I offered to make him a Ken three months ago and he acted like I’d insulted him.”

“Well what’s he wearing? I’d rather him not blow up my phone.”

“Black hat, backwards like an asshole. Red sweater.” Robin drops you off at the doorway into the cabin and snatches her drink back from Eddie. “Name tag says ‘God’.” She leaves you with a heavy eye roll before slipping into the masses.

A quick schmooze around the open downstairs and you’re finally left to your own devices, drink secured in your hand.

“Now don’t go running off without me, okay?” Eddie puts a stern finger in your face and you snap your jaws at it. He ignores you. “I’m serious, meet me up in the loft.” He points the same finger upwards and you nod wordlessly. “Hopefully this shouldn’t take too long and we can go hang out on the dock.”

You frown. “It’s kind of cold out.”

“Oh no.” Eddie waves his hands at you, feigning being distraught. “I guess we’ll have to cuddle, oh no!”

You flip him off as he walks away and he blows you a kiss and immediately you begin timing him to see how long it will actually take him.

You don’t recognize anyone here. Maybe a few people from Stacy’s, some of the line cooks and waitstaff, but no one you can start a conversation with that wouldn’t end up feeling awkward. There’s the obvious close friends of Eddie’s but even they aren’t as known to you and even so, you’ve spotted them chatting with other people already. You sip on your drink and you sigh and resign yourself to waiting it out.

Leaning on the bannister of the loft you look down and spot Eddie animatedly telling someone something, his jewelry sparkling in the flashing lights. His voice carries sometimes, even in a party like this and you watch him with amusement. It doesn’t take long to loose him though and you pull your phone out to distract you, just before a flash of maroon catches your eye and you turn to find Steve looking surprised with two cups in his hands.

“I was trying to sneak up on you, how did you know?”

“I bet you’re one of those guys who doesn’t say ‘behind’ at work, aren’t you?”

“Oh no, I learned my lesson there.” He sets the drinks on the bannister and pulls up his sleeve to show you a silvery scar near his elbow. “That’s where I took a parring knife around a corner, I don’t fuck around in there anymore.” He laughs.

“Was it Eddie?” You ask like you already know the answer but Steve shakes his head hard.

“No, some other dude but Ed did yell at him for walking around with a knife held out in front of him. ‘What are you trying to do, shiv him?’” He puts on a face that you correctly guess is an imitation of an angry Eddie.

“Aw, did he look out for you?” You reach out and pinch Steve’s cheek and he swats you away, his ears flushing a bright red.

“Speaking of, where is he? He has my weed.”

“I don’t know, I lost him in the masses.” You gesture at the crowd below just as the music and lights change, making it darker and harder to make out a detail.

“Shit.”

“Shit indeed. My high is wearing off and there are too many people I don’t know here.” You finish off your drink and Steve is holding up one of his cups to replace it. You raise an eyebrow in question and he just swings it at you so you’ll take it.

“I saw you up here, thought I’d bring you a drink. Didn’t know how long you’d been here.”

Something about his expensive smile always makes you want to giggle. You know that he’s aware of his charms but even then you can’t help how easy he makes it. The flattery is always there, especially if Eddie is around, and if you didn’t know any better you might have the sneaking suspicion he was flirting.

“All by my lonesome?” You shake your new drink at him and he rolls his eyes.

“Not like that, I brought two in case Ed was up here.”

He’s always flirting actually, you think it might just be an integral cog of his makeup at this point. You’ve seen the way it slips into the most innocuous conversations with Eddie, though he’s always trying to banter.

You drop the sly accusatory look and shrug. “Good luck. I was told to stay put till he came back.”

“Or, and hear me out, we could go find him together.” He says it like it’s the best idea he’s ever had and honestly? You look around at the sparsely populated loft and check the time on your phone, noticing you’ve already wasted half an hour doing nothing.

“I’m in.”

An hour of wandering and you haven’t run into Eddie again. He didn’t ditch you, far from it. You know your blood covered boobs and incredibly short skirt wouldn’t leave his mind but you do know he how he loves to talk. Someone must have gotten him on a kick and he’s been passed around through groups, his storytelling making bursts of laughter float up from different corners of the party.

“Did he really tell you stay upstairs?” Steve asks, shouldering through a group with a short wave.

“Yeah, but he looses track of time at parties. You know how he is.” You’re a few drinks deep now so any annoyance has burned off, especially since Steve has been nice enough to walk around with you. The view from behind while you followed wasn’t bad either. It makes you smirk and you hide that in your drink, your wandering gaze following his long legs.

One more inside lap before you both stop at the kitchen island covered in bottles to top up and Steve finally calls it.

“Wanna go sit outside?” He nods his head towards the back deck. “Quieter.” He heads for the wall of windows where people filter out to sit by the water. You weren’t kidding earlier when you said it was chilly and you really hadn’t thought to bring a sweater with you for some reason. Steve notices you hesitate though and seemingly understands. On his way to the door he lifts the seat of a bench up and pulls out a blanket.

Water laps at the deck softly and the chatter dies down finally, the music a distant thump and you feel a little sober taking in the fresh air. Steve holds up the corners of the blanket for you and when you don’t immediately move in he shakes it at you.

“I’m not gonna bite.”

“Aw, really?” It slips out before you can catch it. To Steve’s credit he takes it in stride, barely breaking a grin when you finally snatch the blanket from him. He digs around in his front pocket for a moment and pulls out a crumpled pack of Marlboros. There’s one already tucked behind his ear and you’re about to remind him when he holds up a slim joint.

“I know this is a sad offering, but you want?”

As if on cue there’s a peal of laughter followed by a big splash and you step closer to Steve on the dock to get away from the rippling water. “Jesus, please.”

He eyebrows twitch up and he points lazily at the name tag. “Actually it’s God, but same-same.”

He pulls two Adirondack chairs together and you slide back into one remembering to keep your knees together so you don’t accidentally flash Steve. He holds the joint out to you with his lighter and you gasp theatrically.

“And a gentleman at that!”

It takes a few strikes to get the beat up bic to light and you can feel Steve staring. At first you think he’s judging your lack of finesse but when you go to hand him his lighter his eyes snap up from your legs, a tight smile flashed at you before he holds his hand out to take the joint back. He keeps the conversation light, he tells you about what this lake house used to look like and how much his parents sunk into it to remodel it. He makes small talk seem fun when he frosts his words in charm and you remember the last night he’d been particularly plucky with you.

“I.D.?”

“Steve it’s me.”

“Can’t trust it, gotta see I.D.” He shrugs and holds out his hand and gestures at you when you don’t make a move for your wallet. There’s not even a hint of a smile on his face and you wonder if maybe he’d gotten in trouble for giving you so many free extra pours.

“Okay, okay fine here.” Behind you Eddie is deep in conversation with Jeff about switching a shift and hasn’t noticed the third degree yet. When you finally get the plastic slipped out of your wallet Steve snatches it and leans back with it held up close to his face. He studies it like he’s never seen you or an I.D. before and he keeps flicking his eyes back and forth between it and your face.

A nervous grin breaks out of you when the situation isn’t changing. “Steve? Did I do-“

“There it is.”

“What?” You laugh through your confusion.

“I just needed to see that smile.” Steve hands your card back and slides your drink across the counter with an easy grin.

The high is returning and with it the questions that slip easily from your brain and straight out of your mouth. “Can I ask you something?”

It takes Steve a moment to tear his eyes away from the surface of the lake where it reflects the string lights. “Yeah, what’s up?”

“Remember a few weeks ago when you did the thing with my I.D.?”

His eyebrows scrunch together hard when he tries to piece together what you’re saying. “Your I.D.? Did I loose it?”

You flap your hand at him to try to get him to remember. “No no, the smile thing.”

“Oh!” It dawns on him, his glassy eyes widening. “You like that? That’s one of my better ones.” He seems proud of himself for a pick up line.

“Were you just trying to piss Eddie off or do you just flirt with everyone?”

“Honestly?” Steve scratches his chin lightly, staring back off into the lake’s glassy surface. “I really like messing with Ed. He trusts you so I like to push his buttons.” He shrugs. “Also I do flirt with a lot of people, it gets me good tips.” His laugh makes his eyes crinkle and it makes you think of Eddie.

You take a break to find the bathroom, and to scan for your boyfriend, and when you come up without him you grab two beers from the massive cooler and head back outside. Steve seems a little more alert than when you left him and he points to a space under the deck where two people are cloaked in shadow.

“See that?”

You lean your hip into Steve’s shoulder to balance yourself as you squint, two things becoming harder to do especially together. It isn’t until a wig gets tugged off and both of you gasp, finally realizing that Robin has found a different Barbie. She tugs at Robin, hauling her towards the boathouse and Steve starts laughing.

“Should we help her or…?”

“Nah, she’ll find me in the morning.” Steve sighs and runs his hand up the back of your thigh.

Hm?

You run that feeling through your cotton stuffed brain again. The back of your thigh, the part that is so very bare and just under the hem of your skirt is hot, skin sticky where a palm sits now. It’s wide and a little rough and his fingers give a quick squeeze to the fat there and then proceeds to sit still. You move slowly, your head dropping down to stare at Steve’s easy posture.

“Steven?” You ask slowly.

“Hmm?” He looks up at you with not even a twinkle in his eye. If he were to move his thumb just the slightest bit up he’d be grazing the cuff of your ass and you wonder if he can even feel the sudden heat rolling off you.

“What’s that you got there?” You don’t break eye contact with him.

“Something soft.”

The giggle escapes before you realize it and something in Steve’s features shifts into what looks like pride. You don’t forget where you are so much as you take the bait and turn towards him, leaning down so you’re close to his face and can see the light dusting of freckles on the bridge of his nose.

“I think,” you whisper and cast an exaggerated look around, “you’re tying to get a rise out of someone.”

“Oh?” His cheeks flush, just a tinge of pink that catches your eye.

Steve’s head goes back with a tug of his backwards cap.

“Harrington.” Eddie makes his grand reappearance, seemingly stepping from the shadows to stare down at Steve who stares up in dumbstruck awe.

You’d noticed horns approaching when you’d leaned down and maybe it was the combination of liquor and weed but something bold had taken over, especially when you knew you had Eddie coming to swoop in.

“Finally finished your rounds? I’ve been waiting.” Steve asks your boyfriend, who keeps the bill of the baseball hat between his knuckles.

“You finally finished feeling up my girl? I’m waiting.”

You don’t expect that, the warmth in his tone. The little chuckle, the joking grin. Something about Eddie taking this on the chin makes you pay attention.

“Oh what’s a thigh between friends, huh?”

You can hear the edge in Steve’s voice now, the push to Eddie’s pull. That palm stays firmly planted on you while the two men stare at each other. It’s like they’re speaking in silent code, cats flicking their ears to get their point across. Eddie seems to give in first with a small shrug, letting go of Steve’s hat though his head remains lolled back to stare at the red demon above him.

“Is this imposter bothering you?” Eddie gestures at the peeling name tag stuck to Steve’s sweater and you think about it, honestly.

Where you are right now, is it bothering you?

The hand cradling the back of your thigh, is that bothering you?

The way Eddie seems to be reading your mind, his eyes bouncing between your own and the smile you just realized is warming up your face, does that bother you?

“No.”

This feels like earlier in the night. A heavy hand anchoring you to the moment. A little buzz from your warm high. You’re listening to Eddie smooth talk Steve but all you want is something tactile. Eddie crouches down so he’s eye level with Steve and they lean into each other to conspire, you’d know that look on his face anywhere. It’s one he’s shot you over countless drinks and through crowds and at dinner with friends. He’s got his mind set on something.

He’s too far away though for you to absently run your fingers through his hair so you grab the next best thing. The fringe sticking out from under Steve’s hat is so soft when you rub it between your fingers. Little flips of sun bleached brunette that curl up under the brim and around your finger, twirling between your press ons.

“How is your hair so soft?”

Eddie tilts his head just as Steve slowly turns to look at you with a confused smile. “I spend a lot of money on conditioner.”

“What’s it made of, spun silk?” You drag your nails up the back of his head and he shivers.

Eddie looks downright gleeful. “I told you.”

“Told him what?” Distracted by Steve letting his head fall into your palm you miss Eddie shooting his friend a look.

“How are you feeling?” Eddie asks suddenly. “You still wanna head out?”

“No.” You scratch Steve’s scalp and watch him melt down into the lounge chair. “This is fun.” His hand finally sides down to wrap around your thigh, holding you against him.

“Well Steve has told me something very interesting.”

“What’s that?”

“He’s got a little surprise I think you might enjoy.”

“Oh?” You grab a handful of hair and give Steve a light tug. “Did you bring me a gift?”

“It’s for all of us, actually.”

2 am and the party continues outside the heavy door to Steve’s bedroom. No one blinks an eye when you pull Eddie through the doorway minutes after Steve disappears in there. Not even a knock when Eddie kicks it closed and spins you around to face him.

“You sure about this?” He asks quietly, walking you backwards into the room.

“Absolutely.” You grin, nodding at him.

“Positive?” He holds your gaze to make sure you know he’s serious. Your hands clamp around his face and you pull him in close.

“Yes Eddie.”

Steve’s solid chest bumps into your back, the sweetness of his cologne bursting around you.

“You got it?” Eddie looks past you to ask Steve.

Steve huffs. “Yeah I got it.” He moves around behind you, digging something out of his pocket and his knuckles drag over your ass before his hand appears around you with a little twisted bag between his fingers. “You wanna do the honors?”

“Oh please, it’s your party.” Eddie plays with the hem of your skirt but he watches Steve untwist the bag. Eddie gives you a peck when he catches you trying to turn your head, pulls at your hips to make you face Steve and that self assured grin is present when Eddie holds you still.

“You ever done this before?” Steve asks when he holds up the baggie, eyes dropping to your lips.

“Uh, once. Didn’t really like it.” You watch him work while Eddie stands behind you and runs his hands right up under your skirt. He laughs into your neck and his breath slides under the ripped up collar of your t-shirt. “I don’t think I was with the right people.” You stare at Steve while he dips his index finger into the powder.

“You’ve never done this together?”

“Nope.” Eddie answers for you, his face peeking into your periphery. “Strictly a weed and liquor household, like god intended.” His laugh sends a zap through you, slowed and tingly against your current high. “Isn’t that right baby?” His hand sneaks up under your jaw where his fingers press into your cheeks making your lips purse and part slightly. When Steve’s fingertip grazes your bottom lip you open wider and both men laugh.

“Eager.” Steve says before his finger pushes past your lips and rubs down the side of your gums. The taste is an immediate bitter tang followed by the salt of his skin and you grunt quietly, closing your lips around him. “You’re telling me she’s not a natural at this?” Steve looks past you to Eddie, ignoring you tonguing his finger.

“Not with coke, but she’s real good with things in her mouth, aren’t you?” Eddie’s hand runs down the front of your throat and you hum in agreement. Steve’s finger pops out of your mouth and dips back into the powder, swirling around while he watches from half lidded eyes Eddie kissing along the back of your neck.

“One more.” He promises with a smile and when his finger dips into your mouth again you start to feel the tingle along your gums, something that dances up along your cheeks and zips through your hairline. It fights against the sluggish feeling of the weed and lights up a part of your brain that was trying its best to stay focused through the liquor. Steve is eyeing Eddie while the latter pushes up your shirt, an exchange again made through glances. Steve barely gets his finger out before his mouth is on you, his tongue pushing past your lips to chase your new high.

He’s so warm everywhere. His lips against yours and his chest pressing in and his hands that go right for your jaw those long fingers in the strands at the nape of your neck that give you a shiver up your spine and Eddie must feel those goosebumps when they sprout, they appear so fast and right under his lips and—

“Hey,” Eddie says, turning your head to the side “take a breath.” He breaks your kiss and you whine at the missing warmth of Steve’s soft mouth. “Yeah I know.” He soothes, running a thumb down your cheek. “You still gotta breathe.”

You roll your eyes and take a deep, dramatic breath to show him you still can. Beside you Steve sniffs off the back of his hand before he attaches himself to the side of your neck. His tongue trails over your pulse and Eddie holds your gaze and your chin before he leans in to kiss you.

The coke makes you less hazy, takes the soft edge of the weed and brings it into focus. The feel of Steve’s lips moving up your neck and Eddie’s fingers around your chin. His tongue in your mouth and his other hand slowly tugging up your skirt and Steve’s big palms running up your sides. You can hear the thump of the music outside that feels like it’s trying to keep up with your heartbeat.

There’s a hand pulling at your shirt, pulling it over your head and a hand running up the side of your neck and you hold onto the front of their shirts. You have the distinct feeling of floating while you get pulled and pushed and somewhere in the flurry of caresses you whine into Eddie’s kiss.

A break of lips on your skin and Steve’s shirt hits the floor and then your skirt is getting pushed down to meet them. The strappy set you’d picked out last minute, with all its crisscrossing bands over your hips and across your chest, form a rude arrow between your tits to guide their eyes.

Eddie stares and runs a fingertip under one of the bands to snap it. “Special occasion?”

You don’t answer him, too busy trying to get at his buttons to get his shirt off too. Those tattoos sing at you to be seen and you want to see the starkness of Eddie against Steve’s sun kissed shoulders.

Behind you Steve slides a hand up over your bra and the other down your spine, his lips on the back of your neck. It takes you a second to realize he’s trying to get you to the bed but Eddie notices and changes his stance. He knows how to move you around when he wants and he grabs you around the ribs to give you a push. It’s like all your other games now especially when Eddie starts to follow you back as you shimmy towards the pillows.

The clink of a belt buckle reminds you that Steve is still here. He holds out the baggie to Eddie. “Before you loose track.”

You notice it then, the lack of inebriation in Eddie. Sure he’d been a little toasted from the drive but while he made his rounds it seems like you and Steve were the only ones drinking.

“Actually, come here.” Eddie takes the coke but stops crawling toward you, instead sitting up on his knees and motioning for Steve. “Let me try something.”

Steve can’t get out of his jeans fast enough. He almost trips in his eagerness and Eddie uses it to his advantage. Steve’s flipped on his back with a laugh and all you can do is watch, fascinated with whatever Eddie has planned.

“Do you remember that time we all came up to see you play in college? Like all of us, I think it was the game you tore your shoulder.” Eddie looks down at Steve getting comfortable and throwing his arms out to the side. “That party the night before? What was that girls name?”

“Becca.” Steve says, shifting his gaze to look at you. “Stupid college fling.”

You nod wordlessly and start trying to unhook your bra without moving much. Eddie laughs and holds the baggie open so he can dip his finger in.

“Ah, Becca. She broke up with you the night before a championship game dude. That was cold.” Eddie acts like he’s swirling candy through sugar the way he twirls his finger around but the way you and Steve watch him it might as well be. “Remember how like, no one could find you in the morning? They thought you had gone off and drank yourself stupid over a girl, but where were you again?”

Steve just laughs but you want to know, you want to be in on the joke. Like most times it feels like Eddie hears your thoughts and he turns those big eyes full of mirth to you.

“He was actually passed out in the back of my van, naked.” Eddie gestures at Steve wearing only his boxers and smiling up at him. “This kind of reminded me of that.”

Eddie hovers over Steve, finger ghosting over his lips. “Open.” Steve’s grin splits and Eddie’s claw disappears behind white teeth. Dark ringed eyes flick up to find you where you’ve gone still against the pillows. He looks unbelievably wicked in this room, the gold shimmer on his lips barely mused from kissing you. He must have tossed the small fangs earlier but his mouth still poises danger while Steve sucks on his finger.

You finally find the momentum to drive off the pillows and over to the two of them just as Eddie follows his finger in with his lips. Steve lets a soft moan escape before Eddie covers his mouth with his own, gold staining pink.

You drop your shoulders mid crawl to stretch your hand into Steve’s hair again. You run it through the roots while you stare at them kissing, Steve groaning in the back of his throat when you pull.

“Like that?” You whisper so you don’t break their spell and Steve nods as he looks for something to hang on to. His fingers catch on your bicep and in Eddie’s hair and he’s anchored, hips rolling up into nothing while you tug on the crown of his head.

There’s a little bit of time that seems to slip away from you. One moment you’re watching Eddie take Steve apart and the next he’s moved you again, his arm slung around your middle to pull you flush against his chest, your underwear clutched in his fist, your thoughts soft

Steve watches Eddie’s tattooed hand slide gently around the front of your neck and he knows he’s in trouble. It’s both of you really, not just Eddie, driving him insane. He tilts your head back onto his shoulder and smiles down at you with what Steve thinks is pure adoration. When Eddie shifts his attention to Steve there’s a swooping low in his abdomen at the thought of being let in on whatever this is.

“Wanna help me out?” Eddie tilts his head toward you and that’s when Steve realizes that both you and him are fully naked. Clothes shed in the fast moments between kisses and yet Eddie still has his jeans on. Steve could break out his machismo here, could challenge this and let it be over quick and fast and typical or he could let the reigns go for a night. He thinks about letting himself not be in charge as Eddie moves above him while nudging you forward, knees straddling his hips and before he knows it he’s almost fucking you.

“That feel good baby?” Eddie’s teeth glint in the low light when he bites lightly at your cheek and leaves another mark of red and gold. You laugh breathily and nod your head, pushing your hips down just a little and the head of Steve’s cock pushes in. Both of you gasp and Steve thinks he feels a tear escape. The immediate wet surrounding him and the little display Eddie is putting on above him goes right to his balls and for a moment he thinks he won’t last past this. Eddie’s other hand trails down your stomach, fingers seeking further and further until they reach your bush and the gold rings distract Steve for just a second before they sink into your folds.

You crumple and slide down his cock further and Steve is trying to be respectful, as respectful as he can be, but he’s testing his own limits. A swift buck of his hips and he’d be home.

“I think you should give Steve a break, he looks like he’s loosing brain cells.” Eddie keeps you pressed to him, head lolled back and mouth open and panting, hips searching out his teasing fingers on your clit. “C’mon, give it up for Stevie.” He fake pouts at you and then turns it on Steve.

“Fuck you Ed-“ He’s cut off by the fall of your hips now seated flush against him. Everything about you is warm and wet and soft and amplified. His hands fist into the sheets beside him in an attempt to keep them to himself for the first time tonight, an attempt that Eddie calls out.

“You can touch her Steve, she isn’t gonna break.” He demonstrates this by digging his fingers in a little around your neck and you squeeze around Steve in response. “You want him to touch you, right?”

“Please.”

“Oh, she’s asking so nicely.”

Steve tries to think back to the first time he ever made a passing comment about you and wishes he could kick himself. He’d gone into this night with one other threesome under his belt, some half met happenstance from ten years ago. It’d been sloppy and messy and he’d bent the two girls around to his will but this? He’s unprepared. Any and all of his personal history with Eddie should have given him some kind of clue, but the two of you really are nothing but a flashing red light of trouble.

Your knees dig into his sides while one hand ghosts over his abdomen, looking for purchase. Eddie still holds you close but keeps his eyes on Steve, a suggestion in his gaze.

“Go ahead.” Eddie purrs and Steve finds himself lost in more than just his high. If he didn’t know any better he’d be convinced of his friend’s true nature, a pest of a demon hellbent on driving Steve certifiably insane. However he finds his hands running hot over your thighs and up your sides, over your stomach and under the swell of your breast. Anywhere he can run his hands over the soft skin you’d kept barely hidden all night, skin that he’d been staring at.

Eddie chuckles when Steve finds a nipple, a fierce pinch to it making you gasp and roll your hips and Steve can’t help himself anymore. He grips and thrusts up to punch a sharp moan out of you. Eddie’s fingers stay buried in your cunt and splayed across your throat to keep you pinned to his chest. Steve’s immediate fast pace makes you bounce and he’s transfixed when Eddie sneaks a finger into your hanging mouth to hold your jaw open.

“You should hear her.” He drops a kiss to the corner of your mouth before letting go, lowering you to lay on Steve’s chest. A whine comes from you, a deep sound that pitches up when Steve shifts to hold you in place. He already sits so deep but when he winds his arm around your neck to hold you close you gasp. You can feel Eddie move on the bed, can feel his hand run over your ass, can feel the brush of his suddenly freed cock along your inner thigh. Steve adjust you so your cheek is flat against him and pulls at your hip to spread you open for Eddie.

“Fuck now isn’t that a pretty sight?” His thumb is rough against such sensitive skin when he glides it around your cunt. You try to move your hips as much as you can but the angle you’re at only affords you short rolls of your hips.

“Oh you can do better than that for Steve, can’t you?” Eddie teases and you whine into Steve’s chest.

“He’s being mean isn’t he?” Steve whispers to you. They both laugh at your groan but Steve shushes you, palm rubbing over the back of your neck where he holds you down. “I’ll be the nice one then, huh?”

Struck dumb by the feeling of Eddie pushing forward ever so slightly, all you can do is nod. He tilts your chin up to hold your gaze, his pupils blown out wide and dark and you wonder if yours look just as big.

“Can I—“ Cut off by the feeling of something cold dripping on your ass you almost sit up out of Steve’s grip before Eddie giggles a quiet apology and tosses a little bottle of lube over the side of the bed.

“What do you want?”

“Coke.” The zing is fading and you want to feel it again. The race of goosebumps across your bared flesh. The tingle over your scalp as Steve’s finger glides along your teeth.

Eddie laughs and reaches over to grab the bag and hand it to Steve, tasking him with your request. Still held in place, Steve brings his finger, wet now and dipped in white again, back to your mouth. His finger rubs your gums again and the head of his cock nudging deep and the feel of Eddie’s pressing where Steve already is and you don’t know how much more full you can get. It’s a stretch just with Steve but the insistent pressure from Eddie, the feel of his cockhead popping in makes your breath catch. He’s being careful, just so careful but that need to feel everything and move and moan takes over again and Eddie puts a heavy hand on your back.

“Breathe, baby.”

Instead you whine, held between two solid bodies that keep you still, that stroke your spine and run rough fingers into your hair to keep you from spinning out.

“That’s a pretty sound.” Steve says lowly and out of the corner of your eye you watch him hold his hand up to Eddie who sucks that same finger into his mouth.

The thought is brought to the forefront of your mind quickly, the image so clear and grounding, of Eddie sucking your purple strap. It stops the other spinning thoughts and that initial head rush fades. Against Steve’s chest you mumble about Eddie’s pretty sounds, dazedly watching Steve’s long finger pop out from between those gold lips.

“What was that?” Steve sounds a little breathless.

“Eddie makes pretty sounds too.” The images shuffle in your brain. “When I fuck him he whines and it’s like he’s about to cry or something it’s almost too much.” Behind you Eddie laughs and thrust his hips and you choke on your words, his cock pushing further in and stretching you more. Steve’s laugh turns into a hiss and the hand on your neck clamps down when Eddie’s cock rubs against his.

“Keep talking.” Eddie is breathless but still the only one not blissed out. “You gonna tell him how good I look sucking dick?” He rocks his hips forward gently and ghosts a palm over your lower back. “Steve already knows about that, don’t you big guy?” Eddie teases before leaning over you to catch Steve’s eye. The smear of gold on his bottom lip drives Eddie crazy and the laugh turned stuttered moan when he drives deeper into you makes him wish he had more than just two hands.

“Or maybe Steve can tell you about when I’d drive out for those big parties.”

You like it when Eddie’s gets mouthy. When he starts sparring to get the upper hand. You’re smiling into Steve’s chest with just the barest glimpses of Eddie above you. He rocks in and out of the corner of your vision and under your ear you can hear the rumble of Steve trying his best to keep it together.

“Remember almost getting caught in the frat your freshman year? What a bunch of dumbasses.” Eddie’s laugh has an edge to it now and your chest swells with some kind of pride that he’s finally starting to falter.

“Yeah…b-because you c-couldn’t shut up.” Steve finally speaks, his hips starting to falter the slow rhythm he’d been keeping up. “It’s why we had to mo-ve to the van.”

Eddie’s hand appears when he lays his whole body on you so he can reach for Steve’s hair to give it a tug. The change in angle and Steve’s moans cancel out any quip you were trying to cobble together, a calm instead seeping in as the coil low in your abdomen begins to tighten. Eddie runs his mouth but you can’t pay attention to him with the way him and Steve seem to work in tandem for a blissful moment.

It’s too much and it’s not enough and you pant and whine and scratch at Steve’s chest. There’s no more rhythm then, just the snapping of their hips against you while they race to their own ends. Steve grips you hard before he slams his hips up one last time and stills, a long groan from deep in his chest your only warning before he cums. It’s a chain reaction of Steve going boneless and Eddie cursing behind you, picking up pace and bullying that tender spot enough to make you seize up. It sneaks up on you so fast, makes you loose your breath for a moment. A leg shaking orgasm, your fingers wound tightly enough in Steve’s hair to make him hiss, all you can hear is the guttural groan coming from you and Eddie’s praise. It tumbles out of his mouth with little sense and you know he’s done in when his thumbs rub tight, fast circles on your hip before he stills.

Hearing and speech aren’t really a thing for you yet but you do grunt in appreciation when Steve seems to come to some of his senses and reaches up to pull the stupid horns off of Eddie’s head that’s resting between your shoulder blades.

“Thanks.” Eddie’s breath fans over your sweaty skin and he makes no attempt at moving yet. Someone has fingers in your hair, you can’t tell, and Eddie is rubbing his face against you and giving you little kisses along your shoulder. Steve’s breathing is finally calming down and in turn it makes you even out too, realizing how sticky you are everywhere.

“I hate to break this up,” Your voice is scratchy and small coming from between them, “but I need to go to the bathroom.”

You stumble back into the room, falling down into the bedding and Eddie slithers up from where he was sitting at the foot of the bed to leave a trail of kisses all the way up. He winds himself between your legs and drapes them over his hips and continues to leave kisses up your stomach and over the peeling prosthetic on your chest. He dots your neck and cheeks and all around your mouth before he finally gives you a real kiss. He makes you giggle with his doting and when he tries to put your underwear back on for you but the straps outwit him. Instead he tugs on the sheet beneath you and tucks in around you, leaving your clothes on the floor for later.

“Do you need anything?” He says it quietly, thinking Steve is dozing beside you. “Other than water I mean.”

You’re tired and achey and still high from various things and all you can think to ask for is: “Crackers.”

“In bed?” Eddie gives you an unbelieving look but when you just grin sleepily at him he shrugs. “I won’t kick you out.” He gets up slowly and kicks stuff around on the floor to find his own shirt when the shifting of bed springs grabs his attention. Steve is seemingly trying to sneak out of the bed without saying anything, keeping his back to the two of you while he toes his underwear over to himself.

Eddie waits for some kind for acknowledgement but when it doesn’t come he clears his throat lightly. “Hey.”

“Hey.” He says it like he’s surprised that you and Eddie are still there. “I’m gonna get out of your hair…I gotta make sure no one set anything on fire and like, find Rob…” He looks around for his pants and won’t meet Eddie’s eyes.

“I’m just going to get water, you don’t have to leave. It’s your room anyways.”

“Well I’m not kicking you guys out.”

“Steve.” You don’t mean to admonish him but that’s what happens. With the sheet tucked up around your chest you pull on the slack to show the other side of the bed. “Get back in here.”

He doesn’t move, just sighs deeply and reaches for his cigarettes.

“I’m serious.”

Eddie watches you point at the empty spot with some finality and he almost tells Steve it’s in his best interest to listen to you.

“I just—“

“It’s cold. I’m cold. Get back in the bed.” You slap the pillow. “Please.”

Steve does look at Eddie then with concern and all Eddie can do is chuckle. “I’d get back in there unless you like spit in your iced lattes for the next however long.” He leaves for the promised water and Steve sits on the edge of the bed and acts like you’re making him go to the dentist.

“Hey, if you want to leave you can, I was trying to be funny.”

“I didn’t want to intrude.” Steve sighs and throws himself back onto the pillow. “You guys were having a moment.”

You pull a confused face. “Do I need to remind you what we were just doing?”

“No.” Steve laughs.

“Because I can’t give you graphic detail but I can tell you that I got pretzeled up pretty good.” You reach over to rub a hand over his chest, running your fingers through the dark curls. Eddie sneaks back in and you notice the music isn’t at the level it was when you came in here.

Around the blinds is a light blue border bleeding in and you would really like to bury your head under the covers and keep petting Steve. Eddie makes you drink water though before anyone can get comfortable, even bullies Steve into finishing his. Eddie does his normal and climbs into bed to immediately lay half on your back, his arm flung over to mess with Steve until he relents and tilts his head over so Eddie can twirl a strand around.

Tucked between the two of them you’re almost asleep when you remember something from the heat of it all and you shake with silent laughter.

“What?” Eddie asks and Steve gives you a half awake eyebrow raise.

“You know he’s a tiefling right?”

That wakes Steve up a little. “What?”

“Yeah, his tiefling bard. You called him a demon earlier and it made me laugh.”

Steve sighs and ignores your sleep talk and you try to expound but the heavy, comforting weight of Eddie and Steve’s warm chest under your palm cut you off before you even realize you’ve fallen asleep.

#Eddie Munson #Eddie Munson Fic #Eddie Munson x Reader #Steve Harrington #Steve Harrington Fic #Steve Harrington x Reader #Eddie Munson x Steve Harrington x Reader #My Work #My Fic

136 notes · View notes

taojjang · 3 days ago

Text

𐙚 riize's favorite thing to do with you

pairing: bf!riize x reader, genre: fluff, warnings: they down bad fr

　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　⋆ ˚ ۪ ⋆ ୨୧

♡⸝⸝ times he feels happiest by your side

shotaro . . . shopping with you!

taro truly loves spoiling you— whether with new jewelry or a bunch of kisses, he always has something to give you. he often finds excuses to go spend money with you. for instance, you could mention that you really like chocolate and he'll respond, "let's go for some ice cream!" he just loves giving you everything you want :( and that's why he loves your late-night convenience store runs!

the second you tell shotaro you want a snack, he's already grabbing his car keys and telling you to put on your jacket. when you arrive at the convenience store, taro runs straight towards your favorite snack and tosses two of them into the basket. "is there anything else you're craving, honey?" whatever you look at, he puts it in the basket without even looking at the price. in his mind, the smile that you give him when you're eating snacks together is priceless <3

eunseok . . . lounging with you!

eunseok is a simple man, it really doesn't take much to satisfy him. something about the lazy days he spends with you always makes him feel so comfortable. he loves those saturday nights when he comes home from work and you're welcoming him with a warm hug and a kiss on the cheek. but he loves sunday mornings even more.

he loves waking up with you resting on his chest, not having to turn off his alarm or push you off to get ready for work. if you hadn't woken up and forced him to freshen up, he'd lie there for hours, falling in and out of sleep with you cuddled against him. after brushing your teeth and eating a quick snack, eunseok would drag you right back to bed so he could lie beside you while you finished your overdue tasks on your laptop. he'd occasionally get up to grab a snack for the both of you, but for the most part, he'd play his silly mobile games while you pat his head with your free hand. simple days like this make him feel so happy to be yours.

sungchan . . . eating with you!

sungchan is always so worried about you. the days when he's too busy at work to come and see you, he's texting you every hour to ask if you've eaten yet. he just wants to know you're taking care of yourself when he isn't there to do it himself :( which is why he's always ordering so much food when he comes to your house.

"thank you, baby... but i don't think i can eat all of this." you mutter looking down at the 6 containers of takeout. "it's fine princess, you can eat the leftovers tomorrow." sungchan melts into a giggly mess once you start eating. he loves how adorable you look when you eat <3 so much to the point where he'd buy you every single one of your cravings just to see those cute chubby cheeks :(

"you're so adorable, princess~ how is it? should i order more?"

wonbin . . . dressing up with you!

whether he's going to a fashion show or the grocery store, wonbin has to look good wherever he goes. it's almost sickening having to wait 40 minutes for him to get all dolled up just to grab toothpaste from the pharmacy. but you've got to admit, it's quite fun helping him pick out his outfits. one thing you should expect from helping him out is having to join him in his fashion frenzy.

wonbin loves matching outfits with you! before you leave the house, he'll go into his closet and find a comfy sweater that matches his outfit. but instead of wearing it, he hands it to you. "baby, try this on." you always love wearing his clothes since they're so stylish and cozy (not to mention they smell like him too). he finds it so adorable when you twirl around in front of the mirror, asking him "is this one okay?"

"you already know what i'm gonna say, baby. you're so beautiful!"

seunghan . . . singing with you!

seunghan is truly a passionate man. even on his days off, you catch him dancing in front of the mirror, working tirelessly to ensure he has the choreo down before he goes to work the next day. but when you catch him singing, it's almost mesmerizing. when you walk by the bathroom and hear him singing in the shower, you can't help but press your ear against the door in hopes of hearing him clearly. his voice is incomparable to anything you've ever heard.

he could say the same about yours. the first time he heard you singing a song he'd been practicing, he stopped dead in his tracks and let nothing take his attention away from you. you never believe him when he tells you you're good at singing (i mean, he's literally THEE hong seunghan), but he won't stop telling you how lovely your voice is. he loves your voice so much that his ideal date is singing his heart out with you in the karaoke room! he loves how adorable you look jumping around and singing your favorite song while he's cheering you on. you could never forget how he looks up at you with so much adoration sparkling in his eyes. he adores you more than anything else in the world.

sohee . . . playing with you!

sometimes you get a bit annoyed by how often sohee plays video games. it's so exhausting watching him spend all of his time at his computer when you just want cuddles :( he typically takes a break after a few rounds to grab a snack, but you're always lying on his bed with those sad eyes and a pout, waiting for any bit of attention from him. "hi pretty girl, you okay?" you shake your head. he stands up to stretch and walks to lie beside you. "let's play together." he can't help but laugh at your sudden mood change when he suggests spending time together.

sohee sits against the headboard and you immediately find a spot to sit between his legs, the back of your head resting on his chest. he hands you a controller and lets you pick a game to play. even if it's a game he doesn't like, he always engages in the gameplay and makes sure you have enough fun to forget how upset you were just a few minutes ago. you always giggle knowing your pout always gets you what you want. you truly are his soft spot <3 the two of you play for hours; screaming and laughing at each other until you grow sleepy. once you tell him you're tired, he'll take the controller from your hand and turn off the tv. he'll pull the blanket over you and hold you closer to his chest.

"let's play again tomorrow, hm?"

anton . . . cuddling with you!

to anton, there's no place that's more comforting than your arms. with every hug, he feels like he's falling deeper and deeper in love with you by the second. he never knew someone could feel so much like home. his hugs are always so passionate; wrapping his arms around your shoulders and hiding his face in your neck, savoring every moment of you. every hug drowns you in such addicting warmth that you can't get enough of him. nothing could ever top this feeling. well, except for cuddles, of course.

after a long day, all you truly need is to be held by your big teddy bear. lying down beside anton, he immediately turns to you and rests his head on your chest. beginning to run your hands through his hair, you tell him how exhausting today was and how badly you missed him. he leaves a soft kiss on your lips before wrapping his arms around you, closing the gap between the two of you.

"you're with me now, love. just focus on me."

112 notes · View notes

likeawillowtowind · 1 day ago

Text

thinking about accidentally texting Simon when you're singing along to a song, guilty as sin to be specific.

accidentally hitting speech to text when you finish replying to a message from him,

To Simon,

-Someone told me there's no such thing as bad thoughts, only your actions talk. these fatal fantasies, giving way to labored breath. taking all of me, we've already done it in my head. If it's make believe, why does it feel like a vow.

Read

he's already thinking about you, coming up with a stupid reason to text you in the first place, something about the cookies you baked a couple of days ago, information that's completely unnecessary but he wants to talk to you. he feels like he's going crazy on leave without seeing you. and then, that text. he just stares at it, his breathing shallows as he tries to wrap his head around what you're saying to him, we've already done it in your head? that phrase circles on repeat in his head and his mouth dries.

without thinking he's already grabbed his keys and shoving his boots on, he's out of the door and shoving his helmet on when he gets another text from you but he doesn't realise because he's concentrating on not crashing as he speeds to you.

To Simon

-sorry I didn't realise my phone picked up the music, oops!

Delivered

you toss your phone to the side as you turn back to cooking, meanwhile Simon is sure he just ran a red light but his brain is not functioning well, finally he nears your house. you hear a rumble of a bike you're sure sounds like Simon's but you brush it off until there's a rapid knocking at your door. you toss your oven mitts off and open your front door to see Simon, with ruffled hair from pulling his helmet off so quickly

"Simon? what?" you can't even finish your sentence before he surges forward and kisses you, it takes you by surprise but you melt into it as he backs you into the house. finally you come up for air,

"Si what on earth?" you pant out as his hands caress your waist,

"it doesn't have to be make believe, I'll make as many vows as you want" the cogs click into place and you can't help but giggle,

"well I'm glad you finally manned up and confessed but that was a song, you didn't check your phone again did you?"

A/N: he'll walk you down the aisle to invisible string instrumental

#call of duty #cod #simon ghost riley #simon riley #simon ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #cod ghost #ghost cod #cod x reader

66 notes · View notes

brightlight-dazzlingeyes · 2 days ago

Text

what am i to you? | pablo gavi

🌧️ synopsis: You’ve been by Pablo’s side through his recovery, and now that he’s back on the field, you should be happy for him – but instead, something feels off between you two. He’s your best friend, but recently, your feelings have started to blur. As he returns to his routines, you can't help but wonder: what do you even mean to him? warnings: angst, unrequited love, emotional tension. (around 2.3k words)

part 1

You’ve never been prouder. Watching him back on the field, surrounded by teammates, the adrenaline high in the stadium, the cheers. He's home again, doing what he was born to do.

You knew this day was coming, prepared yourself for it, even joked about it with him a hundred times. You’re happy for him, of course – that’s the confusing part. Every goal, every little victory feels like yours too. But as he dives back into training, into traveling, you’re realizing you’re on the sidelines again. Like he’s slipping away, and you’re left trying to hold on to something you can barely reach.

It’s subtle at first. Fewer calls, slower replies. And when he does call, he’s distracted, half in the conversation. You almost bring it up, but you don’t. You’re scared it’ll sound like you’re asking for more than he’s willing to give.

So you brush it off, tell yourself this is exactly what you wanted for him. But a part of you wonders if he even notices you’re still here.

Later, with his family at dinner, it’s loud and chaotic like always, but there’s this weird space between you two. His family notices it right away, and they’re tossing you little glances, like they’re silently rooting for you or something. His sister even nudges him, whispering that he should drive you home – but he just laughs it off.

“I’m tired,” he says, leaning back in his chair with a stretch. “And you’re used to getting back on your own anyway, right?” His words feel like a door closing, and for a second, even his sister seems taken aback.

There’s a flicker of irritation in her eyes as she grabs her keys. “Come on,” she says gently, her gaze softening when she looks back at you. “I’ll take you.”

The ride home is quiet at first, you’re grateful for it until you notice her glancing over, a look that feels like she’s piecing something together. Finally, she sighs, like she’s been holding it back.

“Do you like him?” she asks, her voice so gentle that it catches you off guard. The question turns into a tightness in your chest. You’re suddenly blinking back tears, horrified by how obvious you must have been.

You shake your head, trying to laugh it off, but your voice wavers. “He can never know. Ever. You have to promise me you won’t tell.” Your voice cracks, and you look away, trying to get a hold of yourself, but the words are spilling out before you can stop them.

She’s quiet for a moment, frowning. “But he’s hurting your feelings. Maybe if he knew…”

You shake your head harder, gripping the edge of your seat. “No. I’ll get over it. And everything will go back to normal.”

part 2

It’s a week later when invites you to play videogames at his house. He’s slouched on the couch, locked into his controller, barely looking up when he says, “She’s hot, right? I mean, did you see her at the game last week?” He laughs, and it’s like he doesn’t even notice you’re sitting two feet away, trying to disappear into the corner of the sofa.

One of his friends shifts uncomfortably, glancing at you before clearing his throat. “Yeah, uh, anyway… what about that new level we were talking about?”

But Pablo doesn't pick up the hint. “No, seriously, she’s perfect. Couldn’t stop staring,” he goes on, oblivious.

Your stomach twists, and you can feel your gaze drop to the floor, trying to blink back the tears stinging at the corners of your eyes. When it gets too much, you stand up, mutter something like “I’ll be right back,” and slip into the kitchen, hoping no one noticed.

Leaning against the counter, you try to breathe through it, to push down the hurt. This is what it feels like, you think, to want something you’ll never have.

Back in the living room, the silence hangs heavy until one of his friends speaks up, his voice lowered. “Dude, are you serious? She’s right there, and you’re talking like that?”

Pablo lets out a clueless laugh. “What? What did I say?”

“Just… go after her,” one of them says, exasperated. “She’s upset. Go check on her, man.”

A moment later, you hear his footsteps, and he hesitates by the doorway, clearly baffled.

“Hey… are you okay?” he asks. When you look up, you can tell he’s genuinely surprised, like he didn’t see this coming at all.

You shake your head, wiping at your eyes, mortified he had to see you like this. He watches, still looking lost, and then asks softly, “Did I… do something?”

You try to laugh, but it comes out broken. “No, nothing. I’m fine. It’s silly, really,” you say, wiping at your eyes again. “I just thought… that game was sad or something.”

He tilts his head, giving you a small, half-smile. “Sad?” he repeats, disbelieving. “You don’t usually cry over video games.”

Before you can respond, he steps closer, his hands reaching out instinctively to brush over your shoulders, his thumb moving gently in slow, reassuring circles. Then, without thinking, he leans in, pressing a warm kiss to your temple. “I don’t like seeing you cry,” he murmurs softly.

And it’s moments like these that planted your feelings, you realize, the way he just slips so easily into being close to you, holding you without a second thought. This is Pablo: easy, affectionate, always touchy, with hugs and soft kisses for everyone he cares about.

You remind yourself he’s like this with everyone, that it’s not just you.

“Really, I’m okay,” you murmur, feeling silly for letting it get to you. But he’s still looking at you, his eyes full of that quiet worry, and you can tell he doesn’t entirely believe you.

He pauses, his friends' words clearly replaying in his mind, and he wonders if he’s the reason you’re upset. The thought flits across his face, and it hits him hard; you can see it – a mix of guilt and confusion. But then he blinks, like he’s decided to push that doubt away, choosing instead to trust what you’re telling him, to believe that he knows you better than anyone else.

“Alright,” he whispers, “if you say so.”

He’s so close, and his touch is so gentle that it takes everything in you not to melt right there in his arms. You hold on to every bit of restraint, telling yourself he’s just being the same Pablo he’s always been – kind, warm, a little too affectionate. It’s just who he is.

But his lips brush against your temple again, softer this time, and for a split second, you let yourself believe there’s something more there. Then, you shake off the thought, force a small smile, and hug him back just as tightly.

part 3

It starts with little things at first, the way he lingers a moment longer when he says goodbye, or the concerned looks he shoots your way when he thinks you aren’t paying attention. Pablo’s friends, his family – they’ve all noticed something between you two that he can’t quite understand yet. And after weeks of sensing that something’s wrong, he finally works up the courage to bring it up.

“Let’s do something, just us,” he says. And of course, you say yes, because when have you ever been able to say no to him?

So the next day, you’re with him, walking around the lake, your lake, tracing the same path you used to take during his recovery. He’s shuffling his feet, his hands shoved deep into his pockets, kicking stones in that aimless way he does when he’s nervous. For a while, he doesn’t say anything, just walks beside you in silence, and you start to wonder if maybe he’s changed his mind. But then he looks over, all serious, his giant puppy eyes holding that sincere, almost vulnerable look that gets you every time.

“I’m glad you’re here,” he starts, and there’s this pause, like he’s searching for the right words. “With you, I don’t have to pretend. Everyone else… I don’t know, there’s always this pressure. But with you, I can just… be me.” He smiles a little, like he’s surprised at his own honesty. “I don’t know what I’d do without that.”

And there it is – the thing you’ve been aching for and dreading all at once, the way he’s looking at you, like you’re the one who grounds him, who keeps him steady. You try to keep your expression calm, neutral, but it’s hard to hide the hurt, the way your chest tightens because he has no idea. And of course, he notices. He’s Pablo, and despite everything, he knows you too well to miss it.

“Wait,” he says, scared of what he’s about to uncover. “Is there… something more?”

And here it comes, this big moment you’ve been holding off, the thing you’ve been trying so hard to ignore. You want to say something, anything to deflect, to shrug it off like it’s nothing, but he’s looking at you with this intensity that tells you he’s not going to let it go.

“God, I’m such an idiot,” he mutters, half to himself, and there’s this look on his face, like he’s piecing together all these little things he missed, connecting dots he didn’t even know were there. And now, it’s like he’s finally seeing the whole picture, and it’s both surprising and heartbreaking.

He reaches for your hand, his thumb tracing a gentle line over your knuckles, the touch so familiar it makes your heart ache. “You… you feel something for me. Something more.” His voice is barely above a whisper, like he’s testing the words, trying to make sense of this new reality. You see it all hit him – the shock, the guilt, even a bit of regret.

“I didn’t know,” he says softly, his eyes searching for yours, pleading. “I thought… I thought you saw me like family. Like… a brother.” He lets out a little laugh, but it’s sad. “I even tried flirting with you once, remember? But I stopped because I thought I’d ruin this.”

And there it is, the confession he’s been holding back, the words that sting and comfort you all at once. He takes a deep breath, his voice catching as he finally says it out loud. “I love you, you know that? I love you so much that… that I don’t think of you like that. Because I can’t imagine my life without you. Ever.”

His words settle between you, heavy and bittersweet. You know he means it, that he loves you with this raw, overwhelming intensity – but not in the way you wanted. And as he wraps his arms around you, pulling you close, you realize you’ll have to live with that. He’s here, holding you tight, whispering words meant to reassure you, but they only tear you apart a little more.

“Say something, please,” he murmurs, his voice thick, like he’s afraid he’s pushed you too far.

And somehow, through the ache in your chest, the words spill out, broken and raw. “I’m trying so hard to get over you it’s hurting me.”

He holds you tighter, his hand gently rubbing your back as he whispers, “I never wanted you to feel like this.”

You pull away slightly, not enough to break free, but enough to look him in the eye. And the words spill out before you can stop them, your voice unsteady, a mix of disbelief and hurt. “I can’t believe you just told me all these things just to tell me we’re just friends.”

Your chest tightens, the weight of it all hitting you like a wave. You try to hold it together, but everything you’ve been hiding, everything you’ve been burying inside, starts to unravel. “Am I crazy?” you ask, the question coming out sharper than you intended. “You really can’t see anything more?”

It’s too much. The way he looks at you, like he wants to take it all back, like he never meant to cause you this pain. You try to swallow the knot in your throat, but it’s impossible to ignore how his words cut into you, leaving you feeling exposed, raw.

Pablo shifts, his eyes searching yours, unsure of how to fix this, how to make it better. His expression flickers between guilt, confusion, and a sort of helplessness. “I… I didn’t mean to hurt you. I just–” He stops himself, running a hand through his hair, his frustration evident. “I just don’t want to lose you, okay? But I can’t... I can’t think of you like that.”

Your heart feels like it’s breaking all over again, and you take a step back, too afraid to hear more. “You don’t get it, do you?” you whisper, the words barely audible. “You’ve always been everything to me...”

Pablo stares at you for a long moment, his mouth slightly open as if he’s searching for something, anything, that will make sense of it. Finally, his shoulders slump, defeated. “I’m sorry,” he says softly, and the sincerity in his voice makes the hurt even worse. “I wish I could give you what you want… but I can’t.”

The silence stretches between you both, thick and heavy, and you don’t know whether to scream, cry, or just run away from it all. Every inch of you is torn between wanting to hold on to him and the overwhelming pain of knowing he doesn’t feel the same. “I don’t want to lose you either,” you whisper, but the words don’t carry the weight they should. They feel hollow, desperate. “Can we just pretend, then? I promise I’ll try harder to get over this, I just can’t lose you.”

Your voice cracks at the end. You want to believe it’s possible, that maybe pretending – just for a little while – will ease the ache, but deep down, you know it’s not that simple. You can't just switch off what you've felt for so long, not now.

But it’s all you have left, isn’t it? The hope that somehow you can make things work, even when you know it's tearing you apart.

#football fanfic #gavi #pablo gavi fanfic #pablo gavi x reader #pablo gavi #pablo gavi x you #gavi x you #gavi x reader #brightlightwrites #football fic

50 notes · View notes

mc-lukanette · 2 days ago

Text

Luka was still a child, far too young to worry about much of anything, yet he worried anyway because Marinette seemed worried. While she still engaged with him during their usual playtime and listened eagerly when he showed her the new toy he'd gotten, she felt distant and was more quiet than usual. It was a problem, not only because she was his friend and he cared, but he liked hearing her talk and ramble to him.

She wasn't doing any of that while she was so distracted.

He didn't ask about it - Juleka had told him once that girls were allowed to have their secrets, and he didn't know if this might be one of them - so he tried to find other things for them to do, hoping it might interest her more. They took a break to eat, went for a walk around the Liberty to see if the flowers needed watering, then searched for something to watch together.

He was starting to lose hope that he could cheer her up when she suddenly spoke partway through their movie search.

"Magic's not real."

He looked, seeing her hunched over with a movie in her hands. Not knowing why she'd say such a thing, he asked in reply, "Why?"

She pouted, fidgeting with the movie as she explained, "I had to write stuff for school about the story of someone we look up to. I was gonna do the tooth fairy, because Santa has a hard job too but the tooth fairy's tiny and works all year."

He nodded along silently to her story, agreeing with the logic. "Then what?"

"I wanted to know where they got all the money for kids' teeth, like a job, so I sneaked onto the computer when no one was around and..." She let out a groan, slumping and falling back onto the floor. "They're not real."

It was a shock to him too, though Marinette had been through it first without any support, so he can't imagine how it was for her. "But magic can still be real, right? Just not the tooth fairy."

"Santa's not real either!" she shouted to the empty space in the room.

Luka slowly realized how much she'd kept inside the whole time.

"I just wanted to give him the cookies I made last Christmas," she said, rubbing her face tiredly, "but then I caught Papa dressed up like Santa!"

"How'd you know it was him?" he asked with a tilt of his head.

"It's Papa! No one else looks like him."

That was fair.

"I thought maybe Santa was sick from the North Pole cold and sent Papa clothes so no one knew, but... the clothes were so cheap!" She threw her hands up, nearly sending the movie across the room in the process. "They just did it to trick me if I tried to meet 'Santa'!"

Marinette knew her fashion, so he believed her. He imagined that she'd let the Santa clothes go for all that time and it was only after yet another disappointment with the tooth fairy that she gave in.

For his own part, Luka had believed in Santa, but not that he was the one delivering gifts. According to his mom, Santa abandoned his wife, leaving her to do all the gifting, and she'd "throw him overboard" if he ever came back. He'd always wondered why the other kids told different versions, but if it was just a story, then it made sense.

A sympathetic, "Oh," was all he could say. It wasn't easy for him to grasp that magic wasn't real as, while he'd never seen people fly or cast spells, he always thought it was pretty magical that he and Marinette met and became best friends.

"And if magic's not real, fairytales aren't too," Marinette concluded, gently tossing the movie aside.

It landed in front of Luka and he finally got to see what she'd been holding that started all this: a typical princess movie with a prince, a fairy godmother, and a witch-y villainess. He frowned, picking it up and turning it around to look at the back as well.

He trusted Marinette, so it must've been true that magic and fairytales weren't real. He was torn, because while it was sad that he wouldn't be seeing "real" magic in his life, it was weirdly comforting that life didn't work out the way it did in fairytales.

He'd always thought that Marinette was cute enough to be a princess, or at least the girls in the movies who became princesses. At the same time, the only boys the princesses and those girls tended to be around were princes, and Luka wasn't a prince; he wasn't even close. He wasn't rich, he wasn't royalty, he couldn't do a ballroom dance, and he hadn't defeated any evil dragons.

But if fairytales weren't real, then he could stay with her. That was one good thing.

Marinette sat up, defeated, but not enough to ignore fixing her bangs and checking the tightness of the hairties holding her pigtails in place. Luka blinked, briefly distracted by the trail of freckles underneath her sad, half-lidded eyes.

He was sure they hadn't done any art or crafts that day, but she must've before she'd gotten there, as her freckles were sparkling like they'd gotten glitter onto them. His nose scrunched in thought, wondering how he could've missed that when she'd gotten there.

"I wanted to be the knitting fairy when I grew up. I wanted to make clothes for everyone that was super comfy and didn't go out of style," she mumbled, her hands tightened into fists against her chest. "A-and make it so bullies would have clothes that never fit and were always really itchy!"

Her eyes flashed with frustration, looking more blue than usual. Luka went closer to sit down next to her, wanting to comfort her but not sure how.

"You can still make clothes," he pointed out. "You'll be good at it."

"But—!" she began to protest, turning fully to him. "I had other stuff I wanted to do with my magic! Like—ah... nnn..."

"Marinette?" he called, alarmed as she started to shake. He knew intuitively that it wasn't from rage.

She shut her eyes tight like she had a headache, squeezing herself in a hug. She opened her mouth to respond to him—

Only to disappear spontaneously in a cloud of thick, pink mist. Luka recoiled, staring at what looked almost looked like cotton candy in cloud form that Marinette had been lost in.

Without a thought as to if it might hurt him or not, he thrust his hand inside desperately, hoping to pull her out. He tried to grasp at where her shoulder had been before, but couldn't feel anything except for the bizarre, almost fuzzy feeling mist. Still, he noticed that the movement had cleared some of it, so he waved his arm about rapidly to try and clear as much of it as he could.

A very Marinette-like cough sounded from below, her voice filling him with relief as she called out, "L-Luka?"

His arm pulled back, the mist separating and fading away into nothingness. He looked down towards the source of her voice, thinking that she might have collapsed despite him having not heard it, but that's not at all what he ended up seeing.

Sitting on the floor just as she'd been before was a wide-eyed Marinette, but small; small enough for him to carry around in both hands. Her pigtails had rounded and gained little hair accessories that reminded him of tiny pincushions, while her outfit had changed to a pink, fluffy minidress.

Most notable, however, were the glowing white fairy wings that were coming out of her back. He covered his mouth with both hands in shock.

"You're magic," he said, though it was muffled behind his palms. Even if Santa and the tooth fairy weren't real, at least his inclinations about their magical meeting still made sense.

"W-what?!"

She jumped to her feet, noticing how little she rose up, then turned and twisted every way possible to look at herself, which was when he noticed that she also had pointed ears. Even as tiny as she was, Luka was observant enough to catch the tidal waves of emotion passing over her face one after another. She was surprised by the change, but the wings and new clothes made her giddy, then she swapped to being horrified.

"Ah, but—but there's no tooth fairy!" She put her hands to her cheeks in distress, so fast that they made a slapping sound. "If I was gonna be a fairy, I wanted someone to teach me! Does that—" She gasped. "—Does that mean I'm the only real tooth fairy? All by myself?! I don't have any money to give to other kids!"

Luka fretted as she paced in a tiny circle on the floor, two children entirely lost without direction.

"Or do I have to be a fairy godmother? Do I have to go find a girl to godmother to? What if I pick the wrong girl?!" She whined, the pacing picking up as she threw her arms about. "And I don't know anything about being a god, or a mother!"

He didn't know anything about what was going on, but he didn't want her to worry so much. Perhaps impulsively, he put a hand out to block the path she'd been pacing.

Marinette nearly bumped into it, but stopped just in time. She stared up at him with her wide eyes pleading and confused.

"Maybe you don't have to be anything?" He shrugged helplessly with one arm, hoping for the same as her. "Did it come with rules? Like a board game or a toy you build?"

She perked, realizing that he meant an instruction manual, and immediately started patting herself down. There weren't many places for a guide to be put on her, though he noticed that pockets seemed to magically form when Marinette tried to search for some.

"...No," she concluded when she'd run out of spots to check. "I-I don't think so?"

"Then it's gotta be okay," he said; more decided, really. He might not have fought off dragons, but he would hide and defend her if any sort of fairy police came to scold her for rules they didn't know about. His mom had always been a rule breaker and encouraged him to break them in cases like these.

Well, she didn't describe a situation like his best friend transforming into a fairy, but it fell within the category, he was sure.

As Luka tilted his head to fully take in Marinette, he saw her glancing over her shoulder at her wings. She arched her back, shoulders tensing as she closed her eyes, but the wings only fluttered briefly before she gave up.

"You wanna fly?" he wondered aloud.

"Yeah? No—yeah?" She blushed, getting up on her tip toes to try and make herself seem taller. "You'll hurt your neck if you keep looking down."

He unconsciously touched the back of his neck, having not given an ounce of thought to that. She was the one who suddenly changed, so why was she thinking about him? He looked around, trying to get a gauge on how the room must've looked to her, then suggested, "I can pick you up?"

"Mm?" She hadn't considered the possibility.

He laid his hands on the floor, palms facing up, and raised a brow as if to ask, 'is this okay?' Marinette stared at his hands, taking a few steps closer and looking them over like they were a puzzle, then slowly raised a leg and started to get on. He kept perfectly still, not wanting to jostle her, though she still fell forward due to his hands being a more uneven surface than the floor.

He would've helped had his hands not been preoccupied for obvious reasons. He was vaguely upset at them for being uneven in the first place, as if he'd had any control over that.

He waited for her to sit up and get her bearings, then started to stand up. He kept his eyes on her all the way to the coffee table, walking carefully so as to not trip or bump into anything. When they did reach it, he lowered his hands and she jumped off a couple inches away from the table, falling down slowly like a feather to both of their surprise.

"Oh." Marinette glanced at her wings again, as if she could belatedly check if they had fluttered automatically during the fall. Luka had been watching, so he knew it was just how her new body worked.

He sat himself down on the floor, his arms on the table for support so he could lean towards her. "Do you wanna change back?"

She pursed her lips at him, rubbing her chin, then cheek, and finally the back of her neck. "...I dunno? How?"

He racked his brain, tilting his head from side to side like it might help the thoughts move around more quickly. He recalled their conversation and tried to piece together any connection to her changing. "You were thinking about being a fairy? And magic?"

He didn't know how saying that helped, but she picked it up from there. "So... I have to think about being a not fairy? A not fairy without magic?"

He shrugged.

Since they didn't have any other alternatives, she went with it. Putting her teeny tiny hands on her teeny tiny hips, she shut her eyes and tried to focus. It did feel like a shame to try and change her back when she'd just turned into a fairy, but it was just as important to know what she could and couldn't do.

Nothing was happening though. Her brow twitched, her feet shifting in place impatiently. She swayed from side to side, not unlike he'd done earlier while thinking, then she opened her eyes to look up at him. Letting out a whine from her throat, she turned her back to him and tried again. He didn't know how that was supposed to make it easier on her.

Nothing again. She was still a fairy, still just as tiny, and she turned back to him with the same gleaming blue eyes, pointy ears, and glittery freckles.

"I can't," she said. "Not yet."

Yet? "What's wrong?"

"I'm still thinking about magic." She hesitated, then stepped closer and reached both of her hands up. "Come down."

The words alone were a demand, but the tone made it a shy request. He obeyed, bending over and letting his chin rest on his forearms.

Going close enough to his face that he had to cross his eyes to watch her, she stepped off to the side next to his head, putting a knee on his forearm as she leaned forward. While he couldn't see where she was reaching, he felt her fingertips against his cheek, at the hair in front of his ear.

"If I just have to think about it hard..." she murmured to herself.

He was really curious, but resisted asking in case it broke her focus. Was she performing magic on him? Was that why it felt so warm where she touched?

"Ah!" she yelped, startled, but what came out as shock quickly turned to delight. "It...it works! It works!"

"Marinette," he protested with a whine of his own, unable to stand the suspense.

"Sorry! Here, here..."

She was excited now, a far cry from the anxiety she'd shown when she first transformed. She moved back to where he could see her better, and this time he could watch as she slipped her fingertips through his bangs.

Like, well, magic, his hair changed from black to blue where she touched. He sucked in a breath, watching it spread further until she was satisfied, then she moved onto another lock of his hair. He had to grip his arms, forcing herself to stay still and not spring upwards from her contagious excitement.

She continued until his hair was dyed blue at the tips all along the front, then stepped back and jumped, limps spread in joy as she fell slowly back down. "Ta-dah! I'll do the back later too!"

He popped back up immediately, running his hand through his bangs to feel her work. Mesmerized by how simple the process had been and how perfect the magic dye job was, he let out a long, quiet, "ohhh."

She bounced up and down, then pointed at one of his hands. "Those next, those next!"

He followed the pointing to stare at it, not sure what she meant, but he wanted to know with action, not words. He leaned over once more to watch as close as he could, resting his hand flat on the table.

Marinette knelt down in front of it, placing her hands under his. With a small, "huph," she pulled it atop her lap as much as she could, then reached out towards his fingertips.

He realized what was happening before she'd started, based on where she'd touched: one of his black fingernails. She traced her hand around the outline of his nail, fixing the tiny mistakes and spreading the nail polish further in places he'd missed when he'd done it himself.

She tried to move over to reach the next fingernail when she was done with the first, but he moved his hand for her, offering her each finger at a time and then his thumb. She was elated, which he could understand for the sheer coolness factor of it all, but something in the back of his mind reminded him of everything she'd been saying, as well as what she was cut off from saying due to the transformation.

When she was done with his hand, he swapped it out for the other and asked, "What was it?"

"Mmm~?" she hummed, half of her attention on his nail polish.

"The other stuff? The magic that wasn't for the clothes," he clarified.

She stopped tending to his nails for a moment, beaming at him and answering with her full chest, "Stuff for you!" She waved her whole arm to gesture at his hand, then up at his bangs. "You kept talking about dyeing your hair, and how long it took to do your nails. I knew if I had magic, then I could do it for you!"

And that's exactly what she was doing: she couldn't have even thought about being human again until she knew that she could use magic to cure him of what was essentially a mild inconvenience. He could only stare at her, speechless, at how a big part of her wanting to be a fairy involved him.

She was amazing. The best possible friend he could've asked for. Human or fairy, she was just as magical.

"Done!" she declared as she finished the nails on his other hand, standing up to look it over one more time. "And it'll be our little secret!"

She didn't even want credit for it, another shock to his system.

"Thanks," he managed, finding his voice again. He admired his nails and bangs one last time, reminding himself to look in a mirror later to see the latter in full. "It's so cool. Really cool."

Her smile would put the sun to shame; him being happy never failed to make her happy too, which only heightened the effect this was having on him.

It occurred to him then that, if magic being real meant that fairytales might still be real too, he didn't have to worry anymore. Marinette was a fairy, not a princess, so the rules he'd imagined didn't apply to them, and she'd made it clear that he was important to her.

He might not've been a prince, but he felt like a king.

#queuekanette #lukaneventte: No Context November #Flower Arrangement Shipping #Pro LukaMari #Lukanette #Fairy Marinette Dupain Cheng #trope: Pocket Lukanette #trope: Mininette #((''Clarity you always write kids like they're marshmallows that have taken human form--'' ''Shhhh let me have this.''))

44 notes · View notes

mingi-s-dimples · 6 hours ago

Text

Good boy - Hongjoong

~ HAPPY LATE BIRTHDAY, MY SWEETHEART!! ~ @hongjoongtime117

pairing: hongjoong x fem!reader

genre: 18+, filth

summary: Your boyfriend is such, such a good boy.. and you decide to reward him for his behavior.

wc: 4.5k

warnings: established relationship, bdsm au, bdsm relationship, sub!hongjoong, dom fem!reader, hongjoong is so whiny and whimpers, reader is kinda strict but she's a good person and let's him cum ^^ lots lots of cum, handjob (two times), oral (m receiving), overstim, overwhelming, 3 orgasm, orgasm after orgasm, reader is a pleasure dom, praise, petnames, (blindfold), use of sex toys (vibrator, vibrating ring), bdsm crop (the rod with the piece of leather in one end), dacryphilia, aftercare, lots of edging and some denying, deepthroating, cum swallowing, completely consensual, unedited, for sure forgot something .

Author's Note: Happy late birthday, my lovie! I'm so so sorry for being so late w this 😭😭😭 I wanted to finish writing jt earlier but had some personal shit to deal w and didn't have time to finish writing it 😞 I hope you will enjoy it ^^ pls lmk what you think about itttt

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction and does not represent in any way the reality of the member.

Sunlight crept into the room, casting a soft glow over the lingering chaos left from last night’s movie marathon. Pillows were sprawled across the bed, blankets tangled from restless rolling and laughing, and crumpled snack bags lay scattered around the room. Somewhere in the center of it all stood Hongjoong, hair slightly mussed, looking endearingly focused as he gathered the remains.

You lingered by the door, content to just watch him, feeling a gentle warmth rise in your chest as he fussed over each detail, folding the blanket, picking up wrappers, quietly determined to restore order. He seemed completely oblivious to your presence, humming faintly as he worked, pausing every so often to shake his head at the mess with a smile that told you he didn’t mind, even if it was a bit much to handle first thing in the morning.

But as he moved around, you noticed how the soft morning light highlighted the lines of his shoulders and back through the thin fabric of his shirt, how each motion set a subtle flexing in his muscles. Just as you let your eyes trail a bit lower, he suddenly reached behind his neck, gathering the hem of his shirt in his hands before lifting it over his head. You watched, your breath catching as he tossed it aside with casual indifference.

For a moment, you were frozen, caught off guard as he bent over to grab an empty chip bag. The movement sent a ripple through his back, smooth skin and toned muscles on display, leaving you with no choice but to lean against the doorframe, taking in the sight. A smirk found its way to your lips as you planned how you were going to make this moment a little more fun.

Moving quietly, you slipped into the room, closing the door softly behind you. approaching him. Hongjoong, still unaware, continued picking up the remnants of last night. You came up right behind him and waited until he bent forward to pick up another chip bag before leaning in.

“Hard at work, aren’t you?” you murmured, voice low, teasing, just a bit too close for him to stay calm.

He jumped slightly, straightening up so quickly that he almost bumped into you, eyes widening in surprise. “Y/N! I didn’t… I didn’t know you were—uh—awake.”

You raised an eyebrow, looking him up and down with a smirk that you knew would make him squirm. “Clearly. Here I was, wondering what was making all that noise, and then I find you… cleaning up nicely. Thought I’d just admire the view for a bit.”

A flush crept up his cheeks, and he instinctively reached for his shirt, hesitating, realizing it was now out of reach. “I was just… you know, picking things up.” He fidgeted, glancing down at the floor, his usually confident gaze faltering under your eyes.

“Well, I see that,” you said, folding your arms as you leaned in, not letting him escape your gaze. “But you didn’t have to go and take your shirt off, did you? Not that I mind.” You allowed yourself a lingering look, eyes drifting down his bare torso before meeting his eyes again.

He swallowed, hands curling nervously at his sides as he tried to find his voice. “I… I just thought it was a bit warm, and, you know, I was working, so…”

You reached out, tracing a single finger down his arm, watching with satisfaction as his breath hitched and his skin tingled under your touch. “You were working hard,” you murmured, tilting your head. “And here I thought you were just trying to show off for me.”

His eyes darted away, the blush deepening as he let out a shaky laugh. “N-no, I wasn’t trying to… I mean, it’s not like that…”

“Isn’t it?” You tilted your head, letting your voice drop to a playful whisper as you leaned closer, catching the faintest hint of his cologne mixed with the lingering scent of movie night snacks. “Because, to me, it sure looks like you’re putting on a little show, Hongjoong.”

Hongjoong’s hands fumbled as he tried to look anywhere but directly at you, the usual cool, confident expression on his face melting into something softer, more vulnerable. “You’re… you’re teasing me.”

“Oh, am I?” you murmured, feigning innocence as you placed a hand on his chest, pressing lightly just to feel the quick rise and fall of his breath beneath your fingers. “Funny. Here I thought I was just… helping. Don’t you like a little help, Joong?”

He shivered at the nickname, looking up at you with wide, almost pleading eyes. “Y/N, I… I really should finish cleaning up,” he whispered, the hesitation in his voice doing nothing to hide how much he was affected by your touch.

“Oh, don’t let me stop you,” you replied, leaning back just a little, arms crossing as you watched him with a satisfied grin. “By all means, keep going. I’ll just… supervise.”

He nodded, biting his lip as he glanced around, his face red as he tried to resume his task. But each time he bent down, he seemed to become hyper-aware of your eyes on him, his movements growing slower, more self-conscious as he fumbled with each chip bag and wrapper. You had to hold back a laugh, thoroughly enjoying how flustered he’d become.

As he finally straightened up with a small stack of empty bags, you reached out, stopping him with a hand on his arm. He froze, looking down at you with wide eyes, waiting, expectant. Without breaking eye contact, you brushed your fingers along his arm, letting them linger, feeling his muscles tense slightly under your touch.

“Nice arms,” you commented, keeping your tone casual even as you noticed his breathing grow shallow. “Ever notice that, Hongjoong?”

His blush deepened, and he struggled to keep his voice steady. “I… I don’t really… I mean, I just… you know.”

You tilted your head, raising an eyebrow. “I’m not sure I do know. Care to explain?”

He stammered, clearly flustered beyond belief, his gaze shifting to the side as he whispered, “I… I don’t really pay attention to… stuff like that.”

“Well, maybe you should,” you teased, giving his arm a gentle squeeze before stepping back, savoring the adorable, helpless look on his face. “After all, it’s not every day you get compliments, is it?”

He let out a soft, almost whiny noise, glancing down at his feet as he muttered, “No… it’s not.”

Your smile softened, but you weren’t done yet. Not even close. “Good,” you said, reaching up to brush a stray strand of hair from his face. “Because I think you look amazing, and I want you to know that. Every single time I see you.”

Hongjoong’s eyes met yours, wide and vulnerable, and for a moment, the tension hung thick in the air. Then, with a shaky breath, he looked away again, his voice barely a whisper. “Y/N… you’re really… something.”

You laughed softly, reaching out to give his cheek a gentle pat. “And you’re really adorable, Joong,” you replied, letting your hand linger a moment longer than necessary. “Now, don’t let me distract you. You’ve got a room to clean.”

He nodded, looking dazed as he turned back to the mess, though his hands were shaking slightly as he continued picking up the leftover wrappers and pillows. You watched him, satisfied with the blush on his cheeks and the slight tremble in his movements, feeling more than a little proud of the effect you had on him.

As he continued cleaning, you crossed your arms, leaning against the doorframe with a smug grin, knowing you’d gotten to him. And with each little glance he stole at you, each time his hands fumbled, you could see that the teasing wasn’t something he was going to forget anytime soon. But you wanted even more.

"Okay, okay.. that's enough, sweetie." you said.

"Huh? The sheets are n-not-"

"We'll fuck them up anyway. Lay in bed." your voice lower than usual, but with the usual playful vibe.

His hands froze at your words, and a visible shiver ran through him. For a moment, he looked like he was trying to process whether you really meant it. You held his gaze, still leaning against the doorframe, and with a little nod, motioned toward the bed.

Slowly, he straightened up, cheeks flushed deeper as he left the half-finished sheets behind and made his way over, a hint of nervousness and excitement in his eyes. He lay down in his usual, comfortable sprawl—one arm draped across the pillow, legs spread out just enough to fill the space. His hair was slightly mussed from all the cleaning, and the pink on his cheeks had darkened, giving him a soft, vulnerable look.

You stepped closer, fingers reaching for the hem of his shirt, tugging it just a bit to get his attention. He tilted his head to look at you, his eyes following your every movement, anticipation clear on his face.

With a smirk, you turned and slid open the drawer beside the bed, your hand finding exactly what you had in mind. You took out a few things, giving each item a meaningful glance before setting them on the bedside table. His gaze followed every little move, the tension between you thickening as he realized what you had planned.

“Just for you,” you murmured, letting the playful tone in your voice linger as you sat beside him, your fingers trailing along his arm.

Moving your hands lower, your fingers trail along the waistband of his pants, playing with the fabric as you look up at him with a teasing smile. He bites his lip, anticipation clear in his eyes, and gives a small nod. You tug gently, guiding them down his hips and legs, letting them fall to the floor alongside his shirt.

Now, he’s fully exposed beneath you, vulnerable yet trusting, a hint of nervous excitement in his eyes. You lean in, brushing your fingers along his arm, letting him know you’re right there with him.

You keep your gaze on his face as you reach for the riding crop, allowing him to see exactly what’s coming. The crop is a slim, flexible rod, its length wrapped in cool, polished metal. At the end is a small, square leather paddle, just firm enough to make an impression but soft enough to keep things playful. You give it a little snap in the air, just to see his reaction.

He swallows, the anticipation in his eyes heightening. He’s ready, waiting for whatever you’re about to bring his way. But first, you reach over and pick up a blindfold. Its soft, velvety material slips smoothly between your fingers as you lean forward, holding it up just in his line of sight. "Close your eyes," you whisper.

As he obeys, you bring the blindfold down over his eyes, tying it securely but comfortably. The effect is immediate; his breaths deepen, his chest rising and falling under you as he sinks fully into the experience, the loss of vision making him even more acutely aware of each little sensation.

You lower yourself onto him, feeling the warmth of his bare skin against yours, and you notice his body responding. The tension between you thickens as he stifles a low groan, his arousal unmistakable beneath you.

With the crop in hand, you start at his shoulder, dragging the cool metal down slowly, letting him feel each inch as it slides over his skin. You pause just above his chest, letting the leather paddle brush lightly against him. His breath hitches, his body reacting to even the slightest touch.

"How does that feel?" you ask softly, letting him sense the smirk in your voice.

"Amazing," he breathes, his voice low and filled with need.

You let a teasing smile play on your lips as you reach over to the drawer, pulling out a sleek new surprise, its subtle hum breaking the silence in the room. A vibrator. You don’t need to see his eyes to feel the way he tenses in anticipation, a slight shiver running through him as he senses the new element you've brought into play.

With deliberate slowness, you bring the device near his skin, tracing feather-light lines along his body, testing the way he responds. Each touch brings a fresh reaction—a soft gasp, a quick inhale, his muscles tightening under your touch. His breath quickens as he tries to adjust to each sensation, the unpredictable rhythm keeping him on edge.

You make a game of it, drawing back when he seems to be getting used to one spot, then switching things up with a new touch or angle. His reactions fuel your every move, guiding you as you playfully keep him guessing, his body reacting to each carefully placed touch. Then, your hand guided the toy near his inner thighs, then to his cock. He flinched, but your immediate touch made him settle.

"You know the rules... right?" you asked, waiting for him.

"Y-yes..." he answered, already out of it.

"If you do, tell me."

"I-i should not c-cum if you dont s-say so.." he compiled to your question, a satisfactory smile rising on your lips.

"And?"

"My hands s-should always be b-behind me"

"Good boy." you said and moved the vibrator to his cock.

You got closer to him. Your left hand was resting on his thigh, making small circles onto the flesh. Your right hand was tracing lines and circles all along his entire length, achingly hard. You first circled its tip with the lowest speed, softly starting to put pressure onto it. He squirmed under your touch, muffling his moans back.

He was getting close but, you were not done yet.

You moved the free hand under the base of his cock, holding him down. You moved the head of the vibrator along the tip and the shaft, on a medium speed, then you raised it a bit. He let out a soft moan, his chest rapidly rising.

"P-please..." he pleaded.

"<Please> what? Use your words, pretty boy." you suddenly pressed the vibrator to the tip, forcefully.

"Ah, fuck! Ngh-" he moaned out, biting his lower lip.

"Use. Your. Words." you spelled it out for him, his hands barely at his back right now.

"P-please touch me again.. your hand - I need it.. p-please" he begs, nuscles tensing under your touch. A tear fell down his cheek, a playful, almost sadistic-like smile, appearing on your face.

"What a slut... aren't you?" you replaced the vibrator with your hand, "Who's slut are you?" you pumped him once.

"Y-yours! Y-yours.." he whispered.

"That's right, darling." and you decided that he deserved to cum so, you fastened your hand on his cock and the vibrator to his tip, circling it. It was already heavily leaking with pre cum, and as soon as you squeezed the tip of his cock and held the vibrator pressed to it he came, pearly white strings of cum splattering everywhere all over his lower abs and your hand, soft moans and whimpers leaving his rosy, flustered face, turning you on all over again.

You watched him, a smirk tugging at the corner of your lips as Hongjoong panted, cheeks flushed and eyes half-lidded as he looked at you for approval. The sight of him—disheveled, vulnerable, a little shy—was exactly what you'd been hoping for.

"Well, well," you drawled, crossing your arms as you let your gaze linger over him, deliberately letting the silence stretch. "Look at you. So obedient, aren't you?"

Hongjoong swallowed hard, looking down, still catching his breath. "I… I did what you asked," he murmured, voice soft and a little shaky. The red in his cheeks only deepened as he spoke.

You tilted your head, making a show of appraising him slowly from head to toe, and then you moved a step closer. "Oh, I know. You did *such* a good job, didn’t you?"

His eyes flickered up to meet yours, a hint of desperation and hope mixed in with that shy, flustered look. He nodded, biting his lip in anticipation. "Y-Yes…"

You leaned in close, your voice dropping to a whisper as you tilted his chin up gently. "Did it feel good to follow the rules, Hongjoong? To do exactly as you were told?"

He whimpered slightly, closing his eyes for a moment, the sound caught somewhere between a whine and a plea. "Y-Yes… felt… so good."

"Mmm, that's what I thought," you chuckled, enjoying how his breathing hitched as you traced a gentle finger along his jawline. "And good boys who follow the rules get rewarded. Isn’t that right?"

He nodded again, his voice coming out in a small, pleading whisper. "Yes… please…"

You smiled, letting your hand trail down to his chest and then stepping back just enough to keep him wanting. "Ah, ah, so eager. But remember, *I* decide when you get your reward."

He let out a small whine, his eyes full of anticipation and need as he looked up at you. "Please…"

"So needy for me, for my hand..." said hand travelled across his chest, over his hardened nipples, softly pinching them. As you watched him squirm under you in pleasure, you moved the same hand to his pelvis, to the base of his hard-again cock. You got closer to him, leaned down and looked at him.

"I believe you'd.. like to see this," you said and softly reached out to touch the velvet fabric on his eyes and took it off. His eyes widened at your position: you were leaning on all fours between his legs, back arching, face as close as possible to his cock.

"O-oh god, babe.. you look s-so... good." he said, stuttering.

"Do you want it, Joong? Do you want me to suck you off?"

He swallowed hard, his gaze fixed on you, desire pooling in his eyes as he struggled to catch his breath. "Y-Yes... please, baby," he whispered, his voice thick with need. "I've never wanted anything more."

A teasing smile curved on your lips. "Are you sure?" you murmured, your fingers grazing lightly along his thigh, making him shiver. "I want to hear you say it, Joong."

His hands balled into fists, knuckles whitening as he tried to hold back. "Yes," he said again, more clearly this time, his voice shaking with anticipation. "I need you... I need you so bad."

You could feel the tension between you building with every second, a delicious heat that made your heart race. "Good," you purred, finally leaning forward to give him exactly what he asked for.

You leaned in, kissing the soft skin of his tip. He squirmed slightly, adjusting to the new activity. You then went on completing your reward. Your left hand held onto the base of his cock, slightly squeezing. You leaned in and kissed the tip, then licked the shaft up and down slowly for a couple of times. He already looked out of it, breath hitching and biting his lips with every touch of yours. His chest rose up and down as you went on finally sucking his length. You took a deep breath and took his whole dick all up your throat, choking and gagging on it. He whined out, hands barely behind his back now. You looked up at him and saw how eager he was to mouth fuck you.

"What you doing with the hands, baby? Didn't we agree on keeping them away from any activity?"

"I-i know... b-but.." he said.

"What? Do you want to fuck my throat so badly?" you teased.

"Y-yes ! P-please.. please." he pleaded, looking at you with puppy eyes.

"You've been a good boy lately... should I grant you your wish? Hm?"

As you smile up at him, you see his breath hitch, his eyes widening with a mix of anticipation and vulnerability. You bring one hand to his, guiding it gently, slowly, up to the top of your head. His fingers tremble slightly under your touch, betraying how much he wants this, how hard he’s trying to hold himself back.

"Here, hold me just like this," you whisper, your voice soft but commanding. "But remember, I'm leading until I say otherwise."

He nods quickly, his gaze intense, fixated on you with a desperate, pleading look. He held onto your hair softly as you took a mouthful of his length, your head bobbing up and down, sloppy sounds escaping your mouth. He shifted under you, slowly lifting his pelvis, in search of even more friction. He was *desperate*.

You stopped for a moment, looked and him and smiled. With a mischievous glint in your eye, you let the silence stretch out, savoring the way he’s utterly at your mercy. His breathing is heavy, his eyes locked onto yours, and his whole body is tense with anticipation.

You gently stroke his cheek, running your thumb over his parted lips. "You’re so eager," you murmur, voice dripping with satisfaction. "But remember, patience is a virtue." You let your hand trail down his chest, feeling his muscles tense beneath your touch, making him wait, savoring every moment.

When you finally continue, the pace is slower, more deliberate. You want to keep him on the edge, prolonging the intensity until he can barely contain himself. He groans, struggling not to buck his hips, obeying your lead with palpable effort.

"Good," you whisper approvingly, feeling the power of the moment settle between you both.

You keep your pace steady, teasing and edging him as his breaths grow ragged. His hands grip the sheets tightly, and he’s trembling now, trying to hold on. You glance up, meeting his pleading gaze, and you can feel how close he is—he's barely holding back, right on the edge.

With a knowing smile, you take him even deeper, giving him exactly what he’s been craving. The effect is immediate; his whole body tenses as he gasps, then moans, his voice breaking into soft, needy whimpers. He’s completely undone, lost in the overwhelming sensation, as he finally came. You swallowed everything, not a single drop went to waste as you slurped his load.

You don't pull away just yet. You keep him there, drawing out every last shiver, drop, until he’s utterly spent, lying back with his chest rising and falling, his eyes glazed and dazed with satisfaction. He looks up at you, breathless and vulnerable, and you brush a gentle hand across his cheek, savoring the intimacy of the moment.

Your hand reaches into the drawer beside you, fingers brushing over various items until you find what you’re looking for—the ring. Slowly, you draw it out, letting it rest in the palm of your hand, then hold it up for him to see. His eyes widen, a mix of anticipation and apprehension flickering across his face as he realizes what’s coming.

You move closer, holding his gaze as you slip the ring over his length, positioning it carefully and pausing just a second to let him feel its presence before you turn it on. The subtle, controlled vibrations pulse through him, sending a shiver down his spine. He gasps, his body immediately reacting as his hands clench and his breathing quickens.

You begin stroking him slowly, letting the ring do its work in tandem with each deliberate movement of your hand. His head falls back, lips parted as the sensations wash over him, and you see the need building in his expression—an almost desperate, needy look overtaking his face. He lets out soft, gasping pleas, his voice barely holding steady as he begs to be allowed to finish.

“Please,” he whispers, his voice tight, almost broken, as he meets your eyes with a pleading look. “I can’t… I need to…” he said, already damn overstimulated from the other two orgasms he had.

Tears begin to gather in the corners of his eyes, spilling over as his body shudders under your touch. You stay with him in that space, keeping the rhythm unrelenting but just on the edge of what he can handle, watching as he falls apart with each stroke, each pulse of the ring. His pleas become more frantic, his voice breaking as he teeters on the edge, unable to contain himself any longer.

You tilt your head, watching him struggle beneath you, his breaths coming in sharp gasps as he clings to the last bit of control he has. Smiling, you lean in close, letting your voice drop to a whisper.

"Have you been a good boy?" you ask, letting your fingers trace teasingly down his length, just enough to keep him teetering on the edge. His face flushes even deeper, eyes glazed and lips trembling as he tries to form words, but all that escape him are whimpers.

He manages a shaky nod, voice breaking as he stammers, "Y-Yes... please… I’ve been good."

You raise an eyebrow, feigning doubt, as you tighten your grip slightly, feeling him tense up under your touch. "Do you really think you deserve it?” you continue, letting each word hang as you slow your movements to a torturous pace.

Tears stream down his cheeks as he nods frantically, desperation clear in his voice. "Yes… please… I can’t—please, I need it," he chokes out, his voice a needy, pleading whisper.

With a smile, you finally relent, stroking him firmly in time with the ring’s pulse, building him up until he can’t hold back anymore. His entire body tenses as he cries out, surrendering completely, waves of relief flooding through him. You hold him steady, drawing out each trembling shiver, watching as his face softens, the tension melting away until he’s left breathless and spent, drops of silky white cum all over your hand, his abs and the now fucked up sheets.

As he finally relaxes, you gently stroke his hair, whispering words of praise. “You did so well, love. You were perfect,” you say softly, letting your voice soothe him as you place gentle kisses along his forehead and cheeks. His breathing slowly steadies, and you wrap your arms around him, holding him close as he melts into the embrace, seeking warmth and comfort.

You keep him close, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat against you. Your fingers draw slow circles on his back as he buries his face into your shoulder, letting himself settle. After a few quiet moments, you gently pull back to meet his gaze, giving him a reassuring smile.

"How are you feeling?" you ask, your tone warm and full of care.

He takes a deep breath, a soft smile tugging at his lips as he searches for the right words. "I… I feel safe," he murmurs, his voice a little shaky but filled with a deep sense of contentment. "Thank you."

You give him another gentle squeeze. "That’s all I want—for you to feel safe and happy." You press a tender kiss to his forehead, watching as his eyes close, a calm, peaceful expression settling on his face.

NETWORKS:

@blossomnet

@illusionnet

PERMANENT TAGLIST:

#illusionnet #blossomnet #ateez fanfic #ateez x reader #ateez fic #ateez x y/n #fanfic #smut fic #ateez #ateez smut #mingi s dimples masterlist #smut #hongjoong x y/n #ateez hongjoong #hongjoong x reader #hongjoong #hongjoong sub

30 notes · View notes

queenshelby · 21 hours ago

Text

The Peaky Role (Part Four)

Pairing: Cillian Murphy x Reader

Warning: Age Gap, Best Friend's Dad

Later that day...

After you finished your last scene, at around 6 o'clock that day, a few of the cast members where quick to leave while others were hanging around.

"Are you joining us for dinner tonight?" one of the younger actors asked, flashing you a bright smile. "We often go to the pub on the corner. The food there is fantastic, and the atmosphere is totally relaxed."

You shook your head, a somewhat tired but polite smile tugging at the corners of your mouth. "Thanks, but I’m going to skip it tonight. I am pretty tired," you explained while Cillian joined the conversation beside you, his hands in his pockets.

"What about you, Cillian?" the same actor asked, raising an eyebrow playfully.

Cillian chuckled softly. "I think you already know the answer to that. No pub for me tonight."

Laughter rippled through the group. "You're such a hermit," another actor teased, nudging him but Cillian simply shrugged.

"Are all of you Irish like this?" the young man then asked, but you shook your head.

You rolled your eyes, smirking at the banter. “No, just Cillian. I’m saving money, not avoiding socializing,” you shot back, grinning, while Cillian chuckled softly, the corner of his mouth lifting in amusement before suggesting that you walk back to the apartment complex together.

As you walked out of the studio, the air felt fresher with the evening breeze nudging at your skin. Streetlights flickered on, casting an amber glow along the pavement.

"You really should think about joining them next time, to get to know some more people in the industry," Cillian said, stepping beside you as you crossed the street.

“I know, but I am actually saving money and this job does not pay well unless you are famous," you replied, your voice laced with a hint of humor, though a hint of truth lingered in your tone. “I’d rather not spend it on overpriced pub grub.”

Cillian nodded, a knowing look in his deep blue eyes. "I remember those days, believe me," he chuckled before glancing down at the street as you both walked. "I used to count every penny back when I was starting out."

You looked up at him, intrigued. “Really? You? I can’t imagine you ever struggling.”

A wry smile danced on his lips. "You'd be surprised," he replied, his gaze flickering to a passing car. "I was hitchhiking because I couldn't afford a bloody car back then. It takes a lot to get where you want to be."

You snorted. "Oh my god, did you ever get picked up by some weirdos?" you asked, a teasing grin spreading across your face.

Cillian threw his head back in laughter, the sound echoing in the quiet street. “Trust me, I have stories that would make your skin crawl.” He chuckled, shaking his head. “But I suppose that's part of the journey. You learn a lot when you’re out there.”

As approaching your hotel, the neon sign of a supermarket glowed invitingly across the street.

“I do need to grab some food, do you want to come?" he then asked as you paused at the entrance. You glanced at the bright lights illuminating the aisles of the supermarket, welcoming the idea of joining him.

"Sure, I need some stuff too," you replied, falling into step beside him as you both pushed through the sliding glass doors.

Inside, the familiar scent of produce and faint cleaning products filled your nose and you quickly seperated.

You made your way to the fast food aisle, scanning the shelves filled with instant noodles, microwave dinners, and other quick options. You pulled a packet of noodles off the shelf, squeezing it lightly before tossing it into your basket.

Needing some tacos, Cillian joined but then paused beside you, peering into your basket with an amused expression. “You really aren’t going to eat that for dinner, are you?”

You raised an eyebrow, a smirk creeping onto your face. “Why not?" you returned playfully. “It’s quick and easy. Just add hot water and voilà, dinner is served.”

Cillian shook his head slowly, a hint of disbelief in his eyes. “That’s not a dinner. You need something more nutritious to keep up your energy. How about some proper food?”

You chuckled, your gaze darting back to the lineup of instant meals. "It's fine, really. Instant noodles have been my best friend for years," you replied, tossing another packet into the basket for good measure.

Cillian raised an eyebrow, the corner of his mouth twitching with amusement as he took in the collection of instant meals. “I’m not letting you eat that," he then determined before making a suggestion.

"How about this—why don’t you join me for dinner? I am cooking anyway and you can leave after, go about your own plans as you please. But at least this way, you can eat something healthy."

You hesitated, caught off guard by the unexpected invitation. The prospect of a home-cooked meal sparked a fleeting sense of joy, but you pulled back, a grin playing on your lips.

"Cooking, huh? Look at you going all domestic even after a long day of playing a gangster," you teased, raising an eyebrow playfully.

Cillian laughed, his eyes glinting with appreciation. “Trust me, I can whip up a mean chilli con-carne. Despite, I find cooking therapeutic," he said before he paused, scanning the shelves again. “It helps me to clear my head after a long day," he explained as he selected a a few more items and tossed them into his basket. "So, what do you say?" he asked and you studied him for a moment, weighing the prospect of good food against the allure of your usual routine.

Cillian’s sincerity felt refreshing, and the idea of breaking away from instant noodles was oddly tempting .

"Alright, you’ve convinced me,” you finally agreed, a grin breaking out on your face. “I’ll join you for dinner," you said, your excitement bubbling like the instant noodles you were used to.

Cillian beamed, the tension in his shoulders easing as if a weight had been lifted. “Great! Let's just get some more things and go. It's getting late," he told you, causing you to chuckle again.

"It's not even seven o'clock," you countered, your laughter fading as you followed him through the aisles, watching as he thoughtfully selected fresh vegetables and spices for his dish.

Once done, Cillian paid and you headed straight to his apartment which, not to your suprise, was much bigger than yours.

"Now, tell me what I can do," you said, looking around as Cillian led the way into his spacious kitchen, adorned with sleek cabinets and modern appliances. "I may as well learn something while I’m here."

Cillian chuckled, setting the bags down on the counter with a soft thud. “You want me to teach you how to cook?" Cillian clarified with an amused twinkle in his eye.

“Absolutely,” you replied, leaning against the counter as you watched him pull out a cutting board and knives.

Cillian grinned, rolling up the sleeves of his shirt as he began to unpack the groceries. “Alright then, first things first—chop up these vegetables,” he said, pulling out a variety of colorful bell peppers and an onion. He handed you a knife, placing a cutting board in front of you.

"Consider it done," you said, grabbing the knife with confidence. You sliced into the onion, the crisp sound filling the kitchen as you focused intently on your task, trying to mimic Cillian’s precise chopping techniques. Cillian moved about the kitchen, his presence both calming and exhilarating. With every slice of the knife, you could feel the rhythm settling in, the usual chatter of nerves pushed aside.

“Not bad for a novice,” Cillian commented, glancing over at you while tossing the chopped peppers into a sizzling frying pan. The aroma of the vegetables mingled with the heat radiating from the stove as they began to soften.

"Thanks," you murmured, your ears flushing with pride at his compliment. “You make it look easy.”

Cillian chuckled, stirring the contents in the pan with finesse, steam rising and swirling around him.

“Practice makes perfect,” he said, glancing your way with an encouraging smile and, once the chilli was cooking, he turned back towards you.

“Now tell me, what did you think about your first day on set?" he asked and you paused, considering your answer.

“It was definitely overwhelming at first,” you admitted, your fingers stilling over the vegetables. “Walking onto that set, seeing everyone bustling about, I felt like a deer caught in headlights. There’s just so much energy and you can sense the weight of expectations in the air.”

Cillian nodded, leaning against the counter and crossing his arms, a look of understanding crossing his face. “That’s the nature of this business. The moment you step onto set, it feels like you carry everyone's ideas and needs along with you."

You nodded, letting his words sink in. “Right? But once I got into the groove of my scenes, it all sort of faded away. The adrenaline kicked in, and I felt more like myself," you finished, a content smile spreading across your face.

Cillian's gaze softened, and he nodded thoughtfully. “Well, for what it's worth, you did incredibly well for your first day," he encouraged you thoughtfully but, even before you could respond to him, you felt a little dizzy.

You paused, blinking rapidly as the colors around you blurred for a moment.

“Are you okay?” Cillian asked, concern edging into his voice as he turned his full attention to you, noticing you turning pale.

“ I'm fine,” you insisted, forcing a smile that felt thin at the edges. “Just a little lightheaded, I think.”

Cillian's blue eyes narrowed, studying you intently. “ "You don’t look fine," he said, shifting closer, concern knitting his brows together. "Have you had your insulin?" he asked and you swallowed hard, your heart racing as you realised how closely he observed you.

“Um, not for a bit,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper as you glanced down, avoiding his piercing gaze.

“Not for a bit?” His tone escalated, disbelief evident in his voice. “Where is it?" he asked and you hesitated, the urgency thick in the air as you flicked your eyes toward your bag, which you had left near the front door.

“I just... I figured I wouldn't need it for another couple of hours,” you stammered, guilt creeping into your voice as you felt his eyes bore into you.

"Come on, lie down on the couch for a minute while I get it," Cillian insisted, his voice firm yet gentle as he guided you to the living room, his hand resting on your back with a surprising warmth.

You sank into the plush couch, exhaling shaky breaths as the world slowly came back into focus. Cillian hurried off into the hallway, leaving you alone for a moment. The quiet of the apartment wrapped around you, and you closed your eyes, trying to breathe through the wave of dizziness that had washed over you.

Cillian returned moments later, his expression a mixture of focus and worry. He held your insulin pen in one hand, the tiny device feeling almost foreign as he approached.

"I need the monitor too," you murmured, your voice steadying as you reached for your bag. Cillian's eyes never left you, concern etched across his handsome features.

"What about your new monitor? The one that hooks in all the time?" he asked as he looked through your bag quickly and then found it tucked away in a pocket. He held it up with a hint of authority, as if success depended on this small device.

"I took it off for filming," you admitted, a sheepish grin escaping your lips. “Didn’t want to deal with the wires showing through my outfit.”

"Jesus Y/N," he groaned, his voice tinged with frustration but laced with concern. He set the monitor down and focused on you, his blue eyes intense. “You’ve got to take this more seriously," he lectured you just as your father would before reaching for your hand.

"Give me your index finger," he demanded gently.

With reluctant compliance, you extended your finger, feeling the warmth of his hand linger against yours.

Cillian pressed the small lance against your fingertip, the quick sting almost pleasant in its urgency. He squeezed gently until a bead of blood formed, then swiftly positioned the glucose monitor over it.

He then placed the strip into the monitor, his eyes flicking to the screen as the numbers displayed steadily counted down.

"How often do you check this?" he asked, his voice steady, though you could hear the underlying tension in his tone.

"Usually before I eat," you replied, watching him with a mixture of gratitude and embarrassment. “Sometimes after if I feel off, but…” you said as you let your voice trail off, the weight of your admission hanging in the air, palpable and heavy.

"What does it say?" you then asked and Cillian’s focus remained fixed on the screen, his brow creasing as he showed you, not really understanding the numbers.

Cillian held the monitor out, his frown deepening and you blinked at the glowing digits, your heart sinking.

"Pass me the pen," you instructed, your voice steady yet urgent. Cillian hesitated for just a moment, his expression marking concern, but then he handed it to you without question.

You grabbed it, twisting off the cap with precision. You could feel Cillian's gaze on you, the weight of his worry tangible in the air as you prepared to inject the insulin.

You lifted your shirt slightly , exposing a small area of skin on your abdomen. You quickly pushed the needle into the soft flesh, the sting a familiar sensation that calmed your racing thoughts.

Cillian shifted closer, his presence almost enclosing you like a protective barrier as you pressed down on the plunger, delivering the dose with a steadiness you’d practiced countless times before.

"All done," you murmured, placing the pen down on the coffee table, your breath gradually evening out as you felt the tension in your system loosen.

Cillian remained close, his expression softening as he watched you. “You had me worried there for a second,” he admitted, a hint of relief breaking his serious demeanor, his deep blue eyes momentarily shimmering with concern.

"Sorry to cause a panic," you replied, letting out a shaky laugh as you settled back into the couch, the tension in your body easing just a little.

You chuckled softly, the unease slowly fading as you caught Cillian's eye.

"Just relax for a bit now, okay?" Cillian said, his hand hovering near yours in a gentle reminder. “I’ll finish up the dinner, and you can sit here until you feel better.”

"Okay, thank you," you replied, sinking further into the soft cushions as relief gradually washed over you. Cillian’s reassurance wrapped around you like a comforting blanket, and you took a moment to breathe as you watched him head back to the kitchen, still wearing that focused expression. He moved with an ease that suggested this was a routine for him, perhaps a dance he had perfected over years of solitary dinners between shoots.

The sizzle of the frying pan mingled with the soft murmur of a cooking show blaring from the television, a comforting backdrop to the evening. You relaxed into the couch, the softness pulling at you as you let your mind wander in the stillness of the moment.

It felt strange to be here, sharing a meal with Cillian, your best friend's father, without her being here too. It felt wrong somehow, but you actually enjoyed his company.

Tags:

@sunbeamseas @saint-ackerman @oatmealisweird @naxxsstuff @amanda08319 @r-m-cidnah @elysiannook @cillshot @infireddabdab @tastycakee @harrysbestiee @lilybabe22 @adalynlowell @henrywintersdearestgirl @ietss @thatgirlthatreadswattpad @ryiamarie @axionn

@nela-cutie @futurecorps3 @delishen @nosebleeds-247 @thirteenis-myluckynumber @gills-lounge @hjmalmed @lost-fantasy @tiredkitten @sidechrisporn @smallsoulunknown @charqing-qing @hopefulinlove @aporiasposts @shycrybaby @me-and-your-husband @hjmalmed @lacontroller1991 @galxydefender @aporiasposts

@galxydefender @hunnibearrr @saint-ackerman @lunyyx @gentlemonsterjennie1 @ihavealotoffandomssorry @nadloves @lost-fantasy @nolucesn@mcavoy-girl @hjmalmed @bloodybagels @obeyme4life @richiesgroupie @blushykiss @tatumrileyslover @teawithsatanx @orijanko @rhaenyra4ever @xcinnamonmalfoyx @budugu @nadloves @kmc1989 @bloodybagels @obeyme4life @richiesgroupie @smailaway @sophiaaguirred @blondie-22 @hagarsays @leighla3 @meadows5 @randomcreator-09

#cillian murphy x y/n #cillian murphy imagine #cillian murphy x you #cillian murphy x reader #cillian murphy smut #cillian murphy #cillian fanfic #cillian murphy fic #cillian murphy fanfic #cillian x reader #cillian x fem!reader #peaky blinders #tommy shelby smut #tommy shelby #tommy shelby x reader

50 notes · View notes