#i will be the first to admit i never really thought about how to figure dick into that posed dynamic outside of being a bystander
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zepskies · 11 hours ago
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Oooh yay!! I'm so excited to dive into your thoughts, friend! 😜💜
I LOVE that you have notes! You spoil me. 🥰
Controlled breathing was necessary. But also, I feel like there were some great layers here. Dean allowing himself to feel good? And not just for one night. Admitting it and actually pursuing more? Yessssss. He deserves that.
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*breath in, breathe out* loll
Aww thank you for that observation! Dean's finally acknowledging and breaking down those barriers within himself for "something good." 💗
Him sleeping better with her next to him--a classic. Never gets old. <3
Exactly, that's how I feel! 🥹 (We both know I'm a sap lol)
This whole paragraph was beautiful. Also, it was a moment where, if someone simply handed it to me with no other context, I would know it was yours. It felt like you.
The way you just gripped my heart tight and gave me the warm fuzzies. 🥹🥹 "It felt like you." What an amazing compliment! Thank you, my friend. 💕
Her rings being such an identifier was a great detail that fit so well with the reveal at the end. Smart, smart writing!
Aw I'm glad you liked that! That came over from Maybe More Than Enough. I just like the idea of her having silver rings as a fashion statement, a habit, and a good hunter tidbit all in one. 💜
Loved this! Definitely have had something similar in my head while daydreaming. A little sassy, but mostly lovingly concerned. (Again, so very you.)
It's his grouchy little face -- you just wanna smooth out those frowny lines. 😂😂 Aww thank you! Sassy, but mostly lovingly concerned is how I feel like I'd try to be with him. 💗
My stomach was doing something different this time. LMAO. The end of the first section--how he still had questions but just decided to trust her and her judgment. Brilliant. And proved that he really is ready for more.
LMAO I do not blame you on that one. 🤣
Aw Dean. It's mostly that he trusts her, but I feel like it's also a little bit of him "not wanting to look needy," asking too many questions about where she's been. Even if it's both, it's still a sign that he cares and he wants to be there for her regardless.
And in that first section, I simply could not figure out what she was off doing or what it meant for them. The reveal was as satisfying as the guessing. That might actually be my favorite part of this piece--the fact that I could not figure out where it was going. But also, she spent her early morning baking him a pie? My heart got gooier than its filling! =']
Ahaha honestly I feel accomplished that I managed to stump you at first! I threw in a couple of really tiny hints, but I hoped that the reveal would be surprising and satisfying enough, so I'm very glad you think so! She really did spend half the night and the early morning prepping that damn pie for him! 😂
And it just got better from there. He forgot his own birthday? OUCH. His emotion over her gesture? Love, love, love. And their use of touch? So tender and sweet. So, yeah, I was a fan of this one. xD<3
He really did in this one! Like, I feel like the brothers don't make a big deal about birthdays as well as holidays, so with everything they always have going on, HC that Dean forgets his own birthday half the time in the later seasons. I felt like her doing this for him would be a small but significant way of her showing that she's "all in."
Thank you again SO much for your lovely comments and observations!! You totally made my day, Larrs. 💕💕
It's not his birthday yet IRL, but we're celebrating it a bit early in this story. 😂
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Restless Nights
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Pairing: Dean Winchester x F. Reader
Summary: After a tryst you instigated in the backseat of his Baby, you and Dean have started something new. He’s just not sure that you’re as “all in” as you claimed to be.
AN: As promised, here's a bonus one-shot to follow Maybe More Than Enough, though it can be read as a stand-alone. This is based on a request from @lacilou, one of my lovely Patreon members!
Bonus! It fulfills the @spnfanficpond monthly prompt. (Can’t give it away until the end though!)
Request: A Dean story based on the song “I Remember You” by Skid Row.
Word Count: 1.2K
Tags/Warnings: Angst, fluff, implied mentions of sex, bit of a twist ending… 
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Dean woke to the sound of pouring rain hitting the roof of the bunker.
It must’ve been some torrential downpour, because it took a lot for him to hear anything of the outside world from inside this place. Good thing the old heaters kept out the January cold, too. Nothing worse than frigid rain.
Blearily he cracked his eyes open, unearthed an arm from where it was tucked under his pillow, and carefully raised his phone to check the time, trying not to let the light from the screen burn his retinas in the still dark room.
4:00 a.m.
He groaned. Goddamn it.
He turned over onto his other side to face where you should’ve been lying next to him. He frowned when he saw nothing but the sheets pulled back and a dented, empty pillow.
No matter how he fought it down, a small tinge of worry, and the beginnings of disappointment churned in his gut. His brows furrowed.
Did you regret it already?
After his first make out session with you (turned more session) in the backseat of his Baby, you two struck a tentative agreement to figure what this could be—more than hunting partners, allies, and friends. Despite the fact that you kissed him first (a fact he didn’t easily let you forget), afterwards, you’d been a little hesitant about what came next.
“We take it day by day,” he’d told you, with a sizzling kiss that stole your breath. “All I know is…this feels good.”
It felt right. You had definitely agreed with that.
Dean sighed through his nose, turning back onto his other side. It wasn’t unusual for him to be a light (restless) sleeper, but the handful of times you’d joined him in his bed had been beginning to make his nights calmer. He was actually starting to sleep through until morning.
What’s more, after years of looking into your eyes and seeing all the possibilities of what if, he was finally getting to make those images solid, and real. He could touch them, taste them, feel them under his calloused hands. He finally had you for real.
He looked past your empty spot in his bed and didn’t see your phone, or any of your rings on the nightstand. They were the first things you put on in the morning, and the last things you took off at night.
If those were gone…
His disappointment was settling high in his chest now; an ache approaching pain.
Until he heard the light sound of bare feet padding back toward the bed. Your hand slid gently up his arm, and after the surprise wore off, the corners of his lips tugged upwards. Your hair was a bit wild and frizzy. It tickled his neck and shoulder when you leaned in to kiss his cheek.
“What’s this?” you whispered, swiping two fingers between the crunch in his brows. Dean relaxed with a small smile.
“Nothin’,” he claimed. His voice was deep and rough with sleep. “Had an appointment to get to or something?”
You smiled and settled into bed, embracing him from behind. He turned onto his back and welcomed you over, with an arm curling around your waist. He rested his hand on yours when it smoothed across his chest.
Subtly glancing down, he didn’t find any of the silver you wore on the daily, including the ring with a small turquoise stone he’d bought you a couple weeks ago, on a hunt in Denver. That one, you now almost never took off.
“I put them away in a drawer,” you said, wiggling your fingers under his hand. Your hand felt dry, and a little like you'd been handling something dusty. Had you been up reading in the library again, lost track of time? “When I woke up, I saw one fell off the nightstand. Have a feeling it had something to do with the bedframe knocking against it.”
At that, Dean couldn’t contain his lazy smirk.
“My bad,” he said, sounding anything but sorry.
You laughed, shaking your head. You still laid a kiss below his shoulder before you settled back down. He gave your waist a gentle squeeze, pressing a kiss of his own to your forehead. A deep breath fell from between his lips, and his eyes closed.
A question was on the tip of his tongue. Where you were, why you got up. Was it something he could help with? Or was it one of those moments you needed to have alone, not unlike the times you gave him to settle with his thoughts, after a hunt gone sideways. If it was important, you’d level with him, wouldn’t you?
So he let it be.
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In the morning, you somehow once again managed to get out of bed without him feeling it. He didn’t hear you either. Curiosity led him down the hall and glancing inside the cracked door of Sam’s room. It was empty, his running shoes gone from the side of his bed. Dean rolled his eyes.
All right, Lance.
Oh, wait, that was biking. …Whatever.
Dean’s next path inevitably took him down to the kitchen. His stomach was already percolating—in need of good coffee and (hopefully) good food.
The smell wafting from the kitchen surprised him, however. Cinnamon apples?
He turned the corner, and there he found you.
The fuck?
You looked a bit of a mess. Your hair was thrown up into a haphazard bun, and you’d stolen his apron. Though in his eyes, you made it look better, the white fabric hugging around your curves like you were Rachel Ray or something. You were frazzled when he came downstairs, but happy to see him. You beckoned him over and sat him down at the small kitchen table.
“Sweetheart, what’s going on here?” he asked, eying you curiously.
“Just stay there!” you called from the kitchen. He heard you opening the oven, cursing when you nearly dropped something.
What the hell were you doing baking before 9:00 a.m.?
He turned to ask you what was going on (and if you needed help), but before the words could come out of his mouth, you came over and carefully set down the pie in front of him. The rich aroma, the golden flaky crust, the flecks of cinnamon and glossy apples peeking out from the divots in said crust—it all had Dean’s mouth watering, and his shocked gaze fixed on the shiny pastry.
He startled a little when he felt your hands on his shoulders, sliding part of the way down his arms. You kissed the side of his head.
“Thought I wouldn’t remember, did you?” you teased. “Happy Birthday, baby.”
Dean’s throat constricted. He tried not to show it, but your gaze gentled when he finally met yours, like you were seeing through all his layers anyway. He realized then what you were probably working on last night, and he really couldn’t fucking believe it.
He’d forgotten his own birthday. Couldn’t see much use in celebrating, when year after crappy year…
But he closed a hand over yours on his shoulder, and he brought your hand to his lips.
Every word he couldn’t yet say to you was etched in that single gesture.
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AN: Short and angsty sweet! lol And the monthly prompt was "pie!" 🥧 For Dean of course. 😂
Hope you guys enjoy this one! 💜
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the-boy-meets-evil · 2 days ago
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as wild and untamable as the sea | l.c (teaser)
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pairing: greek god!chan x reincarnated sea nymph!f!reader genre: angst, smut | (very minor) reincarnation, fantasy, greek gods!au rating: explicit, minors DNI (for full fic, nothing in this teaser) word count: 850 for the teaser (TBD on full fic, prob 10k+) warnings: none for the teaser (full fic: explicit smut, past unhealthy relationships, plays with greek mythology, etc) post date: november 16th (hopefully)
summary: Chan remembers everything. Every little thing that's happened to him since his days as one of the twelve olympians. Poseidon to be exact. Even though he tries not to think about it now that he's living in modern times running a sad little aquarium, some memories are more vivid than others. Then, you stumble into his life and he can't explain the draw. You can't seem to figure out how this man is keeping an aquarium like this running when it seems like it's not that busy. Something about him really seems to put you off, despite the fact that he seems drawn to you. None of it makes any sense...until you start to remember.
a/n: this is for the 13 Gods of Olympus collab that @beomcoups & @wooahaeproductions have been tirelessly working on. thank you so much for hosting this! it's been fun (even if it's a challenge) to get lost in an entirely different world.
if you want to be tagged when i post, leave a comment or join my taglist here
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Another day, another dollar. 
Wasn’t that what the humans said about another day spent working at some mindless job? Despite all the years he’s spent blending into their world, Chan still doesn’t really understand the humans. Doesn’t really understand why they put up with so many things they seemingly hate. Doesn’t really understand why they waste their short lives on something that makes them miserable. But, in fairness to the humans, Chan has also never had to worry about the trivial things that come along with working like money, possessions, or a home. When you’re one of the original gods of Olympus and life is seemingly infinite, money isn’t really an issue. 
That’s who Chan was in another lifetime: Poseidon. The God of the Sea, among other things. At least, until Olympus fell. A painful thought that he usually tries to push from his mind.
In the early days after Olympus fell, Chan still went through life acknowledging who he was. He leveraged his powers for favors or for payment. He used his control of the water and everything in it to get him what he needed. But, the years went by and the Olympians became the stuff of myth. Of stories. The kind of characters that you read about in books. Only the most eccentric members of society continue to worship the Olympians as if they’re real. Which they are, Chan reminds himself. Or, they were. As the faith faded, so did the Olympians’ belief in restoring themselves to full power. One by one, they gave up the task of finding a way back until it was only Chan and Zeus left. Two of the brightest minds of Olympus. Even they had to admit their own defeat. 
Which leads to the present day. Chan has taken on a new persona, for the…well, he’s lost track of what number this one is. He’s just thankful for his ability to shapeshift into someone new whenever he needs to. Takes a new name every time, too. At first, he tried to keep in touch with his siblings and the other Olympians. That, too, fades over time. It’s been at least a century since he’s spoken to any of them. Though, occasionally, he’ll catch wind of something through the chattering of local sea creatures. Something that says at least some of them are still out there.
Chan sighs. There’s really no reason for him to be wandering down memory lane in this way. He thinks, not for the first time, that maybe he needs to pick a different cover job. One that will keep his mind a little more occupied. The reality is, though, he’s tried nearly everything he could think of over the centuries. Changing professions is a frequent occurrence when he doesn’t want to let his body show too many signs of age. Not that he minds, it’s just that people start to ask too many questions about how he’s handling things someone “his age” shouldn’t be able to handle. In the end, working with sea life has always been the best. And this set up, where he’s running a smaller aquarium off of some long forgotten boardwalk in an area that doesn’t get much traffic, is also great. It isn’t even that Chan doesn’t like being around people. He finds humans entertaining in most senses. It’s just that nothing in this life is permanent for him. He’s not going to fall in love and grow old with someone. Best to just keep things at arm’s length. 
Most days are more or less the same and Chan works the majority of them. On the rare days off, he’s not far away since his little house is within walking distance of both the aquarium, the boardwalk it’s on, and the water. He trusts the limited staff that he has because he pays them well. Better than any other similar business, but he values loyalty. And they don’t seem to question how he’s able to make things work. That is largely due to the anonymous donors that make monthly contributions to the aquarium. Really, it’s just Chan funneling money that he’s earned over his many years on Earth so that he can keep a business afloat. Nobody seems to have anything to say. Beyond the staff not asking questions, they are all very good at their jobs. It makes life easier for Chan that way because he doesn’t have to micromanage them. Everyone knows what they’re supposed to do and will only ask questions if they hit an actual block. No, the aquarium runs very smoothly. It just doesn’t get a lot of business.
Since every day kind of blends together, Chan almost never realizes as days or weeks or even months pass by. He’s in a sort of autopilot where he also knows what he has to do and just does it without question. It’s just rinse and repeat day in and day out. 
Until it’s not. Until the first day that he notices you in his small, out of the way little aquarium. Until the day that everything starts to change.
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brotherwtf · 1 day ago
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What happens the morning after Gale climbs up into John’s bunk in flight school? 🤭
oh my God I was waiting for someone to ask this.... let's just say Gale's having homosexual thoughts and Johns trying to figure out the meaning of the word
----
Gale tried not to think about it.
He tried not to think about what he had done, what he had so foolishly done because he was caught up in the heat of the moment, caught up in his stupid queer feelings for John. He tried not to think about how John tasted, how he felt heavy in his mouth, tried not to think about the salty bitterness of his come.
He also tried not to think about how John seemed to want him to stay, he seemed like he was reaching for Gale when he pulled away, but Gale was definitely reading into that.
He said they would talk in the morning, but Gale decided he was going to go on a run. To try and forget about it, he reasoned. He did about three laps around the base before the thoughts of John's breathy moans clenched fists came back to him, and he finally decided to go back to the barracks. John was likely gone, he probably had missed him. At, least, that's what he hopes.
But John was sitting at his desk, reading Gale's book of poems with his eyebrows furrowed and Gale knew that this conversation had to happen at some point.
"Morning," Gale says, his voice thick and a little scratchy. He winces at the thought of what could have caused it.
John gives him a tight lipped smile, one that conveys he has a thousand things to say but no idea how to say it and it's ripping Gale apart inside.
"So..." John starts but Gale just interrupts him.
"I'm sorry, John. I shouldn't have done something like that, it was foolish and wrong and I understand if you want nothing to do with me anymore. I can move out, we can never talk again, I'm just so fucking sorry, John," Gale pleads.
John pauses, mouth hung open in slight confusion as he looks at Gale. He doesn't seem angry or upset, like Gale thought he would be, he just seems so conflicted.
"What? Buck, no, I swear I'm not mad, really. I'm just... I don't understand it because I liked it. I liked it a lot... when you did it," John says and hell must have frozen over because for the first time in John's life he looks embarrassed to admit that, a pretty flush painting John's cheeks pink.
It's Gale's turn to balk, completely taken aback by the tender confession. His mind is spinning. John liked it, he liked it. He didn't hate Gale or think he was a no good queer for what he had done.
"You liked it?" Gale asks carefully and John shakes his head, scrubbing a hand down his face and sighing.
"Yeah? I did, Buck, I liked it when you did it," John admits.
Gale walks closer to John, slowly, until he's standing right in front of him and has to peer down to look at him.
"What does that mean for us, John?" Gale asks, voice barely above a whisper.
One of John's hands experimentally comes up to hold Gale's hand, tries interlacing their fingers and sighs, expression still confused.
"I want to try it, I want to try doing this... whatever this is... with you. You've got me hooked, Gale," John admits, and that's when Gale leans down to kiss him.
It's something tender, just the pressing of lips together with their fingers interlaced, Gale has to bend down a little bit to slot their lips together but it feels good, it feels correct. John's lips are warm and there's a slight scratch of stubble from the scraggly mustache he's been trying to grow, but everything feels right, it feels good, and Gale can't help but smile.
He pulls away and gives John a sweet smile, which he returns and squeezes Gale's hand between his.
"Yeah, let's try it," Gale admits and he leans down to press another tender kiss to John's lips.
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javierpena-inatacvest · 8 months ago
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Whatever My Wife Wants
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Summary: On your honeymoon, Javi decides to break out a new accessory you've never seen him wear before. Little does he know, that seeing him wear a chain for the first time is about to drive you wild.
Word Count: 4.5K
Pairing: Husband!Javier Peña x Wife!Reader (no use of y/n)
Warnings: SMUT (18+), unprotected p in v sex (do better, but also its your honeymoon so who am I to say), oral (f receiving), vaginal fingering, paise kink, literally the biggest, fattest, ugliest breeding kink (I'd say I'm sorry, but I'm not), marriage kink (?) creampie, cum play, kind of exhibitionism (like if you SQUINT), talks of starting a family, Javi LOVES his wife, Javi in a CHAIN, Javi on his honeymoon deserves its own warning, did I mention that Javi LOVES his wife?!
A/N: shoutout to my sweet @honeyedmiller for this request after reblogging this MASTERPIECE from @enstatia. It's supposed to be a painting of Din, but it gave me such big Javi vibes, and I really haven't been the same since picturing the one and only Javier Peña in a chain (bc If i can't unsee it, you shouldn't be allowed to either) 😵‍💫 Also shoutout to Lucien Flores for singlehandedly ruining my life today with that new clip from the Uninvited (but also you can't tell me that this outfit is so Javi on the beach coded PHEW)
Can be read as a standalone or as a part of the Never Too Late Series!
Javi had never been one for jewelry- well, that was until a few days ago when a new golden wedding band had made a home on his hand. Since you had slipped it on his finger, Javi couldn’t get enough of watching it glisten in the warm, tropical sunlight on your honeymoon, a reminder that filled his heart to the brim to know that he was yours forever. 
Javi’s new wedding ring was the only jewelry that he had ever pictured himself wearing, until you had mentioned to him in passing while shopping for new clothes for your honeymoon how good he’d look with a chain to go with any of his outfits he had planned for the trip- considering there was no way Javi was going to have no less than 4 buttons undone on his shirt at any given time while basking in the tropical warmth of your honeymoon paradise. 
Later on that week, he had dug around in his dresser to find a thin, golden chain necklace he had back from his time in college, that hadn’t seen the light of day in too many years to count. But, given your enthusiasm for the idea of him wearing something like it, Javi had decided to pack it with him in his suitcase to surprise when the time felt right. 
Well, after being a few drinks deep at the pool bar from earlier, Javi’s slightly tipsy confidence had him feeling like now was the perfect time to try out his new accessory to see what you thought. Digging through his suitcase, he pulled out out the chain to go with the rest of his outfit for your dinner on the beach, clipping the necklace around his neck as he looked himself over in the mirror, quickly fixing his hair and adjusting his shirt, undoing one more button than probably necessary to show off his new look. 
And while he could admit that he didn’t look half bad with it on, and figured you’d like the new surprise addition to his wardrobe, there’d be no way in hell he could have ever prepared himself for the viscerally awestruck reaction you’d have to the thin, gold chain dangling around his neck.  
“I can practically feel you burning a hole through my chest, Hermosa.” Javi chuckled, raising an eyebrow at you as he took another bite of his food, giving you a playful smirk at the way you had been ogling at him ever since you had noticed the thin gold chain resting across his tanned skin as you began your walk through the hotel to head to dinner. 
“Oh shut up, it’s not my fault you’re so hot. You’re making it very hard not to look, in my defense.” You sighed, trying to get yourself to focus on your food instead of staring at Javi for the rest of dinner, despite the fact that the only meal you had your eyes on was sitting across the table from you. “There’s already something about you being my husband that makes you somehow even hotter than you already were, and now with this?” You picked up your fork, gesturing to the chain dangling between the parted fabric of Javi’s shirt, “I think you may be trying to legitimately kill me.” 
“Figured you’d like it. Didn’t think you’d like it this much.” Javi smirked, biting down on his lip before taking another bite of food, his cheeks growing flushed and warm as he looked at you admiring him, wondering how in the hell he had gotten so goddamn lucky. “Thanks, Mrs. Peña.” He laughed, taking another bite of his food, shooting you a quick wink. 
Mrs. Peña. 
God, if that alone wasn’t enough to send you over the edge already, your new last name, combined with the incredibly attractive man you had gotten it from that you now got to call your husband? On top of that stupidly hot chain he had decided to throw on with his outfit? There was definitely something else you were hungry for other than the half cleared plate below you. 
It was then that you couldn’t have been happier you had been seated at a table on the edge of the beachside boardwalk, tucked behind a few stray palm trees, secluded enough out of view that you had no problem reaching under the table to rest your hand on Javi’s knee, toying with the hem of his shorts before letting your fingers creep further and further up his thigh. 
“Are you almost done with your food?” You asked, your voice sweet and sultry as your hand brushing against Javi’s crotch immediately caught his attention, making his eyes go wide as he sat up straight, setting down his knife and fork to look down in his lap. “Because if you are, I can think of something else I want for dessert when we go back to our room. Something I want really bad. You wanna feel how badly I want it?” 
Javi swallowed hard as your fingers wrapped more firmly around his bulge, gently massaging his dick in your grasp, before grabbing his hand and guiding it to brush along the slit of your sundress and closer to your core, aching and dripping with arousal. Letting his fingers creep up the inside of your thighs and ghost over your folds, his eyes went even wider, jaw practically dropping open to feel that you were not only absolutely soaked, but also not wearing any underwear at all. Using every ounce of composure he had to keep from falling apart right then and there at the dinner table, letting out a deep sigh as he cursed under his breath. 
“Jesus fucking Christ. Fuck, baby… Yeah, I can be done right now.” He groaned, nodding at your proposition before wrapping his hand around the meat of your thigh as he took a long inhale, staring you down with darkening eyes and a devilish grin across the table. 
Never had you been more thankful that the resort you had picked to stay at was all inclusive, because if either of you had to wait a minute longer for a server to get your bill so you could get back up to your room, the probability of impending implosion would have been practically inevitable. 
Firmly intertwining your fingers with his as  you grabbed his hand, you were nearly dragging Javi through the hotel to the nearest bay of elevators, pleasantly shocked to find no one else waiting with you to travel up to their room, leaving the two of you alone to catch the next elevator back up to your floor. 
Without a word, the second the elevator doors had closed, the two of you were on top of each other, a messy dance of tongue and teeth crashing together, Javi’s hands palming the meat of your ass over your dress while yours roamed over his chest, tracing the freckles of his tanned skin up to the golden chain dangling in the open buttons of his shirt, stopping to wrap the necklace around your finger, tugging Javi closer to you. 
“Fuck, you look so good with this on, baby.” You moaned, your words hot against Javi’s skin as you nipped at his neck, chain still tangled in your grasp. “I can’t wait to fu-”
Barely aware of the fact that you had reached your floor, the ding of the elevator was enough to catch your attention and cut you off from completing the rest of your thought before the doors slid open, revealing a group of couples waiting for their ride down to the lobby. Frantically trying to play off the fact that if the elevator ride had gone any longer, you two definitely would have been seconds away from fucking in it, you gulped, giving Javi a nudge to his ribs to bring him back to reality, the two of you quickly trying to slide past the other guests without making a scene. 
As the door closed behind you, you and Javi couldn’t help but giggle at the fact that you couldn’t seem to take an elevator trip alone without almost being caught making out like a pair of horny teenagers (which, to be fair, a pair of horny teenagers probably would have had more self control than the two of you being newlyweds on your honeymoon). 
With your room only being a few doors down from the elevator, Javi began fumbling in the pocket of his shorts for his room key, working around the full hard on he already had under the fabric from how pent up he was. Quietly cursing under his breath until he found it, as soon as the card was swiping over the lock of the door, Javi was yanking you through into your room, instantly beginning to pull down the zipper to the back of your dress as you fumbled your way back to the bed. 
Your dress fell to the floor in a crumpled pile before Javi was tossing you onto the mattress, shocked to see that you also hadn’t even bothered to put on a bra, revealing your glowing skin and obnoxious tanlines from your time spent out in the sun. 
“Dirty fucking girl, not wearing anything underneath that dress for me. Fuck me, Hermosa. God, you’re so beautiful. So fucking perfect. My perfect wife.” Javi growled, dropping to his knees at the edge of the bed to part your legs, draping them over his shoulders as he admired the wet mess between your thighs, your slick already coating your folds, glistening in the dim light of your hotel room. “My perfect wife and her perfect fucking pussy already so wet for me. 
Dragging his fingers through your folds, collecting your arousal as he ghosted over your throbbing clit, you let out a soft whimper in protest, sitting up on your elbows to look down at Javi, peppering kisses along the soft skin of your thighs. 
“Javi, fuck- Baby, I wanted to go down on you. You look so good, I-I wanna taste you, Jav, p-please.” You moaned, your argument becoming less and less convincing as his kisses traveled to your center, nose brushing against your aching bundle of nerves before looking up at you with a lustful smirk, tightening his grip around your hips to hold you in place. 
Javi shook his head as he laughed quietly to himself, watching you squirm and buck your hips towards his face, so desperately worked up and aching that the mess between your legs was really beginning to contradict your need to get Javi off before yourself. 
“Cariño…” Javi tutted, almost mockingly, digging his fingertips deeper into the meat of your flesh, “You’re not going anywhere ‘till I get a taste. I can’t leave my poor wife all worked up like this, can I?” 
Before you had a chance to respond, the flat of Javi’s tongue was dragging through your heat in a long, broad stroke, firmly pressing against your clit, looking up at you with a satisfied grin as you threw your head back in pleasure, a soft whimper escaping from your parted lips. As the last of his lick slid through your folds, you shuttered at the feeling of the metal of his chain ghosting over your cunt as it dangled from his neck, only to cry out as you could feel the other piece of jewelry he was wearing on his left ring finger sink deep into your entrance. 
“Oh f-fuck-” You whimpered as another finger breached your tight hole, already sucking him in with your warm, wet walls while his digits curled, bumping against the sweet spot inside you that he knew made you crumble. 
“That’s it, baby girl.” He cooed, thrusting his fingers in and out of your cunt before diving back between your legs like a man starved, his tongue dancing in a swirling pattern of flicks and strokes between your folds as he lapped you up. You could feel yourself rolling your hips against his hand, whining at how thick and full he felt inside you, even more so now with the wedding band that had made its permanent home on his finger, taking every chance he could get to watch you cover the glistening gold ring in your arousal as yet another way to prove that you were his. 
Javi could feel your pussy beginning to flutter around his fingers as your bottom half squirmed against the sheets of the bed, the knot in your stomach beginning to tighten, tingling building at the base of your spine. Latching his lips around your clit, he began to suck at your sensitive nub, his hand thrusting faster and deeper into your cunt, feeling you slowly coming undone under his touch. 
“Oh shit- fuck, fuck, Javi, I’m so close baby, oh fuck, fuck, I’m gonnaaahhhhhh-” Just like that, you were falling over the brink of collapse, your orgasm crashing through you like a tidal wave, pleasure flowing through every inch of your veins as you met your high, feeling the smirk of Javi’s smile pressed against your cunt as you soaked his face, his free hand wrapped around your hip, holding you in place for him. 
“Fuck, I swear, I’ll never fucking get over that.” Javi mewled, pulling back enough to sit on his heels, admiring the wet and puffy mess your pussy had become, gently pulling his fingers out of your heat, looking down at the way your arousal coated his fingers, covering his wedding band. “Fucking soaked me, Hermosa. You like feeling my ring when I touch you like that, baby? Knowing I’m all yours forever?” 
With your chest heaving in heavy breaths, you nodded frantically, blissed out look plastered across your face as you stared up at Javi, lust pooling in the dark brown of his eyes as he brought his soaked fingers to your mouth, tugging at your bottom lip as, opening your mouth for you to suck him clean, the warm and tangy taste of you still fresh on his skin. 
“You taste so fucking sweet, baby. Mi esposa sabes muy dulce.” (My wife tastes so sweet) Javi cooed, gently tugging his fingers out of your mouth, standing up to lean over the bed, caging your body under his as his lips crashed against yours in a needy mess of longing and desperation. 
You could feel how painfully hard he was through the fabric of his shorts, his bulge straining against the seams of his zipper as he rubbed against your thigh, laying on top of you with one arm propped up beside your head, the other gently cupping your face, thumb rubbing back and forth along your cheek as he kissed you with the tender intensity that set your insides ablaze with desire, longing, no, needing to feel him buried deep inside you as you screamed his name. 
It really had been your intention to suck Javi off the moment you had gotten back to your room, to drop to your knees and worship the beautifully handsome man you now got to call your husband and turn him into the same type of moaning, whimpering mess that he had just made you, but with the ferocity of each kiss and the instinctual jerk of Javi’s hips, there was nothing you wanted more than to be filled by the sweet sting of his cock pounding into you, over and over.  
“J-Javi, fuck- I need to feel you baby, please. Fuck, I wanna feel you so deep inside me.” You whispered, your teeth tugging at Javi’s earlobe as he peppered your jaw and neck with kisses, feeling the audible groan in his chest at your request, followed by a deep sigh as he tried to compose himself from the mess he was already becoming. 
“Yeah? That’s what you want, sweet girl? Whatever my wife wants, my wife gets.” He rasped, a devilish grin spread between his cheeks as he sat back to pull his shirt over his head, followed by his shorts and boxers, leaving him in nothing but the gold chain still dangling around his neck as he reached down to stroke his cock, red and dripping with precum before leaning back down to line up with your entrance. 
You could feel your breath hitch as his tip brushed through your folds, rubbing gently against your clit as he collected your arousal to coat his length, looking down to watch as his length sunk deep into your cunt, the both of you letting out ragged moans at the sensation. 
Javi paused for a moment, letting you adjust to the sweet sting of his stretch as he filled you, his tip kissing your cervix while his hips met yours. The fullness made your brain go blank, completely at a loss for words as he began to slowly thrust in and out of you, pulling himself out enough to sink his whole length back into your cunt, each thrust making you whimper and moan, desperate for more. 
“F-fuck, give me more, baby, you feel so good.” You whined, your hand wrapping around his bicep, fingertips digging into his flexing muscles. 
“Yeah? You want more, Hermosa?” Javi mewled, smirking to himself at the blissed out mess you were already becoming as the pace of his hips rutting into you began to quicken. 
As each thrust became faster, the gold chain draped around his neck began to bounce against his chest, his body close enough to yours to feel the cool metal brush against your face with each snap of his hips into yours, the sight of his necklace dangling over you as you stared up at the furrowed and focused look painting his face. The image alone of him wearing that chain was enough to make you feel like you were going to cum on the spot, but as you lay caged beneath the weight of his broad body, feeling nothing but his warm skin and chain rub against you, you were nearly convinced it was going to be over for you right then and there. 
Without even thinking, you lifted your head up off the bed just enough to grab the chain between your teeth, tugging him closer to you, the sudden yank making his eyes go wide in surprise as the two of you came nose to nose, foreheads brushing against each other before his lips were on yours again, entangling you in an all consuming kiss without faltering in his pace. 
“Fuck, you look so good.” You moaned, your lips parting just enough from his to whisper your praises into his ear. “You look so hot with this fucking chain, Jesus Christ.” 
Your comment had a low, breathy laugh escaping from his chest, shaking his head to himself almost in disbelief at how enthralled you were with him. 
“Me? Baby girl, you have no idea.” He cooed, slowing his thrusts to sit back on his haunches, readjusting you to bring your knees pressed to your chest, leaning back down, running his hands along your body, up your arms until he had them above your head, pinned down to the bed in his grasp. “You know how many guys I’ve seen staring at you since we’ve been here? How many dirty fucking looks I’ve had to give them? Maybe this ring on your finger isn’t enough, mi amor.” 
“W-what do you, fuck- what do mean?” You whimpered, the new position opening you up in a way that had you feeling every inch of Javi as he sank his cock even deeper into your cunt, splitting you open in the most delicious way possible, your brain barely working enough to let your words escape from your mouth. 
“I mean,” Javi groaned, tightening his grip to hold you in place, his eyes growing darker with desire with another deep, long thrust into your heat, “That maybe, I need to fuck a baby into, Osita. Fuck a baby into my beautiful fucking wife, and let everyone see that you’re mine with our kid growing inside you.” 
Javi’s words sent a shiver down your spine, the thought alone making you whimper- You and Javi both had undeniable cases of baby fever, and now that you were finally married and had agreed that your birth control wasn’t going to be a part of your packing list, the prospect that in 9 months from now, you could have a third member to your family? That was enough to have you close to finishing right then and there. 
 A gulp traveling down your throat before a long exhale, trying to find the words to respond to his proposition, your voice trembling in an anxious excitement. 
“F-fuck- Oh my god, yes. Fuck a baby into me, Javi. Let me, oh shit- let me make you a daddy.” 
“Jesus Fucking Christ…” Javi groaned, gritting his teeth, trying his best to maintain his own composure, taking a long exhale before his gaze met yours again, a fierce kind of determination and promise pooling in the deep chocolate brown of his eyes, leaning his body on top of yours, pushing your knees closer to your chest, opening you up to an even deeper angle as his mouth crashed into yours, beginning to pick up his pace once again as his hips snapped into yours. “That’s what  you want, Hermosa? Fuck, I’ll give it to you, baby. Oh shit- Whatever my wife wants, my wife gets, remember? You want a baby? Fuck- I’ll fuck myself so deep inside you I’ll fuck a baby into you right now.” 
You could feel the all too familiar tingle beginning to build at the base of your spine once again, Javi’s cock pounding perfectly into your g-spot over and over again, the hairs at the base of his length grinding against your throbbing clit, sending you to the brink of collapse with each thrust in and out of your cunt. 
“Yes, oh my god- yes, I w-want it so bad. P-please, baby, fuck.” You whined, starting to stumble over your words as you could feel your pussy beginning to flutter around his cock, the coil in your core tightening to the point of nearly snapping. 
“Fuck- say it again. Tell me- mierda- tell me how badly you want it.” Javi moaned, his thrusts becoming slopier and more desperate as he could feel himself on the verge of chasing his own high, knowing all too well you were almost hitting yours.  
“I want you to fill me up, Javi. Fuck, fuck, fuck- I want it so bad. I want you to knock me up and give me a baby, please, baby, oh my god- please.” You were all but panting at this point, your legs starting to tremble as your cunt clenched tighter and tighter around Javi’s cock, the overwhelming sensation of his fullness, promise of pregnancy, and that damn chain dangling in your face was enough to finally send you over the edge. “Fuck, Javi, fuck, fuckfuckfuck, I’m so close baby, I’m gonna, oh shit- I’m gonna cu-ahhhhhhh.” 
Those were the last words you were able to muster before you were screaming out Javi’s name as you came, euphoria and ecstasy radiating through every inch of your body, your orgasm crashing through you with so much intensity you could have sworn you were seeing stars. 
Watching you fall apart beneath him, soaking his cock in your arousal as you came had Javi only moments behind you, the rhythm of his hips beginning to stutter, the lewd sounds of your skin slapping against each others combined with your wanton moans and whimpers and curses under your breath making him begin to babble incoherently. 
“That’s it, Osita. That’s my good girl. Fucking soak my cock, baby. Cum all over me before I, fuck me- fuck myself so deep in you it’ll fucking take. Holy fuck- Fuck, I’m gonna cum too. Gonna fucking fill you up. Give you all of me. Fuck, I’ll give you everyting, baby, mierda- everything you’ll ever wa-ahhhhhh” 
With one last final thrust, Javi was spilling deep inside you, warm ropes of his spend coating your walls, milking himself of every single last drop before collapsing on top of you, the warmth and weight and of his body sinking on top of your chest as the two you sighed in sync, trying to catch your breath with long, labored huffs. 
As Javi felt himself begin to soften, a groan rumbled low in his chest while he pulled out, feeling the mix of your spend dripping out your hole, coating the inside of your thighs in glistening juices. You let out an involuntary whimper at the loss of fullness inside you, your head falling back on the mattress in blissed out satisfaction, squeezing your eyes shut, trying to bring yourself back to reality after floating away in post-colotial bliss. 
“Holy fuck…” You whispered to yourself, lifting your head back up to see Javi sitting back on his heels, admiring the mess of the two of you pooling between your legs. 
“So fucking pretty, Hermosa.” He mewled, peppering kisses down the soft skin of your thighs, making his way back towards your core. Before you could even realize what was happening, Javi’s head was back between your legs, one broad stroke of his tongue collecting the tangy, salty mixture leaking out of your cunt and lapping it back into your entrance quickly replacing his mouth with his fingers to push the mixture of your spend even further into you. 
Looking up at you, slick covering his mustache and smug grin spread between his cheeks, Javi curled his fingers just enough to make you yelp as he pressed against your g-spot, considering how worked up and overstimulated you already were. 
“Gotta make sure I keep you full of me, baby. Can’t let anything go to waste.” Javi smirked, gently pulling out his fingers, resting his hands on your thighs, drawing soft circles on your skin with his thumbs. 
You tried to sit back up, propping yourself on your elbows before Javi’s body was caging over you once again, slowly lowering himself down until your back was flat against the bed, cradling your jaw as guided you down with soft, slow kisses, feeling his chain brush against your chin he pulled away from your lips. 
“You’re not going anywhere, Momma. My wife wants a baby? Then I’m doing everything I can to give her one. Whatever she wants.” Javi smirked, pressing a tender kiss onto your forehead as his hand caressed your face, brushing your skin just gently enough to tickle you, a little giggle escaping from your lips as your eyes met his sweet puppy dog ones. 
“You’re ridiculous, you menace.” You laughed, playfully nudging Javi as he rolled over next to you on the side of the bed, wrapping his arm around you, tugging you to lay against his bare chest, your hand draping over his stomach before crawling up his chest, wrapping his gold chain around your fingers. “Hmmmm whatever your wife wants, huh?” You smirked, looking up at him with a mischievous grin. 
“Whatever she wants, Hermosa.”
“Your wife wants you to never take this damn thing off again.” 
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whytheylosttheirminds · 1 month ago
Text
Don't Call Me Kid - Chapter 5 (part two)
(Rafe Cameron x Reader series, 3.8k words)
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series summary: You'd had a crush on Rafe Cameron since you were six years old, but he friend zoned you at every turn. Once shy and insecure, you found new confidence and self-love after high school. When your high school friends go on a reunion beach trip, Rafe finally sees what he lost, but he isn't going to give you up without a fight.
tropes: unrequited crush, glow up, she fell first/he fell harder
series content: some angst, eventual fluff, slow burn, tomfoolery and shenanigans, drinking, fem!reader has occasional insecurity and body image issues
⇢ series masterlist
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Years later, you’d still wonder if Topper did it all on purpose. 
When you asked him, he’d just wink and say “bet you’d like to know.” 
As your group walked down the dock towards the rental kiosk, Topper pulled out his phone, grinning down at the screen.
“What’s funny?” Carter tried to read over his shoulder.
“Nothing,” he tucked his phone in his pocket quickly, failing to hide the cheeky look in his eyes, zero poker face. “Kelce is coming.”
The guy Carter had haggled with brought your group over to the three jet skis and gave you a demonstration on how to drive them. You weren’t paying very close attention, more focused on the uneven pairing of the five of you and how to ensure you didn’t end up on the same jet ski as Tom. His rudeness this morning was the final nail in the coffin of your crush.
The guy gave Carter three keys, and you met her eyes, knowing she was thinking the same thing. 
Topper looked at Carter hopefully, his big puppy dog eyes watching her with anticipation. You felt for him, the two of you really weren’t all that different. Sure, he’d gotten to hook up with Carter plenty of times, his crush not totally unrequited, but she’d never given him what he really wanted. At the end of the day, you were just two people who were really good at loving people who didn’t love you back. Still, you knew in your heart of hearts that Carter did love him back, even if she wouldn’t admit it. Maybe you would never get your dream, but you could make sure that two people you cared about got theirs, and that might be the only thing that made this all worth it.
You planned it out quick, knowing Carter was seconds from asking you to ride with her so you wouldn’t be with Tom, and also knowing that what she really wanted was an afternoon alone with Topper.
“I told Kelce I’d ride with him,” you blurted out. 
“Did you?” Carter asked skeptically, trying to figure you out.
“Yeah, I think he’s still worried I’m mad at him,” you made up off the top of your head. “Thought I’d throw him a bone.”
Carter watched you the whole time she boarded the back of Topper’s jet ski, telling him to wait up so they didn’t leave you alone. Tom and Sabrina didn’t seem to care about leaving you, speeding off the second they climbed on their jet ski, Sabrina’s over-the-top shrieks echoing through the air.
“That bother you?” Topper asked when he caught you scowling in their direction.
“Actually, I’m thinking they might be made for each other,” you concluded.
“So you’re not, like, into him?” Topper asked hopefully.
“Not anymore. That ship sailed so quick,” you snorted.
“Ah,” he tried to play it cool, “good to know.” 
“Don’t get any fucking ideas,” Carter warned him.
“I didn’t say anything!” He insisted.
“You don’t have to, you have zero poker face,” Carter said. “No Tom does not equal yes Rafe.”
“I’m just saying it’s good to know. Am I not allowed to know things?” 
You rolled your eyes at their bickering, less than surprised they were having this conversation right in front of you.
“Y’know, you guys can just take off, I’ll be fine waiting for Kelce,” you offered, desperate to move this conversation about your love life out to sea and away from you.
“Right, Kelce,” Topper nodded. “Kelce is coming.”
“Why are you being so weird?!” Carter squinted at him.
“I’m not! I just wanna go!” Topper revved the engine of the jet ski.
Carter looked at you one more time, checking that you were okay with this.
“Have fun!” You said to reassure her.
That’s all Topper needed to hear, he hit the throttle and pulled away from the dock as fast as he could. Carter’s laughter filled the air, she grabbed him tight and tucked her chin in the crook of his shoulder as he drove. She was happy, so you were happy. Your whole life, that’s really all it took, and you knew she felt the same way about you.
With that lovely thought, you climbed on the jet ski so you’d be ready to go as soon as Kelce arrived. 
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Rafe held the keys a little too tight, Kelce struggling to pry them from his hands.
“You gotta take it easy on the clutch, she’s sensitive.”
“I know how to drive, man,” Kelce wriggled the keys from his grip as he climbed into the driver’s seat of Rafe’s truck.
Rafe stalled by the door for a minute, his feet suddenly feeling very heavy. He looked around the marina, scanning for the group. His heart skipped a beat when he found only you, bobbing in the water on your jet ski all alone.
He’d texted Topper a head’s up that he was coming and asked him to let you know. He didn’t want you to think he was in on Topper’s dumbass scheme to get you two together. If he was gonna do this he was gonna do it right, not try to trick you into it.
Now you were waiting for him, looking so gorgeous with your legs on either side of the seat and your hair blowing gently in the wind. 
Usually, he didn’t call girls beautiful, typically opting for hot, or sometimes pretty if he was drunk. But the only word for you right now, and always, was beautiful.
“You gonna let me leave, man?” Kelce asked, gesturing to Rafe’s hands, still clutching the handle of the door.
“Yeah, sorry,” Rafe pulled away, wiping his hand against his board shorts when he realized it was clammy, the sight of you making him nervous in a way he had never been before.
“What’s got you so worried? Are you scared of her or something?” Kelce mocked him.
Rafe was surprised that Kelce had actually caught on to who he was looking at, giving him an annoyed eye roll.
“I’m not scared of her,” he defended himself.
“Don’t even worry about it man, I bet she’s still wrapped around your finger.”
Rafe shot Kelce a steely warning look he’d given him a thousand times.
“I’m just saying, you don’t need to worry,” Kelce explained. “You’re the man.”
Kelce was an idiot, and he spent a good ninety percent of their friendship pissing Rafe off, but he always tried to hype Rafe up. Usually he was annoyed by it, but right now, he actually needed it.
You used to talk about him that way, too. Oh, the money he would pay for you to see him in a good light again. He’d swim across this entire bay just to hear one kind word about him coming from your lips. 
“Nah, I’m really not,” he shook his head slightly, looking back toward you. “But I think with her I could be.”
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The audacity, the fucking nerve of him to come strolling down the dock looking that good. The sun actually broke through the crowds at his arrival, like he’d bribed the gods. He strolled towards you so casually, his grin easy, like he didn’t know he was the most attractive man you’d ever seen in real life. It pissed you off.
“What are you doing here?” You snapped at him when he reached you.
His grin faltered, like he was the one surprised to see you.
“Didn’t Topper tell you I was coming?” He asked.
“No, of course he didn’t,” you said, finally understanding the reason for Topper’s strangeness earlier.
“I asked him to,” Rafe swore. “I didn’t want to make you think I was trying to-”
“I think I’m just gonna go alone,” you cut him off, turning the key in the engine of the jet ski, desperate to put an ocean between you and him before he said another considerate thing that he’d just undo later. “You can rent your own.”
“No can do,” said the owner, arriving to hand Rafe a lifejacket. “This is our last one. You better take your boyfriend with you, sweetheart.”
You rolled your eyes at the situation and the misogynistic comment. 
“He’s not my boyfriend,” you mumbled. 
Rafe felt the correction was unnecessary, but you didn’t seem to be in the mood for constructive feedback at the moment.
“Is it cool if I, uh, can I come with you?” He wasn’t walking back down this dock without trying.
“Fine,” you agreed reluctantly. “But I’m driving.”
“Good with me,” he climbed on quickly before you could change your mind.
With a kick that sent you both lurching forward, the jet ski roared as you tightened your hand on the throttle. Instinctually, Rafe’s hands landed on your side, holding you both in place. You only had a second to feel the pads of his fingers clinging to the soft skin of your waist before he pulled them away.
“Shit, sorry,” he said.
The guy on the dock leaned forward to push the jet ski from the dock, redirecting you out toward the bay.
“No, actually you should hold on,” he instructed. “These babies go fast and it’s a little choppy out there today. Take it real easy out of the marina and then you can kick it up when you’re in open water.”
You could feel Rafe’s hands twitch with hesitancy before they rested on your sides again, so lightly you wondered if he was actually touching you at all.
With a push, you drifted out to sea, slowly picking up speed with the turn of the throttle.
“Do you want me to let go?” He asked, leaning in so you could hear him over the roar of the motor.
Somehow, you thought two completely conflicting thoughts at the exact same time:
Yes, now.
and
No, never.
You settled on, “whatever.”
Rafe started to let go, but the jet ski hit the wake of a nearby boat, and you both nearly flew off the seat. His grip tightened protectively, practically pinning your body down. With his strong hands on you so firmly, it felt like you could hit a tidal wave and he’d still have you in his grasp. You needed more of whatever that was.
Your laughter filled the salty air as you purposefully drove you and Rafe over the choppiest patches of the water, hair whipping behind you into his face, and he didn’t even care. He watched you in the side view mirror on the front of the jet ski, memorizing every inch of your smile like he’d never see it again.
“Jesus, are you trying to kill us?” He teased, yelling over the woosh of the wind.
“It’d be a fun way to go!” You yelled back, meeting his eyes in the mirror.
Rafe’s hands still on your waist, you felt him lean in slightly. Even with two lifejackets between you, the proximity of your bodies was electrifying. You could feel his strong thighs on either side of your hips, closing you in everytime you hit a bump, securing you in place. You wondered if he was doing it on purpose or if it was just his instinct, you didn’t know which was hotter.
The water rushed behind you, a foamy wake marking your path as you continued driving as fast as you could. The others must’ve gone a different way out of the marina, because they were nowhere in sight. The sky was darkening slightly, the shift in weather causing most boats to drive the opposite way, back to the docks. But you just kept going, and Rafe didn’t tell you to turn around, both drunk on the adrenaline of the speed and the feeling of each other’s skin.
After a particularly jostling bump, the engine sputtered slightly.
“Fuck, what was that?” You puzzled, turning the throttle harder but gaining no speed.
“Here, you gotta twist it like this,” Rafe’s arms wrapped around you, his hands covering yours as he guided you to turn the throttle in the exact way you just were.
“That’s exactly what I was doing,” you bickered. “It’s not working.”
“Maybe I should drive?”
“It’s not my driving, something’s wrong with the jet ski,” you argued, swatting his hands away. 
“Can you just let me try?” He argued back.
“No, you’re making it worse!” 
The engine continued to sputter until it cut completely, causing both your bodies to lunge forward as it came to an abrupt halt.
“Rafe what did you do?” You accused him.
“What did I do? You wouldn’t even let me touch it!” He snapped.
You turned the key in the ignition over and over. The jet ski growled a few times but never started back up. Eventually, you gave up with a frustrated huff.
“I think we’re out of gas,” you conceded.
“Well, did you ask the guy if it was filled before you left?” Rafe questioned.
“Oh, so now this is my fault?” You craned your neck to see him, anger in your eyes.
“No, that’s not-”
“I’m so tired of this, Rafe.”
“We’ve only been out here for like a minute.”
“No, not this,” you motioned toward the water, “this,” you motioned between you and him.
“Oh. Me?” He tried and failed to hide his hurt feelings.
“Not you, just, all this back and forth. One second we’re having a good time and the next you’re pulling away or snapping at me. I have fucking whiplash.”
“Are you sure it’s not just from the jet ski?” He attempted a joke, it only half worked.
“How are we gonna get back?” You redirected the conversation before he could see you were smirking.
“A boat will come by,” he said confidently. “We’ll be fine.”
No boats came by in the following minute, or the following five. You sat in tense silence, your previous words still hanging between you. Your head hurt from the wind and trying to figure this man out.
“I’m sorry,” he mumbled, almost inaudible. “I know I’m…difficult.”
You turned your neck, not quite far enough to see him, but enough to let him know you were listening, that he should go on.
“I don’t know how to act around you,” he admitted. “One second I feel like I’ve fucked it up so bad that there’s not even a point in trying to fix it and the next…”
This time, you do turn, twisting your torso so you could look him intently in the eyes, imploring him to say something right for once, begging him not to let you fall off this cliff alone again.
“…you look at me like that,” he almost whispered. “And then I think fuck it, I’d try forever if you let me.”
For the first time ever, he was with you on the way down, finally jumping together.
“Can I?” He asked, voice low.
“Can you what?” you blinked at him slowly, the moment so surreal you worried it wasn’t happening, that you’d wake up in Carter’s bed, all of this day just one long fever dream.
“Fix things…with you?”
“I don’t know.”
It was the most honest answer you could give him.
“Can I try?” His voice broke slightly when he said it, and you could feel the vulnerability leaking through the cracks.
“Yeah,” you gave in.
“I miss you,” he breathed, and your heart felt heavy with longing and resentment at the same time.
“I don’t think you ever really knew me, Rafe,” you said, turning to face forward again, sad eyes scanning the horizon. “You never paid close enough attention.”
He thought over your words, and you could feel that there was something brewing in his mind, a decision he was making. When he finally spoke again, it wasn’t the words you expected.
“What’s your favorite color?”
You couldn’t help the grin that spread across your face as you said, “huh?”
“Just tell me,” he smiled back, even though you weren’t looking, you could hear it in his voice.
You answered him, and he followed that question up with another, and another, and they kept rolling off his tongue and you kept answering, until the strangeness of it faded and the two of you were just talking.
For over an hour, you drifted, leaning forward on the handlebars with your back to him as Rafe asked you questions and listened intently to your long, detailed answers. You were hesitant, just at first. No one had ever let you talk this long without interrupting you. No one had ever wanted so badly to hear what you had to say. He nodded along to everything, responding with thoughtful mhms and carefully worded follow up questions.
After a while, you forgot about the surrealness of it all, where you were, who you were with. It was just you and your old friend, sharing your lives with each other. 
I could do this for a long time, you thought, like maybe forever.
Everytime you thought he must be bored by now, he just kept asking, hanging on every word like he was collecting them for some secret project.
“What do you want to do after you graduate?” and “Who’s your closest friend?” and “Are you still into that one band?” and eventually, when he was running low on ideas, “what’s the last movie you saw?”
You laughed. 
“What?” He asked with a timidness that squeezed your heart.
“The last movie I saw was the last movie you saw,” you reminded him.
“Oh, right,” he chuckled, but there was an edge to it.
“It’s a good movie, though,” you leaned back toward him a little, trying to pull him from whatever thoughts were causing his spirit to fall. “My favorite.”
He nodded, “Tom did a nice job putting together that little shindig.”
“I guess so,” you said, not sure how to proceed.
“You know he plays football for U of F?” He said. “Or did I guess, before he graduated.”
“No, I didn’t.”
“Yeah, he was All American,” he nodded. You’d give all the money you had for one glimpse of what was going on in his head.
“He’s an impressive guy,” he admitted. “I can see why you’d end up in his room.”
“Rafe, oh my god,” you huffed, standing suddenly. Your body rose above him, his eyes tracking every movement. You swung your leg over the seat, flipping around so you were facing him, sitting back down so you could look him in the eyes when you said, “I didn’t sleep in Tom’s room.”
“Oh.”
It was all he could muster up, his throat going dry from both the embarrassment he felt for being wrong and the sudden proximity of your bodies. He willed himself not to let his eyes travel down to the way your lifejacket was pushing your chest together, or the soft skin of your bare thighs, now spread open in front of him as you straddled the seat. He kept his eyes on yours, the most respectful option, though it didn’t help his speechlessness. The uninterrupted contact with your beautiful irises nearly put him over the edge. He almost hoped no boats would come by after all so he could look into your eyes for hours.
“Is that why you got up and left last night?” You questioned, not missing the way his eyes were trained intensely on yours.
“The floor was uncomfortable,” he mumbled.
“The floor,” you nodded, “the floor was uncomfortable. Got it.”
“You're mad at me again,” he surmised.
“When was I ever not mad at you?” 
“I dunno,” he shrugged sarcastically, “somewhere between the movie and your panties hitting the floor.”
You wanted to slap him. And kiss him. He could tell, teasing you with a sideways smirk. You tried to channel the newfound confidence you’d had last night, addicted to the taste of power.
You leaned forward, hands on the leather seat between you, looking up at him with hooded eyes.
“Did you like that?” 
“You know I did.” 
He responded so fast and his voice was so low you couldn’t tell if he was pissed off or turned on. Either way, he wasn’t fucking around anymore.
“Then why didn’t you stay?” 
It felt like that one question held so many questions, and based on the look on his face, you knew he could hear it too. You weren’t just asking about last night, you weren’t just asking why he went to sleep on the couch. You were asking about years of him coming up short, why he’d failed you so many times, why he never, ever seemed to pick you.
“I didn’t know you wanted me to.”
As he said it, the wind kicked up, and the jet ski began to rock even harder as waves rose and fell beneath you. One particularly choppy wave had you tilting a little too far off the seat, and Rafe’s hands landed on your waist again. This time, there was nothing hesitant about it. When you didn’t push him away, his thumb brushed an experimental circle into your skin.
“Do you want me to let go?”
In lieu of answering, your hands came to rest over his. He assumed you were gonna pull them off of you, and for a moment you thought you might too, but then his words echoed in your mind: he didn’t know you wanted him to.
You could do this. You could lean into it and just let it happen. You were supposed to fight it, make him grovel more, make him pay you back for the years you’d waited. It’s what everyone expected. You were only a few hundred yards off shore, but the rest of the world felt lightyears away, and out here, there was nothing stopping you letting him touch you, kiss you, have you. You could just let it happen, and no one would have to know.
But before you could decide if you wanted to, a deep rumble of thunder broke out across the sky.
“Shit,” you jumped. 
“We gotta get out of here,” Rafe looked up at the darkening sky nervously.
“But how?” 
“How well can you swim?”
That’s how Rafe ended up in the water, gripping the back of the jet ski as the waves rocked it harshly, water splashing up and landing on your feet. You tightened your lifejacket, feeling apprehensive about the whole thing.
“I can just push us if you want to stay on,” Rafe offered.
“No, it’ll go faster if it’s both of us.”
You stepped to the edge, hesitating, wanting to rip the bandaid and just jump in but not wanting to jump too far off and get separated. Your indecision cost you, your foot slipped and you dropped into the water, your leg scraping against the edge of the jet ski as you fell. 
Blinded by pain, you reached for Rafe as your head slipped under the surface, but your hands came up empty.
(Chapter 6: part one)
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a/n: as always, sorry for any tag errors!!! I never leave ppl off on purpose so pls let me know! to be first to know when a new chapter drops follow @whytheylosttheirminds-works and turn on notifs 😘
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mrsbarnesblog · 5 months ago
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my girl
masterlist
requests are open
summary: even if you knew that you and Rafe were just hooking up, hearing his friend's comments about you, while you were preparing a venue for the event, hurt more than you expected it to
word count: 2k.
warnings: fwb (or smth like that) to lovers, mentions of sex but nothing explicit, Rafe's friends lol, swearing
a/n: soft Rafe is my weakness, I'm sorry. he's on my mind 24/7 and I literally don't know what to write
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You were running around the outdoor venue with boxes full of pastry, where in a few hours there was going to be an annual celebration with lots of rich people. For some reason, Ward Cameron, who was paying for everything here, decided that your father’s small bakery was good enough to feed all of the kooks, so from the afternoon on, you were organizing tables to make everything look perfect. 
The place itself looked truly magical—decorated with a lot of flower arrangements, lights and expensive furniture. It was located at Figure 8, so you obviously never had the opportunity to visit it before. It was Kook’s territory, and even with your family’s bakery, which was pretty popular on the island, you were not welcome here.
Just a few minutes ago, Ward himself came to the venue with Rafe and his son’s best friends in order to check how everything was going. 
As soon as your eyes met Rafe’s, you both stopped for a few seconds, too shocked to see each other in a public place. What happened between you and Kook's prince was something that you had never expected to get into, yet here you were. 
You didn’t know what got into you that one night, but out of nowhere, Rafe was talking to you, smiling, looking all sexy and without his usual cockiness, so you couldn’t resist him. 
It wasn’t that you even regretted your decision; it just became more weird every single time you met because he wasn’t bad. Rafe Cameron wasn’t an asshole, which everyone made him seem to be. He was affectionate and surprisingly soft, always checking on you while you two were together and never pressuring you to leave. You wholeheartedly had to admit that it became more than just sex after a few weeks, no matter how hard you tried to deny it. 
You were definitely not dating, mostly because he had never asked you to, but you two were always texting about random stuff, he would even pick you up to hang out at his secret spot on the beach, or just to simply sit in his truck with lots of food and talk. Part of you hated it, but Rafe made you feel so comfortable and safe around him so you were scared to push it and ask him what was happening between you. 
Rafe’s eyes stayed fixated on you as his father, Kelce and Topper stood near him, looking around the venue and chatting. But he could not care less about it because his entire attention was drawn to you and how adorable you looked in your pink tennis skirt and simple white polo with the bakery's logo on it. 
He may or may not be responsible for Ward’s choice of bakery to work with, because Rafe made sure to accidentally mention it a few times, knowing that it would be a good profit for your family. Yet, seeing you here slightly took him off guard, as the first thought that appeared in his head was to go up to you, flirt and make you blush, or just simply kiss you. But he couldn’t, right? At least not until he properly talked to you. 
“Damn, she’s hot, even for a pogue. No wonder you hit it a few times, bro. I'd do it too.” The moment words left Topper’s mouth, Rafe’s heart dropped into his stomach. Kelce snickered, fistbumping Topper, and Rafe cursed himself for running his mouth. He really considered drowning his friends in the nearest lake. 
“Shut your fucking mouth.” Rafe seethed through gritted teeth, elbowing his friend. 
“I would appreciate you both watching your language.” Ward sighed, wincing and rubbing a hand on his beard. He looked at Rafe, who completely ignored his questioning gaze while trying to figure out how to fix it. 
Even with you standing with your back facing them, Rafe saw that you heard it too. Your hand froze in the air, still holding a cupcake, and your shoulders sagged in disappointment and hurt.
Only a few seconds later, you came back to your senses. Your back straightened, you finished decorating the table and you put empty boxes in the trash can. You turned around, showing the fakest smile Rafe had ever seen on your face. Your nails digged in your palm to control yourself, and you stepped closer to the four of them. 
“Mr. Cameron, thank you for working with our bakery. It really means a lot for my family. I did everything and now the event manager should carry on. I, um, should go. I have a lot of stuff to do. Have a great night.” Your eyes were glossy, with tears clearly visible on your waterline. As you awkwardly and in a rush thanked Ward, you didn’t even look at Rafe or either of his friends, knowing damn well that it would break you. 
You didn’t even wait for Ward’s response before storming off, trying to get as far away from these people as possible. Your chest felt too heavy, and the lump in your throat was so hard that you could barely speak. But you didn’t even walk a few feet away before a familiar hand wrapped around your wrist and made you turn around. 
“What do you want from me?” You snapped at Rafe, trying to yank your hand out of his grip. “Don’t touch me, Rafe.”
“This is not what you think it is.” He said, searching for your eyes. His brows were knit together, and his eyes were big and round, almost in fear. 
“Oh no? Isn’t it what I am to you? Just a hit. Just another one on your long list. Why are you bothering to explain anything to me anyway?” You laughed, barely able to hold back your tears. As if it were not enough that you cried in front of Rafe, neither his friends nor his father seemed to mind their own business, obviously listening to your conversation. 
“No. You know that it was more for me, Y/N. I’m serious about you, okay? Topper just cannot filter his fucking mouth.” 
“Stop doing it, Rafe!” You broke, not bothering to hide anymore. “Stop playing with my feelings when you know damn well that you won’t have anything serious with me. I’m not rich, I’m not a kook and I’m not like the prefect girls you usually hang out with. I get it, okay?” You yanked your hand out of his hold, not missing the way Rafe tried to catch it back. Wiping away hot and angry tears with the back of your hand, you look him right in the eyes. “I just wish you didn't give me hope in the first place, because I feel so fucking stupid.” 
“You’re not stupid, Y/N. I don’t care about your money or your status, for that matter. I want you and I mean it. Just let me explain—”
"This is why you would not even speak to me in front of anyone, right? This is why we were always sneaking around. Because you want me, not because you’re too good to be around me.“ You confronted him, not even caring who could hear or see you. From the position where you were standing, you saw a bunch of young waitresses standing not so far away, pretending to work on the table but eyeing you and Rafe every second.
“I’m an asshole. I know it. I know that I didn’t put the label on us and that I fucked up, not doing the right thing.” He stepped closer to you, not breaking eye contact to show that he was sincere. "When Topper and Kelce saw me with you, I panicked and said the only thing that made sense: we were just hooking up. I didn’t want it to be that way, fuck…” Rafe screched the back of his neck in agitation.
“You should go back and stop embarrassing yourself talking with a pogue. I bet your friends found it entertaining. How much did you tell them, hm? Did you share every single detail of what we were doing?” Your voice broke at the end.
“I didn’t tell them anything!”
“Well, I don’t believe you, Rafe!” You sniffed, looking away to distract yourself from the look in Rafe’s eyes. His blue eyes were round, full of concern and it seemed like he was almost panicking. "I understand how guys like you talk about women, but I guess I was stupid enough to believe you would not do that to me. So yeah, you got what you wanted from me and now you can go back to—”
You were rumbling one moment, and the next, two hands pressed on your cheeks, tilting your head up, and Rafe's lips were on yours. You gasped, hands freezing in the air in shock, before slowly moving to Rafe’s shirt to tug on it. 
He didn’t rush; he just firmly yet gently held you against him while his tongue slipped into your mouth, savoiring every second. It’s been just two days since you last seen each other, but God, you missed kissing him. Even if you wanted to move away, you couldn’t. Rafe's palms were on your face, guiding you, while his kiss made your head feel empty and light. He smelled and tasted so good and you hated how quickly you got used to the feeling of his touch on your skin. 
“Everyone can see us.” You mumbled into his mouth. 
“I don’t fucking care, Y/N.” He furrowed, still feeling the wetness on your cheeks from crying. With his thumbs gently rubbing your soft skin, he gave you a few quick kisses before continuing. "I swear, all I said to them was that we just hooked up, because it is what it was at that moment. I wouldn’t have shared anything intimate about you, baby. Please believe me when I say this.” Rafe sighed, resting his forehead on yours. His nose bumped against your—something that he started doing when you were alone in the bed, laying face to face and just looking at each other. "I am sorry I made you feel like you were just sex for me, because you weren't. Spending time with you was the best fucking time of my day, and whatever that was between us, I don’t want it to end.”
“Me neither…” You whispered, feeling warmth rushing through your body when Rafe wrapped his hands around your waist and pulled you even closer into him. He placed a kiss on the top of your head and then you felt him turning around, seemingly studying people around you.
“Since everyone saw us today, do you think I can take you away with me right now?” 
“Take me away? But you have an event in a few hours, and I have to work.”
“No, now we have an event and we have to find you a dress. I’ll handle your work and find someone who can deliver your orders.” Your head snapped up, only to see a proud grin on Rafe's face.
“You’re joking, right?” You pulled away, laughing. “I don’t have such clothes nor do I have money to buy them, and I definitely wasn’t invited.” 
“That’s why I’m taking you to the store now. And since you are my girl now, you’ll be my plus one.” He just shrugged, probably unaware that he had just filled your stomach with freaking butterflies. 
“I’m your girl?” 
Rafe silently looked you in the eyes for a few seconds, and it seemed like he was trying to reassure himself about something. His eyes then shifted to your lips, as he dragged you back to his body, lowering himself to mumble against your mouth. “Yeah, you are my girl.”
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flwrkid14 · 22 days ago
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Tim Drake – From Vigilante to Infinite Realms Royalty
It was one of those things that Tim never imagined would happen, not in his wildest Gotham nights. But then again, dating Danny Fenton, aka Danny Phantom, the Ghost King, came with more than just the usual paranormal hijinks.
Tim was used to strange things, but being royalty? That was definitely new.
The revelation hit him one evening when Danny casually mentioned it, like he was talking about the weather.
“You know you’re technically royalty now, right?” Danny said, lounging upside down in the air like it was the most normal thing ever.
Tim raised an eyebrow. “Royalty? What are you talking about?”
Danny grinned, clearly enjoying himself. “Well, you’re dating me. And I’m the King of the Infinite Realms. So that makes you my consort… which, you know, technically makes you royalty too.”
Tim froze. “Wait—what? That’s not how this works. I didn’t sign up for—”
“Oh, but it is how it works. Welcome to ghost politics, Drake.”
And that’s when Tim realized his life just got infinitely more complicated.
Naturally, the bats found out. Because of course they did. And it spiraled into something Tim really didn’t want to deal with.
It started when he casually mentioned it during a meeting in the Batcave. He figured it wasn’t a big deal. After all, being ‘royalty’ in a ghost dimension didn’t really change anything, right?
Wrong.
Bruce didn’t even flinch. He just kept typing at the Batcomputer. “You’re dating the Ghost King, and now you’re royalty?”
“Technically, yes,” Tim said, trying not to sound too defensive.
Bruce glanced at him. “I see.”
That was all he said. But it was enough to make Tim feel like he’d just announced he was moving to the moon.
Jason, of course, immediately jumped on it. “Hold up. So you’re, like, ghost royalty now? Does that mean you get a crown or something?”
Tim shot him a glare. “No, I’m not getting a crown.”
“Oh, I dunno,” Jason grinned. “Sounds like royalty to me. Next thing you know, we’re gonna be bowing to Prince Drake of the Phantom Zone.”
“It’s not the Phantom Zone, Todd.”
Damian, predictably, was furious. “This is ridiculous. You, Drake? Royalty? You are not fit for any throne, especially one in the Infinite Realms. The entire concept is absurd.”
Tim sighed, rubbing his temples. “I’m not ruling anything, Damian. It’s just a title.”
“An unearned one,” Damian muttered under his breath.
Steph, on the other hand, thought it was the funniest thing she’d ever heard. “Wait, wait. So if you and Danny are together for real, does that mean we have to call you ‘Your Highness’? I need to know. Are there royal ghost duties? Do you have to make decrees?”
“No. Please stop,” Tim groaned.
But the worst part? The teasing didn’t stop. Every dinner, every mission, every time Tim walked into the room, someone had something to say.
“So, Tim,” Dick said one day with a grin. “Have you started planning ghostly state visits yet? I’m sure the Justice League would love to attend a royal banquet in your honor.”
“No state visits,” Tim said through gritted teeth. “I don’t even rule anything.”
“Sure you don’t, ‘Your Ghostliness,’” Jason added with a laugh.
The bats seemed to think it was the funniest thing in the world. Tim? Not so much. But he had to admit, ghost politics were no joke. He was already getting drawn into weird Infinite Realms power struggles, where ancient beings would bow to him and ghosts would whisper about “the King’s consort.”
At first, Tim tried to play it off. He didn’t need the title. He wasn’t about to walk around with a crown and robes, or start making royal proclamations. But when one of the ghost courtiers addressed him as “My Lord,” he couldn’t help but cringe.
Danny found the whole thing hilarious. “Don’t worry,” he’d say with a smirk. “You won’t have to do anything royal. It’s just… a perk.”
“Some perk,” Tim muttered.
Still, despite all the teasing and the bizarre ghostly politics, Tim knew one thing for sure: he wouldn’t trade it for anything. Dating Danny came with chaos, sure. But at the end of the day, Tim was okay with it. Even if it meant being ghost royalty.
Just… no crown. Ever.
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sutorus · 1 year ago
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BAD IDEA RIGHT? BEST FRIEND'S DAD!TOJI for KINKTOBER 2023!
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DESCRIPTION: you and megumi are old friends, but a recent development (called growing up) has made you aware of just how hot his dad, toji fushiguro, really is. you sit on your desire for years until one night, you get an idea. 
PAIRING: best friend’s dad!fushiguro toji x reader
WC: 5.1k whoops!
WARNINGS: 18+ MINORDS DNI. fem reader, afab reader, age gap! power dynamics, slight daddy kink, degradation, spit (like a lot it's a Thing here), oral (m! receiving), unprotected relations, slapping, gaping, size difference/size kink, creampie, toji is Nasty and a pretty bad dude lol 
A/N: this is nasty and very descriptive i’m so sorry i really sinned here. anyway enjoy!
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you and megumi have been friends since school. after all, it was inevitable that a friendship would form between the only two kids whose parents consistently forgot to pick them up after class. 
nods of acknowledgment quickly developed into trading pokémon cards, sharing samanco waffles, cheating off each other during tests. 
it was the most meaningful relationship you had in your life, the one other person who really got you and the situation you were in, and before you knew it, you two were being admitted to the same college, like you’d talked about all those years ago. 
in the meantime, megumi’s dad had… mellowed out. from what you knew. 
sure, he was still gone for weeks at a time, neglectful, irresponsible and womanizing, but one final falling out with their family seemed to have lifted a big weight off his shoulders, and he became more present in megumi’s life, less resentful. you knew he wasn’t a good guy, but you also knew he was trying, in his own way. 
besides that, you also couldn’t help noticing other things about the man. you first started paying attention when you were in high school, always hanging out at megumi’s place to play video games or study. 
toji would come home sometimes, smelling of smoke and sake, tonguing the scar on the side of his lip. plopping down on their shaggy sofa, legs spread wide, thick thighs straining the fabric of his pants. you would give megumi some excuse about getting something from the kitchen and just watch toji, lazily browsing channels with one hand inside his sweats. 
it wasn’t a big deal. but it never quite went away, your infatuation growing with your desperation the more the man hung around. you did everything you could to get his attention. 
you wore the frilliest, shortest skirts, left dirty dishes on the sink, showed up too late at night drunk and stumbling “looking for megumi”, acting out so you could try to get some reaction out of toji. but he never seemed to give you a second thought, annoyance being the closest thing to an emotion on his face every time your eyes met. 
but you were no quitter. you knew one day you would get what you deserved. maybe not today, but… eventually.
you approach the fushiguro household’s front door, fishing out the extra key megumi had given you from your backpack pocket. you two had a study session today but he’d texted you telling you he’d be late and to just let yourself in, so that’s what you do. 
with a sigh, you set down your laptop on their coffee table and sit down on the couch, looking up at the ceiling. before you can finish getting comfortable, a tall, broad figure is looming over your face and you almost jump out of your skin. 
“what the f—oh my god,” you laugh in embarrassment. “you scared me, fushiguro-san.”
he doesn’t react, his eyes boring into yours. “me? you’re the one breaking into my house.”
you roll your eyes, pulling your legs up below your body. “megumi gave me a key. we’re supposed to study today, do you know where—“
“he’s with that itadori kid. don’t think he’s coming back tonight,” toji moves to sit down on the loveseat, turning the tv on. the old, boxy thing crackles to life, a boat race playing on the screen. toji adjusts his body in attention. “so you can fuck off back home.”
“um,” you start, but nothing else comes out of your mouth. you let your eyes wander all over his lax form, and you can faintly make out his abs below the raggedy shirt he’s wearing. it makes your stomach turn. 
without taking his eyes off the screen, he addresses you again. “you know where the door is.”
an idea starts to form in your head. a really, really bad, tempting idea.
you discreetly take off your sweatshirt, leaving you in just your undershirt, no bra. you hope toji can scent the whiff of perfume you exude when you move, scooting closer to the edge of the sofa. 
“nah, i think i’ll just study here. my parents are home today and they’re too… y’know.”
“not my fuckin’ problem,” he picks at his teeth, spreading his legs wider. your desperation is growing with each second he spends not looking at you. 
you lift up your bag, something clinking inside. it's a bold move, but it's now or never.
“i brought booze. we could just share some and then i’ll go.”
that at least gets a reaction. the man snorts, finally glancing over at you from the corner of his eyes. you instinctively push your chest out, feeling eager. 
“is that what you do with my son under my roof? get shitfaced in the house that i pay for?”
“well i paid for the vodka so i don’t see how that’s any of your business,” you make a point to pull out the bottle from your bag, swinging it around. 
toji’s expression hardens, his jaw clenching. you know he doesn’t like to be challenged, absolutely hates smart mouths. you should be in for a treat. 
“who the hell do you think you’re talking to, kid?” he stands up and snatches the bottle from you, turning it around in his — big, veiny, deliciously calloused — hand and laughing. “vanilla flavored? fuck, you really are a kid.” he says it like the realization excites him. 
you can feel your face flush.
“are you gonna turn down free alcohol, toji?” it’s risky, dropping the honorific. you know he doesn’t like it, can see it in his face, but he doesn’t say anything. 
instead, he unscrews the top with ease and takes a swig, grimacing at the taste. you watch as his throat works, adam’s apple bobbing.
his arms are huge, you can’t imagine he was ever shaped like megumi is nowadays, slender and frail. toji is tall and broad and big, with a permanent 5 o’clock shadow on his defined features. 
he grabs two whiskey glasses and sets them down on the coffee table — no coasters —, pouring some vodka in both of them. it was most definitely not your idea to do straight shots tonight with megumi, but you will not go through the humiliation of asking for a soda to mix it with. 
you’re desperate to have toji view you as the adult you are, no longer megumi’s awkward middle school best friend. you know you’ve grown up well; all you need is for toji to see it too. 
you drink in silence for a bit, the only noises coming from toji being his disappointed grunts as the boats he bet on fall behind. you type away at your laptop, not really being able to focus with the heat rising within you. 
he refills both your cups a couple more times, but makes no effort to talk.
you slowly but surely start to get antsy, your determination wavering and giving way to a funny feeling one can only experience by drinking with their best friend’s dad who they’ve wanted to fuck for like, ever. 
so you bite the bullet and with the liquid courage flowing in your veins, you strike up conversation. 
“y’know, toji, i’ve always wanted to ask,” his head lolls on his shoulder to look at you lazily and disinterested. “what happened to megumi’s mom? he doesn’t talk about it.”
“yeah, well. me either,” toji replies. you take a deep breath. 
“you’re gone a lot. megumi is alone a lot.”
toji scoffs.
“thought that was what you were here for, hmm? megumi’s done well for himself,” he finally, probably for the first time in your life, gives you a proper look over, his eyes traveling all over your frame, tucked into the armrest of the couch. “scored himself a nice little bitch.”
you let out a strangled noise. you’re fighting laughter when you exclaim, “i’m sorry?! you think megumi and i have a—like, a thing?”
toji just shrugs, stretching one leg out in front of him. “i figured. why else would you loiter around my house so much?”
oh, if he only knew. 
“no, no. it’s never been like that. megumi’s not really my type.” toji hums inquisitively, and you take that as a sign to continue. “i’m into more… mature guys.”
toji eyes you knowingly, but seemingly amused. 
“that right?” you nod. “fuckin’ kid like you even know what to do with a man?”
you raise an eyebrow. you’re a sophomore in college, well into your twenties. he can’t be serious. “surely you know i’m not a kid anymore. surely you d—“
“surely my ass,” he exclaims and oh, he’s a little terrifying like this. toji downs however much was left in his cup and turns to you, pointing with the hand holding his glass. “you’re a full of shit, foul mouthed, rude brat. get the fuck out of my house, you’re pissing me off.”
you’re used to toji’s outbursts, not because you know him well but because every time you see him, seldom as it is, he always loses his temper, sooner or later. 
“i think,” you take another sip, feeling loose. “your old ass wouldn’t be able to handle sex. like, actual sex, not those rich hags you who just lay there for you and give you money in the end. if you had to put in any real work i bet your heart would give out you slimey pi—“
you can’t finish your sentence because you can’t breathe, suddenly. your eyes widen, chest spasming as your oxygen gets cut off mid-sentence. toji has one of his huge palms covering your nose and mouth.
you look up at him with watery eyes but he’s not looking back, he’s chugging vodka straight from the bottle again.
he puffs his cheeks and moves his hand to cup your jaw, smirking around a mouthful of alcohol. 
you catch your breath quickly, the hand that was clawing at his falling limply on your lap. toji holds your face, his grip unforgiving as he leans over you. his form is so, so much bigger than yours, towering over you completely, and all you can do is look up at him with a blank expression. 
his thumb pries your mouth open with ease, the digit hooking behind your bottom teeth as toji’s face gets closer and closer. on instinct, you close your eyes. 
soon, hot, stinging liquid is pouring steadily into your mouth. toji swishes the rest of the vodka between his cheeks — on purpose, you’re sure — before spitting it directly on your tongue.
it’s disgusting, everything about it makes your stomach churn, but it also makes you squeeze your legs together, chest rising and falling rapidly as you swallow without having to be told to. 
“ya talk too fuckin’ much, brat,” he grumbles. ironically, you’re at a loss for words. “someone needs put you in your place already.”
“you,” your voice cracks and nearly fails you, but you’re determined. it surprises him, that you’d have something to say. that you’re still game. you can see it in his face, in the way his hands come off of you. “i want you to.”
toji’s expression is hard and unchanging. his fingers go back to your face, two of them slipping inside your lax lips.
your breath stutters as you inhale, instinctively sucking the digits and working your tongue around them.
toji grabs his cock through his pants pointedly.
“fuckin’ slut… that what you want?” you nod. he takes a step forward, knees hitting the couch. “is that why you walk around my house looking like a fucking whore?”
a whine dies in your throat at the sweet, sweet recognition.
he noticed.
he noticed and it bothered him and you really couldn’t bring yourself to care that he was your best friend’s father right now because he was tenting his sweatpants and your mouth was watering at the sight. 
“please…” you paw at his waistband, pulling on the drawstrings. toji laughs at your desperation, voice growing gruff. 
he buries a hand in your hair, fingers closing around your locks tightly and making your eyes sting with tears. slowly, he pushes your face into his crotch, so close that you can feel it pulsing, can feel every ridge, can feel that he’s not wearing any underwear.
god, you can smell him, and it makes your head spin, your mouth huffing out hot breaths and wetting the front of his pants. 
you hook your fingers in the back of his sweats and pull until they’re down tight around his thighs. you have to maneuver the fabric over the head of his erection, earning a hiss from the man towering over you.
his dick springs up, slapping you in the face and leaving a smear of pre across the bridge of your nose. you think toji snorts at that but you can’t be sure. you’re too mesmerized.
he’s so, so big, the skin darker and flushed, tight, heavy balls and the head, angry red, peeking out from the foreskin.
your throat goes dry at the thought of it inside of you, inside any of your holes, because you know it’ll destroy you forever. and you want it. 
toji doesn’t have the appeal that most men his age do to most girls your age. he doesn’t make you feel safe, he doesn’t offer financial support, he doesn’t care about your well-being, he doesn’t have his shit together. and to make matters worse to you, he’s your best friend’s dad, who your best friend doesn’t even like that much, whose presence has been totally indifferent to megumi for most of his life. 
it makes you burn in shame to know you’re about to have a man 25 years your senior in your mouth.
you readjust your position on the couch so that you’re sitting on your knees, angling your face with his cock. it’s curved, pointing up, and you wonder how much of it he’s gonna wanna stuff down your throat. judging by the pure evil glinting in his eyes, it’s gonna be as much as possible. 
you take a deep breath, steadying a hand around his length. it’s concerning that you can just barely close your fingers around him, but you put that thought aside to focus on pulling the skin down gently so you can wrap your lips around the tip. 
toji sighs in relief, his grip in your hair tightening.
you begin to work your head up and down, licking the underside of his cock to gather up saliva. 
“thaaat’s it, what a good little bitch. got a sweet little mouth on ya,” he whispers, hips thrusting slightly to work his cock further into your mouth. “yer gonna take all of it? or are ya all talk?”
you whine, gripping the base and sliding further down his length. he’s already hitting the back of your throat, making your eyes water and your stomach seize. you pick up the pace, twisting your wrist rhythmically as you suck him. 
“don’t swallow,” he threatens, forcing his cock deeper into you, the head sliding into the opening of your throat. “lemme see how messy this slutty face can get.”
you choke audibly, eyes smarting with tears, makeup smudging. you look up at him with furrowed brows in a silent plea of mercy. 
toji’s having none of it.
he puts one foot down on the sofa, next to your legs, giving himself the leverage to start fully fucking your face now. he wraps both hands around your throat and thrusts his hips violently into your mouth, his thumbs pressing down to feel his length in your throat. 
“ahh, fuck,” he throws his head back, reveling in your desperate gurgles. you feel like a fucking ragdoll, like a fleshlight, unable to control the noises you make or how much dick you take. “takin’ me so well. who taught you to squeeze your throat like that, huh? so fuckin’ slutty.” 
you sob around his cock, nose buried in his pubes. he’s impossibly hard, impossibly wet as thick strings of spit and pre hang from your lips, dripping down to his balls, falling to the floor.
toji keeps fucking your throat relentlessly, granting you mere seconds between thrusts to inhale a desperate breath that immediately starts to burn in your lungs. 
he’s a fucking sight though, above you. chin tucked into his chest, veins bulging and biceps flexed, nostrils flared as he watches you devour him. 
he pulls out suddenly, leaving you choking for air. tears stream down your face, spit bubbling out of your nostril. you look all wrong, like you’d been put back together by someone after being utterly demolished.
“open your mouth,” toji orders. you obey and he grabs his cock, slapping the head against your tongue a few times. he slides his length in and out for a bit before he starts jerking himself off. “suck my balls.” 
you take that moment to swallow down the saliva that had pooled between your teeth, tucking away the wet strands of hair that frame your face.
toji’s lifting his cock towards his belly, fisting the head and flicking his wrist. he looks at you expectantly, and you understand it’s time to prove yourself once again. 
you place a gente thumb right below his shaft, where his sack hangs. your tongue dips in between his balls, shyly at first, just slightly tracing the shape of them before you pop one into your mouth. 
toji groans, the hand on his cock gaining speed. you squeeze your thighs together; you’re so wet that it makes you uncomfortable. you lean forward on your knees, steadying yourself with your palms planted firmly on his thighs. 
you’re sucking his balls earnestly now , one then the other, then both at the same time, angling your head up and working your tongue up and down the wrinkled skin.
toji’s loving it, maybe more than the blowjob, and it makes you feel like a toy all over again, in an even more humiliating way because now you’re not even allowed to touch his cock, he’s just getting to use your mouth anywhere he wants. 
it’s so fucking hot that it makes you dizzy. you hollow your cheeks, giving his nutsack a good suck before gingerly lifting his balls. you sneak a glance up at toji, hoping to catch him by surprise when your tongue dips even lower, approaching some pretty controversial territory. 
it works. his breath catches in his throat and his knee kicks out instinctively.
he grabs your hair immediately, pulling you away from him. 
“fuck,” you look up at him smirking, lips smeared with saliva and snort. but you don’t even care how debauched you look right now, as long as you can keep the upper hand. “you’re a nasty little bitch, aren’t ya?”
he leans down to kiss you deeply, messily, inhaling loudly through his nose. toji finishes stepping out of his sweatpants and pulls his shirt over his head, revealing what you’d been imagining for so many years. 
you run your hands over his chest, his abs, down his hips, his v-line. he’s so fucking hot, got bulging muscles you didn’t even know existed in the human body, and scars you can’t even fathom the origin of. 
he stares at you, looking bored. “get up.”
you do, legs shaking and prickling with pins and needles. now you can fully feel the scope of your arousal, how your panties stick to your core uncomfortably, how the wet tops of your thighs rub together. 
toji sits down on the sofa and you waste no time getting on his lap, clawing at his chest and leaning in for another kiss. he’s unforgiving even like this, so much bigger than you, his hand on the back of your neck and his mouth on yours. 
“arms up,” and when you comply, he’s pulling your tank top off. “good girl.”
you shiver, instinctively wrapping an arm around yourself. toji tsks at that, easily taking both your wrists in one hand and pinning them behind your back. he grabs your tit with the other, popping as much of it as he can in his mouth. 
you groan, fighting against his grip to get your hands on his hair, his shoulders, anywhere. toji relentlessly sucks on your nipple, nibbling and circling it with his tongue.
when he pulls off, he lands a swift slap across your boob, ripping a groan from you. 
“such a good fuckin’ slut, look at that body.”
he slaps your ass, this time, tugging your shorts over your butt. you help him get it off of you and then, finally, you’re straddling toji’s cock, no layers in between you two, just your dripping core on him. 
you think, belatedly, condom, but then toji is pulling you in for another kiss and for all you know megumi could come home any minute and you wouldn’t want to waste time like that. or so you tell yourself. 
his hands guide your hips to grind over him, soft mewls coming out of you and being buried into the crook of his neck. 
“pretty little girl, gonna ride me? hmm? gonna ride this old man’s cock?” you whine, nodding.
you press your front against his so you can lift your ass up and guide the tip into your entrance. you don’t expect to be able to take it all, but at least like this you can control the pace and how much of it is going into you, the only thing keeping you from panicking at the sheer size of him. 
the head of toji’s cock doesn’t slip inside so much as it pops inside, the ridge locking just past your opening.
it’s too big, and even though you’re soaking wet, it’s still a stretch. you both groan in unison and you realize, this is it. this is your fantasy, you’re fucking toji fushiguro, megumi’s dad, your best friend’s dad. 
your legs tremble as you hold yourself up, too soon to sink down more on his cock. toji’s playing with your nipples but you have a sneaking suspicion his patience isn’t going to last much longer. 
you give it a valiant effort to take more in and it feels like being ripped in two. you clench your jaw, a bead of sweat rolling down your temple. 
“fuuuuck, so fuckin’ tight,” toji spreads your ass cheeks with both hands, rubbing the thin skin where you two are connected. he thrusts up, feeding your poor pussy more of his cock, and you let out a scream. “take it, c’mon.”
“unghh—can’t, toji, hang on—“
“‘course ya can,” he fucks up into you again and you sob, nails raking down his chest. he hisses and slaps your ass in punishment. you realize you might really cry.
“i can’t, it’s too big, too much—“
“shhh,” in an uncharacteristic display of affection, toji kisses the furrow between your brows, snaking a thumb between you two to rub your clit. 
you throw your head back, body torn between seeking more pleasure and running from the pain. you can hear how wet you are as toji fucks in and out of you, your plush walls hugging him so well, weeping around him. 
he speeds up and you bury your face in his chest, moaning wantonly into his skin. toji lets out staccato grunts, working his cock further into you with each thrust. 
“any scrubs your age givin’ it to you like this?” he breathes out, grabbing your ass hard and moving it up and down his length for you. you whine, drooling on him. “yeah, that’s right. fuck, take it, that’s a good girl.”
“ahh, toji—“
“that’s not my name, whore,” he fists your hair and drags your head back until your eyes meet. “try again.”
“fushiguro-san—“ that earns you a hard slap on your ass. you yelp — wrong answer. 
“toji-sama—“ another slap, and this time he grips the reddening flesh viciously. you whine, squirming in his grip. 
“little braindead cumslut,” he wipes a tear with his thumb. “who’s fucking this tight pussy right now? huh? tell me who's ruining this slutty cunt.”
“d—daddy?” 
toji smiles, humming, his grip on you softening as he leans in for a kiss. “that’s right, sweetheart. show daddy how much you want it.”
it’s amusing to toji, you know it. he just wants to humiliate you because he’s aware of how badly you’ve wanted this. but it does something to you, it’s serious to you, it’s so fucking depraved and sexy to you. 
he lifts you up with ease and lays you back down on the couch. you feel so empty suddenly that it makes you want to cry, like toji has already carved a home inside of you for his cock that no one else will ever be able to fill. 
he wastes no time getting on top of you, hooking a hand under your leg and lifting it up onto his shoulder. your eyes widen immediately, a protest dying in your tongue. this position… his cock… it’s, god, it’s gonna be—
toji plunges in in one violent, perfunctory thrust. you let out a scream, your heel kicking toji square in the back as your body rises up from the couch. he’s all the way inside now. 
you can feel him bruising your cervix, his balls, wet with a mixture of the two of you, slapping against your ass, his hip bones drilling into you. 
“you’re so deep,” you look at him with panic in your eyes, chest gone cold at the overwhelming pleasure. “you’re so deep.”
toji laughs, pulling out to spit on his cock. he grabs your ankle and sets it on his shoulder. “yeah, baby, daddy’s all the way inside now. feels good, doesn’t it?” 
“fuck. oh fuck,” you let out shaky breaths, allowing toji to lay more of his weight on top of you. your knee is by your head now and somehow in this position his cock seems to hit even deeper, to curve up exactly in the right spots that have you struggling to breathe. “you’re gonna break me.” 
“takin’ me so well. just a natural slut aren’t ya,” he’s fucking you so fast now, wet, slapping sounds resounding across the whole house. 
there’s a thick creamy ring at the base of his cock, frothy and bubbly with how much you’ve been gushing for him. toji presses a thumb against your clit and rubs tight little circles, making you squeeze against him like a vice. 
he grunts, speeding up his movements.
“so sensitive, this cute little pussy. you a virgin?” he slaps it a few times, your wetness sticking to his fingers with every pat. “gonna cum soon, whore?”
you whine, nodding. you wrap both arms around toji’s neck and pull him closer, open mouth awaiting expectantly.
toji grins, spitting onto your tongue before leaning in to suck it. 
“toj—daddy,” you moan against his mouth, “daddy, i’m close.”
you don’t recognize your own voice. it’s slutty, desperate, pitchy, juvenile. it's too far gone.
toji works your clit over and over again, fucking you harder than you’ve ever been fucked. he splays a hand over your stomach, kneading the place where his cock is nestled inside of you and hitting a spot that makes you lose control of your body and words. 
“ah, ah, ah, oh god toji fuck daddy make me cum, please please can i cum—“
“oh, fuck,” his thrusts start to become erratic and you know he’s close too. you clench around him, one leg wrapping around his hips to make sure he stays inside until you're done. “cum on daddy’s cock, come on. make a mess, little girl.”
you throw your head back, burying it into the pillows as your entire body thrashes with your orgasm. you clamp around him so hard that you can't even tell where he ends and you begin. 
toji takes no mercy on you, his messy cock plunging in and out of you fast. 
“gonna fill up this pretty pussy, yeah?” you shake your head desperately, one hand punching his chest. he can’t finish inside of you, right? but why do you want it so bad? “no no no, don’t fuss now baby. you want daddy’s cum inside you, don’t you? wanna give megumi a baby brother? fuck yeah i know you do fuckin' take it whore fuuuuck, fuck i'm coming—”
he thrusts once, twice, three more times, knocking all air out of your lungs and the most ridiculous moans out of your mouth before he’s spilling into you, locking your legs like a fucking pretzel and biting down your neck. 
you can feel it pulsing, spurting inside of you. you can feel both your heartbeats in your abused cunt, both of your juices combined and oozing out of you. 
once you catch your breath, toji pulls out of you languidly, with a yawn. you two made a fucking mess, a sticky puddle on the couch right below your ass. 
toji eyes it disinterestedly, much like how he’s eyeing you right now. your sweaty, messy, fucked out self, nearly melting on the fushiguro household’s sofa. 
“ah. are ya on the pill or what?” he asks, like he just now remembered. after a few seconds you nod, a little incredulous. “heh. good.”
you slowly sit up, reaching for your sweatshirt to at least cover yourself up. you sneak a hand down to your cunt, fingers sliding through the mess there to dip inside you. 
fuck, you’re gaping. toji well and truly ruined your pussy. it makes you panic a little bit, but it also makes pride swell within your chest, knowing you took it, all of it. 
toji finally addresses you. 
“i’m gonna go take a shower,” he looks behind his shoulder, sighing. he points at you. “we left the fuckin’ tv on. if this shit racks up my bills you’re gonna have to pay me back.”
you guffaw. “me? pay you how?”
he smirks. 
“got one more hole i haven’t wrecked yet, dont’cha?” he flicks your forehead. you just sit there, incredulous, trembling legs, halfway to horny again. from the bathroom, toji calls out, “let yourself out. oh, and leave the vodka.”
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A/N: lmfao! i got nothin to say in my defense. reblogs r very much appreciated
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onlyhyunjin · 2 months ago
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𝐇𝐄𝐄𝐒𝐄𝐔𝐍𝐆 𝐅𝐈𝐂 𝐑𝐄𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐃𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒!
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(♡) - my personal favorites (🔞) - CONTAINS NSFW CONTENT
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NEW BEGINNINGS - @ikeuverse (flirting with your brother's brother-in-law wasn't in your plans after returning from studying abroad. it wasn't something you were going to stop either since heeseung was the epitome of beauty. but when there's another woman's name in the story. what happens? you don't want to be caught between a betrayal… or so you thought.) (♡)
MARRY ME - @ikeuverse (ever since you met lee heeseung, he told you that the two of you were going to get married. all the time, at every opportunity, he reinforced it until one day, drunk, you accepted. was he dreaming or did it really happen? it wouldn't be so bad to fall for his jokes for once.)
TIDES OF REGRET - @pprodsuga (in the year since heeseung first rejected your love confession, you've tried everything to get over him. a trip to europe makes you realize you miss your former best friend more than anything, and it makes heeseung realize he's got it all wrong.) (♡)(🔞)
HOW I MET YOUR MOTHER - @i2sunric (your daughter asks heeseung to tell the greatest love story of all and he takes the chance to narrate how he met you, the love of his life.) (♡)
JUNE BLOSSOMS - @soobnny (synopsis. as the month of may ends, you wonder what june holds for you and heeseung (especially with no more need to fake date.)
LATE SUMMER LOVIN' - @4am-enha (you desperately want to spend your last summer here in town with your friends, only to find out almost all of them are away on vacation. that is, all of them but heeseung. the one friend you’d never really been that close with.)
BITE ME - @drunkhazed (“I’m kind of confused still.” You admit, anxiously shuffling to sit without making eye-contact. Heeseung chuckles plopping down by your side, arm slinging back over your shoulder to keep you pressed against him.)(🔞)
COFFEE & CREAM - @ham-st4r (one chilly night after a long work shift, you’re unfortunately forced to walk home. Cause you left your bag at work, half way through your journey you stumble across a homeless man who you naturally offer money to, and he though he refuses. You give it to him anyway, and down the road, you’ll find that those two dollars changed not only his life but yours as well.) (🔞)
IT'S CUPID, STUPID - @mygnolia (To hell with Lee Heeseung, you couldn't find someone you hated more than the boy who's by your side no matter what. You figured that maybe the summer before university would be the best way to finally let go of him, and to leave the hate you have in your childhood- but no. What do you mean you have to spend ALL summer with him?)
FUCK BUDDIES - @dimepdf (y/n and heeseung and fwb after heeseung win in his football match y/n gives him the best reward)
TEETH - @gyuuberryy (you were not thrilled about the move in of your new neighbour. mostly because he was so strange and seemed to be hiding something dark. and partly because you couldn’t stop yourself from getting closer to him because of your unwanted attraction. you were determined to expose his dark secret and get rid of him once and for all. but, it was proving to be a difficult task because he was just so irresistible..and needy.)
PLAYER RANK: PLATINUM - @simpjaes (You’re not sure what’s worse, your sister’s boyfriend or your sister’s boyfriend’s friends. What you thought would be a great deal in living with her throughout college turns into a major game of cat and mouse, where you’re unsure if your moral compass is pointing in the right direction solely because you suspect someone is wearing a giant sex magnet to throw it off.) (🔞)
RUDE - @4wkjun (heeseung has never loved anyone as much as he loves y/n. y/n’s father has never hated someone as much as he hates heeseung. but it doesn’t matter, heeseung’s gonna marry y/n anyway.)
I OFFER YOU MY EVERYTHING - @heegyukeluv (You never cared about sex, until you did. You grew too afraid of it, scared of disappointing the other person or showing your inexperience. But then you met Heeseung, the hot basketball captain that stole your heart and became your biggest fantasy. ) (🔞)
VERBOTEN - @heesbaby (a bad stroke of luck saw lee heeseung, your dads coworker, moving into your small apartment until he found his feet again. emotionally unavailable and a workaholic, you were going to try your absolute hardest to make him loosen up. even if it meant breaking a few of the house rules he'd set out.) (🔞) (♡)
10 DAYS TO FALL IN LOVE - @luvyeni (you and heeseung used to be bestfriends as children — he even told you he'd marry you one day. but then you went to highschool and things changed , he dyed his hair and started hanging out with a new group group of friends. through all that his love never changed for you — has yours changed for him?)
RENT A BOYFRIEND - @jayujus (in which jeon y/n is desperate to find a boyfriend ASAP because she needs a date for her family's mixer. her best friend, ningning, introduces her to a website perfect for this situation!)
CHERRY CHAPSTICK - @angelwonie (ever since you met lee heeseung, he told you that the two of you were going to get married. all the time, at every opportunity, he reinforced it until one day, drunk, you accepted. was he dreaming or did it really happen? it wouldn't be so bad to fall for his jokes for once.)
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evilgwrl · 3 months ago
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Neighbour!Simon Riley x Reader
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Girl Next Door (Two)
CW: Mutual masturbation again, Simon has incredibly perverted thoughts about you, a stranger jumps into your backyard!!! :)
Previous Chapter, Next Chapter
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The Summer air was sticky, spits of sweat clinging to the back of your neck as intricates of hair moulded to your skin. You felt damp, your clothes acting like an uncomfortable Band-Aid that strained against your flesh causing an itching sensation that wouldn’t subside no matter how hard you rubbed or scratched.
It was upsetting, you dearly loved your garden. You took great pride in how pretty it was, the adornment of tulips and dahlias, entwined between rows of carnations and peonies. There was a stark difference between your house and your neighbour, even between the differing shades of grass, his a deeper juniper and yours a dewy pine.
Steady hands gripped the blue watering can, droplets beading at the top before feeding the parched plants. Gloved hands patted down the wet dirt, your eyes squinting under the boiling sun as you hurried under some shade. Thirsty lips found the straw, the sickly sweetness of pink lemonade sliding down your throat as you let out a dramatic sigh.
Your eyes trailed over the fence, the wood structure was tall, yet not tall enough to fully conceal your neighbour’s house, his kitchen on display as you froze, a staggering figure watching out the window at you. You waved awkwardly, holding up your glass of lemonade as Simon turned around, walking away from the glass pane.
Your belly felt hot. Was he watching you that whole time? You glanced down at your sundress, a bright red puffed out with a drastic shade of yellow flowers splattered around the fabric. Did he think you looked weird? Or pretty? What if he thought you were creepy and staring at him first?
You shook your head, chucking your gardening gloves to the side as you strolled inside. The soft strum of music played, your fans working overtime to cool down your house. You had never made much of an effort to speak to your neighbour, yet realised he never made much of an effort to speak to anyone. You had never seen him converse with anyone in the neighbourhood, and there was only a handful of times when another car was pulled into his driveway.
Maybe he was lonely. You despised the way your brain worked, always conjuring up someone’s life story without even a hint of the person. Nevertheless, you found yourself in the kitchen, sifting flour into a sugary mix, moulding chocolate chips into the dough balls before placing them in the oven.
Your kitchen broiled with the smell of chocolate chip cookies, your fingers padding into the tops of them before letting them sit and harden. You would admit, you partook in several hobbies, baking and gardening being two of them. Though you didn’t need to be doing this, a part of you was aching to understand the man who has been living next door to you for over 2 years now.
Shaky hands guided you out the door as you contemplated knocking, pacing back and forth across the porch several times before you anxiously padded against the wood, straightening out your sundress with a plate of cookies in your other. Simon stayed seated for a moment, creeping towards the door almost silently before beady eyes looked through the peephole. The Lieutenant stilled, taking in your pretty figure and the baking in your other hand, the subtle display of your cleavage almost enticing him as he watched you bounce on your feet nervously, awaiting him.
He opened the door, a neutral expression on his face. “Hello!” You squeaked, “I was baking, and I just wanted to bring you some. We haven’t really met before, and I guess I wanted to be a friendly neighbour seeing as you’ve just gotten home from being away.” You rambled on a bit before shutting yourself up, holding the plate out.
Simon held his breath as you spoke, taking in the way your lashes fluttered every time you looked around in a fiddly manner. “Thanks.” His voice was gruff, his accent piercing through the deepness as he showed no sign of emotion in his expression.
“Well... I guess that’s it, enjoy the cookies,” you sighed, handing off the plate as you turned on your heels. Simon let out a deep breath before calling out to you.
“Do you want to come in and I don’t know, watch something? I was just watching the TV, and you went to the trouble of making these. The polite thing to do.”
You nodded, slowly, but let a big smile crack through your face as you quickly huddled inside his home. His house was a lot darker than yours, with neutral colours staining the furniture with minimalistic pieces of clutter. There was a stark difference between the two of you in general. You appeared full of colour and life whereas he was more reserved and mysterious.
You plonked yourself on his couch, grey leather rubbing against the back of your thighs as you adjusted the skirt of your dress. He placed the cookies on the coffee table in front of you both, the cushions sinking as he sat down, his large thighs spread as he turned on the television, his arm automatically slinging across the top of the sofa.
It was awkward. Neither of you spoke as he fiddled with the channels, landing on some old sitcom you had only seen when nothing else was on. Your nimble fingers reached for a cookie as you held your hand over you to make a makeshift plate. Simon’s dark eyes flickered towards you, watching the way your mouth moved, lips curling over the cookie before you sucked any crumbs up.
As time passed, you grew more comfortable, your legs plush against the seat as you rested against the armrest, laying your face on the palm of your hand as you occasionally laughed. Simon felt like a creep, focusing more on you than the TV show he chose. He noted all the small details in your face, every visible crease and line in your features, the way your cheeks puffed up slightly as you laughed and how your iris’ would dart across the screen when a new person appeared.
Greedy carob orbs sucked in the sight of your supple cleavage, the delicate bounce of your breasts as you adjusted yourself occasionally. His cock chubbed at the display of your skin, the hem of your dress riding up over the plushness of your thighs, as his tongue darted out to lick his dry lips.
He rubbed his hand over his mouth as he looked away from you, eyebrows furrowed at the perverted thoughts racking around his skull. He adjusted his pants subtly, letting out a near-silent groan at the thought of you bent over the couch, wanton holes on display as you wept into the leather, his hands cracking down on the fat of your ass as he left a stain of his large hand.
He imagined you on your knees in front of him, doe-eyes staring up at him with unshed tears as you spluttered around his girthy cock, taking him down your tight throat as you dribbled onto your bare breasts. But oh dear, his length practically aches as he imagined the sight of you bouncing on his lap, tight cunt filled with him as he forced you to focus on the dumb show, narrating what was happening as he kissed your sloppy cervix, staining your gummy walls with hot spurts of his cum.
He was almost sad when the show ended, your knees knocking together as you thanked him for inviting you in. He gave you a small smile, eyes creasing slightly as he nodded.
“Thank you for the cookies. If you need anything, let me know.”
You almost giggled in excitement as you rushed inside your own house. It became a routine now; one you didn’t even know he knew about. Desperate fingers clung to the lace of your panties, peeling them down your legs as you ground your sloppy pussy against your pillow, vibrator nestled into your hardened clit as you moaned out into the palm of your hands.
Your hands found your neglected chest, pulling the straps of your nightgown down as you tweaked at the puffy buds, swirling your digits around them as your eyes rolled back in sheer pleasure. Simon’s hand rutted to the frequency of your moans, slick balls aching for release as he waited for the higher-pitched squeal you let out while you orgasmed, yet it never came.
Instead, he was greeted with the sound of a more frightened squeal and frantic rustling. Your eyes were dead shut as you approached your high, opening to take in your blissful figure before they twitched towards the window, the sight of a man climbing over your fence sending chills through every nerve you had as you squealed, rolling onto the floor as you adjusted your nightgown, your panties quickly slipped up your thighs once more.
Distressed hands reached for your phone, calling emergency services about an intruder before you did the most sensible thing you believed to be possible while you waited.
You frantically banged against Simon’s door.
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nanamis-angel · 4 months ago
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𝐉𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥 𝐢𝐭 ♡︎
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𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 ৹ you and megumi have been dating for nine months. you're happy. he's happy. you're perfect for each other. the only issue? he craves affection and he's not sure how to ask for it.
𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬 ৹ megumi x fem!reader, shy megumi, fluff, very very slight angst, cuddling, yuji and nobara mention (they share one braincell).
𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 ৹ 1.4k
𝐚/𝐧 ৹ sorry I haven't written in a while, i'm currently on vacation and haven't been writing. this was in my drafts so I figured I'd post it. I'll be back soon with some more. I hope you enjoy! hearts divider by @/s-h-o-w-y
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You and Megumi had been dating for quite a while now. Just two weeks ago, you had your nine-month anniversary together and you were the happiest you had ever been.
The relationship was very low-key. PDA was almost non-existent—the most he’d ever do in public was hold your hand and even then, he kept his hands to himself most days.
Affection was present in your relationship but you mostly had to ask for it. He’d give it to you without a second thought but he rarely initiated any form of affection besides a few hugs or kisses here and there.
To be honest—it bothered you at first as you believed it was something about you that made him not want to be affectionate but then you realized it was just hard for him to show physical affection because he never really knew how. He was an amazing boyfriend—he just had some struggles.
You were fine with this now and it didn’t bother you, knowing that he still loved you very much.
But what you didn’t know was how badly this affected Megumi. His fear of initiating physical affection was eating him alive from the inside out.
Megumi had a lot of emotions—believe it or not—but he didn’t know how to handle all of it so he just shoved it all down where nobody could find it. He never learned how to deal with any of it so it seemed like the only quick solution.
His mother passed away at a young age and affection or even emotion (besides anger, disappointment, or his father being unamused) was not common from his father and stepmother. Growing up he got the occasional pat on the head or a hug from Gojo and his older sister Tsumiki tried her best to show her love for him when she could—but that had ended all too soon.
He would never admit it but he absolutely craved affection—specifically from you. The poor boy was so touch-starved. His heart soared whenever you asked for a hug or to lay down together. And it tore away at his heart how badly he wanted to ask you for love but for some reason, he was scared to do so.
But one thing about Megumi was that he was persistent and he was going to get through this and overcome his anxiety one way or another. After all, you were already his girlfriend. What could possibly go wrong?
Right now, you were on a walk with him, Nobara, and Yuji. Shoko had insisted on the four of you going out and getting some sun and none of you were about to argue with the intimidating school doctor so you all quickly got out there.
You walked alongside Megumi while Nobara and Yuji goofed off a couple of feet ahead of the two of you, not paying attention to either of you at all. Megumi quietly walked with a stoic expression, keeping his hands in his pockets. He had barely said anything but that’s because his mind was racing.
You didn’t mind it at all as long as you were with him. Megumi’s gaze kept flickering down to your hand, which was at your side as you walked. He wanted to just reach down and grab your hand tightly but something stopped him. Why? He had no idea.
You were his girlfriend, he had held your hand before and nothing happened. So why would it be any different now? Anxiety over simple things never made anyone think sensible thoughts. But it was enough to make him nervous to simply reach out and grab your hand.
And the worst part? You had no idea. You simply kept walking with a big smile on your face as the two of you walked together.
Before he could stop himself, he just took his hand out of his pocket and grabbed your hand rather abruptly, not saying a single thing as if trying to ignore what just happened.
You were a little stunned—just because it was so sudden. And he had just grabbed your hand rather than lacing his fingers together with yours or something like that so you looked at him with a little bit of confusion. “Megumi?” You asked.
Noticing your eyes on him, he just avoided eye contact, feeling his cheeks heat up for some reason. All he was doing was holding your hand! Well, more like gripping it at this point.
“You don’t have to grip my hand like that, I’m not going anywhere.” You chuckled, trying to make him loosen up a bit so you could intertwine your fingers with his. Really, you were just glad that he was holding your hand and had done it himself.
Megumi didn’t reply but his grip loosened up so you could intertwine your fingers with his, properly holding hands now. You gave his hand a little squeeze and a reassuring smile. To be honest, it was really cute to see him like this but you weren’t going to say anything about it and just decided to leave it as it was.
Holding hands—it was such a simple thing but Megumi’s heart felt like it was racing. He was proud of himself for initiating things but boy was his heart pounding.
But feeling his skin against yours was so nice; feeling the warmth of your hand against his, it was so comforting. Goodness, he loved you so much. He just didn’t know how to say it sometimes.
The two of you held hands until you got back to the school. Nobara and Yuji rushed inside, not wanting to be out in the heat anymore while you and Megumi took your time getting inside. Sometimes you believed Nobara and Yuji shared one brain cell between each other—and they probably did, to be honest.
Megumi’s hand fell from yours when you got inside, which was okay, you were going to sit down to cool off anyway.
You made your way inside and to one of the rooms, walking over to one of the couches. Thankfully you had nothing else going on for the rest of the day so you could just practically pass out on the couch for a little while.
Before you sat down, you looked at Megumi, who was just standing there looking at you. “You okay, sweetheart?” You asked, slightly confused. He had been acting odd all day and it confused you. What was going on?
Again, no reply. Instead, you felt his hands suddenly grab your waist and pull you close to him, his arms enveloping you in a big hug. You stood there stunned for a moment before wrapping your arms around him tightly. It was clear that he really needed this hug.
“Megumi—,” You spoke but he cut you off.
“Don’t say anything.” He said softly, “Just don’t say anything.” He breathed out, not wanting to be asked any questions right now. All he wanted to do was hold you.
With you still in his arms, he moved and sat down on the couch, putting you on his lap and burying his face into the crook of your neck. It was so comforting, so nice. He just wanted to stay like this forever, in the safety and comfort of your arms.
You were still stunned that he was doing this but you didn’t question a thing, continuing to keep your arms locked tightly around him. Eventually, your hand made its way up to his scalp, gently raking your nails through his hair. You could feel him practically melt into your touch and you let out a little chuckle.
“Cute,” You mumbled, your voice could barely be heard.
Megumi let out a little huff and just kept his arms around you, his cheeks warm from embarrassment.
You weren’t sure how long you two were like that and eventually, you had somehow shifted to where the both of you were laying down, still holding each other in your arms. Megumi had practically fallen asleep, comfortably cuddled up right in your arms.
And he would’ve fallen asleep—had Yuji not walked into the room and seen the two of you lying together on the couch. Poor, innocent Yuji who could physically never bring himself to be quiet. “Ooh, Fushiguro! Getting comfortable with [name] there huh?” He said lightheartedly, thinking nothing of it. He really was just teasing.
Within an instant, Megumi was sitting up with an unamused expression, reaching to grab the nearest thing he could, his face pink and flushed “Shut up!”
Yuji was out of that room within seconds, just barely dodging the magazine Megumi had thrown at him.
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wcters · 8 days ago
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𝗧𝗘𝗘𝗡𝗔𝗚𝗘𝗥 𝗜𝗡 𝗟𝗢𝗩𝗘
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pairing: lando norris x fem!reader
word count: 2k+
summary: your relationship with lando through the teenage years
warnings: pda, established relationship, mostly fluff, some angst | i know lando moved to glastonbury later in his life but 🤫 i also wrote this in 2 hours instead of doing because i got excited and had an idea
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     You and Lando had first met when you were teenagers. Him being a lanky teenage boy with puffy cheeks and curly hair, and you being a young girl with frizzy hair and a youthful look in your eyes. It wasn’t a surprise to anyone when you first started dating, it’s like you both were on the same wavelength.
You still remember the day you met him ━━ how could you not? You two went to the same school so you knew who each other was, and you had heard of him from people around the town talking about his karting career. Your parents were family friends with the Norris’s, and they never failed to talk about how proud they were of their children.
It was the start of school after the 2013 summer break. You had quite a small friend group in school so when you had classes with no one you were friends with, you tended to be quiet and focus on your school work. That resulted in you being forced to sit next to the rowdy kids. Why? You didn’t know. It’s not like it changed them, and it just bothered you. It was one of those times, and it was Lando who was put next to you. Him and his friend group tended to be the disruptive bunch. They weren’t bad people or bad at school, just got a little too loud at times and forgot to pay attention.
You were sat in the middle row of your math class. The seat next to you was empty at the start of class, but at the end it wasn’t. Lando and his friends got a little too loud and he was “punished” by being put next to you so he couldn’t talk with his friends. You looked at him when he made his way over, but that was it. He was cute ━━ you could admit it. And it didn’t hurt that someone cute was being put next to you, but you shook your feelings off and forced yourself to focus. At them end of class when you were grabbing your things, a hand poked your shoulder. You turned around and came face-to-face with the Norris boy. He looked a little nervous, fidgety and a small smile on his face. You tilted your head. “Hey ━━ I uh ━━ didn’t have enough time to finish some of the notes. Do you mind if I borrow some of yours?”
You were a little surprised, you didn’t think he cared that much about school. Most kids wouldn’t bother getting down a little bit you missed ━━ not even you ━━ but he did. You smiled and nodded. “Sure,” you told him as you grabbed the paper out of your binder and gave it to him, “just return it once you’re done?” He nodded. The next day in class, he walked over to you and gave the paper pack, and you figured he would go back to his friends because the seat want permanent, but he didn’t. He put his bag on the ground and sat in the seat next to you. He did that, every day, for the rest of the year.
You two got to know each other well. You learned more about his competitive karting career and his family, while you told him about your family and friends. Nothing ever happened between you two, you were just friends. You had a crush on him, but you convinced yourself it was your mind tricking you because it was your first friend that was a boy. He thought the same, but he didn’t not believe his, he just didn’t act on it.
It was summer break, a year after you met him, when you realized you did like him. You were chatting with your grandma at her house as you were helping her sting stuff around the house. She had asked about your school semesters and how it was. You rambled on and on, not realizing that you mostly takes about Lando. It wasn’t until you were putting one of the last boxes down for her that it finally hit. “You must really like that boy, no?” You looked at her weird. “All you did was talk about him. You must like him.” It was when she said that that you had a moment of realization. After you finished helping her you went home to your mom and talked to her, confused on how to deal with this newfound information. She just laughed and gave you a hug, telling you that almost every teenage girl goes through this with someone in their life. That made you feel a bit better.
Your friendship turned into something more a couple weeks after that. The Norris family had invited your family to come watch one of Lando’s races at Buckmore Park. Your parents agreed as they wanted to catch up . . . You agreed because you wanted to see Lando. He did well, coming 5th place. You could tell he wasn’t happy about, but you were. You and your family met up with him at the end of the race. He wasn’t looking too happy, but when he saw you his face lit up. When you congratulated him he blushed. Your families talked for a bit ━━ mostly about how summer break was going ━━ and you were about to leave when Lando called out your name.
Your family continued to leave, saying they would meet up with you at the car with your mom winking at you. You blushed. At first there was some awkward silence, and then he asked “would you like to go on a date?” You were a bit shocked, not expecting it, and you were nervous. What did people do on dates anyway? You know adults went out to eat and drink but you were fifteen! You completely forgot that you had to answer his question, and he started sputtering out words saying that you didn’t have to, and he was sorry before you interrupted him with a “yes.” It was his turn to look surprise.
You went on a date the next week, both of you unknowingly doing the same thing and panicking to your parents beforehand. It went fine, a bit awkward ━━ obviously ━━ but you thought it was cute. You went out for icecream and walked around Bristol. Halfway through the date he slipped his hand into yours, and you accepted it, but didn’t dare to look him in the eye.
After that, you two were inseparable. You two were always together, and practically lived at each others houses. Sometimes ━━ for weeks on end ━━ your parents never saw you a lot because you were always at Lando’s house. His parents always updated yours on how you were, and they trusted you. During an interview for Drive to Survive, your parents swore during those times they only saw you in the morning and night, the rest of the time you were with Lando. This would switch between you staying at his and him staying at yours.
Though Lando wouldn’t admit it when he was a teenager, he would do anything for you. If you asked him to jump off a bridge, he wouldn’t even ask why, he’s just do it. There are so many pictures on your phone and Polaroids of him in “embarrassing” situations ━━ like one where he had a face mask on and his nails painted. You keep that one in the back of your phone case. He would let you braid his hair, practice makeup on him, help him with his skincare, and so many other things. This would always be in the secrecy of your room and when your families weren’t there because he dreaded the day his family saw him like that.
He had no idea that you had shown his sisters and parents almost every single one. They promised to keep it quiet, and they did. You also know they won’t tell him that they have some of those pictures on their phones. It’s a secret between you and them, a need to know thing.
Whenever you had sleepovers at his house, you would stay with his sisters because you weren’t allowed to be with him ━━ for good reason ━━ and because you loved his sisters. As you got older, you bonded more with them, helping them out with boy problems and girl problems, because everyone had those girls in high school who made your life a living hell. You broke down crying when you found out they were moving to Glastonbury. How would you survive without not being able to hug your boyfriend? How would you cope without the gossip sessions with his sisters? The talks about your life over helping Cisca with dinner and talking politics with Adam? Laughing at embarrassing moments of Lando with his brother?
Before that, you had put off getting your license. You walked or took buses to most places, and it saved you money. When you found out they were moving though, you made it your life’s mission it get your license and a car. You were on moving day, helping the family with setting things up and cleaning up the place. You still remember the dinner you had that night. It wasn’t fancy, just Chinese takeout on a table in the half put together living room, but it was one of the moments where you truly felt like family. It wasn’t that you hadn’t before, but it was the private ness of the situation that really hit your heart. You begged to stay over, not caring that it was a school night, but you couldn’t. You hugged everyone goodbye with teary eyes, kissing Lando, and promising to be back soon.
And you were. When you had that car, you spent an unbelievable amount of money on gas. You drove to his house almost every weekend. Sometimes he would come over to your house, but it was mostly you going over there out of convenience. If Lando wanted to go to yours, he’d probably have to pile all of his siblings in the car, while you didn’t have to do that. Besides driving to Glastonbury, your car was also used as a pick me up. Whenever something happened with his sisters, you’d be there in a heartbeat, telling them to get in ━━ telling Lando he can’t come with him grumbling something under his breath ━━ and you’d go and grab food. Whatever they needed, you were there ready to do it? Boy problems? Junk food and a sad playlist. School problems? Listening to them vent and giving them advice. Period problems? That depended on that they wanted. You even remember one time on March break Flo had an experience with a boy and you took her to a rage room . . . It was so fun, and you definitely did it again with Cisca.
While you were there for all the important events in Lando’s life, he was the same. He was there when your grandma died, and you swore he was one of the few things that kept you together. He was there when you graduated high school and got accepted into your dream school.
Your relationship stayed the same throughout his whole career, you to where you both were now, living in Monaco. You still acted like teenagers, jokingly fighting over little things and teasing each other. Your love baver wavered, it stayed the same for each other, maybe even became stronger. There were periods in your relationship like when he first started in Formula One and you moved to college that it was tricky, but you go through it. You always would.
As you sat on the sofa in your home and twirled the ring on your finger, you remembered the whole of your relationship and the future of it. You were broken out of your trance by a kiss on your head. You hummed, not turning to look at him. “She’s gone to bed. She’s been changed and given her bottle. You smiled and looked up at him, “thank you.” He kissed you on your lips, “of course. You ready to go to bed, Mrs. Norris?” You chuckled and got up, walking around to the couch to meet him in his arms.
“Always, Mr. Norris, always.”
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oikasugayama · 1 year ago
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YOU TELL HIM THAT YOU'RE H0RN¥
PREMISE: You're just friends, but you wanna test the boundaries. How does he react when you tell him that you're horny?
INCLUDES: Akutagawa, Dazai, Nikolai, Poe, Atsushi, Ranpo
No smut, heavy on dialogue. These are goofy!! One part only.
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Akutagawa
That gif is the horny taking over his body.
"Akutagawa."
"Hm?"
"I'm horny."
He looks up at you, face somewhere between horror-stricken and confused.
"Why would you say such a thing to me?"
"Obviously because I want you to do something about it."
"What?"
"I said--"
"--No, no, I heard you the first time."
"So?"
"So what?"
"Sooo, do you want to have sex, orrr?"
Akutagawa stares blankly at something nearby for a solid minute, completely silent, and then stands up abruptly.
"Yes. Let's go to a love hotel."
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Dazai
"Dazaaaaai. I'm horny," you whine, an over-exaggerated pout on your face.
"Ohh? Shall I help you take care of that?" He purrs, exaggeratedly flirting. "I'll treat you reaaaal nice." He winks, ready for you to say something like "ew no, freak" and laugh it off like usual. Except...
"God, yes. I was gonna ask."
"Huh?" He short-circuits. He pauses, trying to figure out if you're fucking with him or not. Usually you'd start laughing after two or three seconds, but you're standing up and walking toward him--
"Holy shit. Oh my god, you're serious?!" He jumps up from his chair, eyes lighting up, and horny stirring in his pants. "If you're joking you have to tell me right now."
"Why don't you come with me to the broom closet and see if I'm joking?"
"This is the greatest day of my life," he says as you pull him along.
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Nikolai
"I'm really horny, so you're gonna have to stop looking so hot or I'm gonna have to leave."
The grin he already wore spread wider across his face.
"Is that so?"
He summons and portal and in the blink of an eye is crowding you in your space, laying a hand on your thigh, breathing on your neck.
"What's doing it for you, dovey? Is it the beautiful, luscious hair? My devilishly handsome smile?"
"It's those fucking thunder thighs in the striped pants is what it is," you huff, trying to push him back, but he takes your hands and moves your arms to be around his shoulders.
"I can keep them on while I fuck you," he says lowly into your ear. "Would you like that?"
You pull him against you.
"Put your money where your mouth is, Nikolai."
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Poe
"Poe, I'm having a really nice time hanging out with you and all, but I have to be honest: I'm really horny, so I probably need to go home before I start trying to fuck you."
He is so flustered that he can't even form a sentence. What you can see of his face is beet red, and he scrambles for the door. You think he's going to open it and usher you out, but he presses his back against it, blocking your exit.
"No," he finally says, "Don't leave."
"Poe, you're in the danger zone. If I don't relieve some tension I'm gonna get really grouchy."
"I can help," he stutters out.
"Huh?"
He starts trying to apologize, but you laugh and cross the room to him.
"I didn't expect you to be into it," you admit. "I definitely said it to get your attention, but I thought you'd say no."
"Then I have not made my feelings known enough."
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Atsushi
"Can I ask you a stupid question?"
"Sure!" Atsushi responds enthusiastically. Your head is laying in his lap and you're staring blankly at the ceiling.
"Do you ever get horny when you hang out with your friends?"
"Uhh, I don't think that's something that happens with your friends," he says, and you turn to look up at him.
"It doesn't? Like, you've never gotten horny while spending time with me?"
"Uhh..." His face slowly starts turning red.
"I've gotten horny hanging out with you. I'm kind of horny right now, honestly."
"UMMMMM..........."
"So you're saying that right now my face being near your dick isn't turning you on?"
"I wouldn't say that..."
"I sure hope you wouldn't because I think I can literally feel you getting hard against my skull. Do you wanna stop talking and start making out now?"
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Ranpo
"I'm horny."
"I know."
"What? How do you know?"
"You keep squirming in your seat, you're trying to arch your back when you lean your elbow on the table, and you keep biting your lip when you think I'm not looking at you."
"But you must be looking at me because you noticed all of that. But I haven't seen your eyes on me."
"I'm watching you from the corner of my eye like I usually do."
"Oh? And why would you be watching me, Ranpo?"
"Because I like to?" he says like it's obvious.
"Do you have a little crush on me, Ranpo?"
"Wouldn't you like to know. If only you have my super deduction you'd know."
"I don't think I need super deduction to know. I think I can figure it out in one question."
"Oh? Try me."
"When are you going to fuck me?"
He tries to bite back a smile but he can't. He finally looks directly at you, and it tells you everything you need to know.
"Your place or mine?"
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smileysuh · 27 days ago
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dumb frat boy
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🌙 starring. Lee Donghyuck x afab!Reader
🔮 preview. “I’d ask what you want me to do to you, but I did some research last night, watched some of that Hentaid shit you were talking about. It’s a lot of bondage, isn’t it, Angel? A lot of… creampies. You’ve got a thing for being held down and filled, huh? I guess…” he lets out a small laugh, “I guess I’m a little shocked, seeing as you’re so sassy with me. Guess you just want someone to put you in your place. What is it you called Johnny? A good daddy dom? I might not always be a dom, but for you, I can make it work.” 
tw/cw. yandere/stalker sub themes, ‘unknown’ caller, he’s horny, mentions of porn/masturbation, weed/alcohol use, unprotected sex, oral (m/f receiving), deep throating, face fucking, nipple pinching/nipple worship, fingering, dirty talk, praise, hyuck has a thick cock, cum/fullness kink, creampie, etc… I pet names: (hers) Angel (his) baby.
👹 rating. 18+ explicit I wc. 9.1k
🍭 aus. uni/frat au, yandere subthemes, Halloween, etc…
☀️ mlist + an.  We're back in the Ghostie au! I'm so happy to be able to put out a fic for Hyuck a year after the original story captivated so many of us <3
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Prologue
“I’ve got the best idea ever,” Hyuck says the moment after he’s released his first breath from the bong.
Johnny lets out a sigh, leaning back in his recliner. “This better not be another themed wet tittie car wash fundraiser.”
“Excuse me, that idea was brilliant- pairing up with our sister sorority and being horny on cars while in costumes that somewhat resembled cars from the Disney movie Cars made us more cash for the Humane Society than we’ve ever raised, so dial it down on your tone there, Ghostie.” 
The elder frat boy rolls his eyes at the nickname. When word got out about how he wooed his girlfriend last Halloween, the term ‘Ghostie’ ended up sticking, and Johnny’s never been able to let down the sexy stalker angle, even this year's pledges know about it.
“As I was saying,” Hyuck continues, “I figure I’ll take a page out of your book, and do some weird phone call thing to woo my Angel.”
“Oh, so you’re finally gonna admit your feelings to your best friend?” Johnny asks in shock, sitting up to take a better look at the younger frat boy.
“Yes, but after a week of toying with her,” Hyuck announces. “It will be fun. We all know she got her nickname Angel because she’s really more of a demon, she’s going to love this shit.”
“Well, I guess you know her better than I do,” Johnny muses. “So what’s the plan?”
“Basically, you took the best phone call stalker with Ghost Face, but I figure there are other options out there. Have you ever seen Black Christmas?” 
“Like… the one from the seventies?” Johnny’s apprehension is clear in his features, and he reaches for the bong to take another hit.
“Yeah, the one where the dude calls the sorority and is a horny fuck on the phone.”
“Isn’t there some weird incest plot and jaundice thing in the second movie though?”
“No one watches the second movie! We don’t claim the way they butchered the story with that!” Hyuck exclaims, feeling agitated already. 
“I feel like, if you called her, and did the whole Black Christmas thing, she wouldn’t know what the fuck movie you’re referencing.” 
“They did a remake in 2019,” Hyuck insists.
“Did anyone actually watch it though?” Johnny’s an avid horror film lover, and if he hasn’t seen the remakes, it’s not looking good for you to be able to pick up the references, a thought that throws Hyuck off.
However, even though he’s been swayed, Hyuck won’t give up on this idea. “Look, think of it as a Love is Blind sort of thing- I can make her fall in love with me over the phone, and then when I reveal myself as her best friend, she’ll be all ‘woah, we’re soulmates!’”
Johnny looks as skeptical as ever. “Are you sure that’s the way this is going to go?”
Hyuck scrunches his nose up in distaste at the lack of support. “Yes.” 
The elder frat boy takes in a deep breath, shaking his head. “If this is what you want to do, I won’t stop you. I just… I think your Angel would react better if you were just straight up with her. Maybe there’s a reason the two of you have never gone past the friend stage. I think the good thing about me doing this last year, was I was just acquaintances with Tiny, I made it clear off the bat that I just wanted to know her better. If she didn’t want me, then that would be fine. If you do this with Angel, and she finds out it’s you and doesn’t return your feelings, you’re going to ruin a friendship.”
Hyuck thinks about what Johnny’s just said as he watches the tall resident Ghostie take another bong hit. It’s true- In Hyuck’s heart of hearts, he knows that… there must be a reason the two of you have never hooked up, but it’s a reason he’s never been able to identify.
The cocky side of him refuses to believe it’s because you’re not attracted to him- there’s definitely sexual tension between the two of you, so it must be something else. 
He’s so tired of toeing the line, especially since you’ve always been kindred, mischievous, horny little souls.
You were with Hyuck when he pranked Sigma Veta Tau last Christmas and put glitter on their ceiling fans. You were with Hyuck when he put a rotisserie chicken in Alpha Tappa Zeta’s air vents. In fact, you’ve been present at almost all of Hyuck’s master plan shenanigans. 
There’s something going on between the two of you and he knows it. 
Last year, when Johnny had pulled his little semi-stalker Ghostie stunt, Hyuck had noted that whoever was behind the anonymous calls had some balls to hit on a girl that way, and he’ll be damned if he doesn’t live up to that.
“Listen,” Hyuck sighs. “This is between us. Angel is going to try to figure out who’s calling her, and I need you to keep your mouth shut, okay?”
“Fine,” Johnny agrees, shaking his head. “Hyuck, I love you, but sometimes I forget how much of a dumb frat boy you are.” 
“You know what?” Hyuck grabs at the bong. “I’ll take that as a fucking compliment.” 
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Sunday
You’re in the middle of a much-needed nap. Curled up on your fuzzy blankets, your textbook long since discarded while your mood lighting twinkles through the space, it’s the most comfortable you’ve been all term. It’s late October, the nights come early, and you’re starting to not mind the cool air that seeps through the crack in your window.
It’s because you’re dead asleep, that when your phone rings, you don’t even check who’s calling. You simply bolt up, dazed and confused, reaching to pull your cell to your ear. 
“Hello?”
At first, all you hear is breathing on the other end of the line, and you roll your eyes. You’re no stranger to dumb calls, spam calls, and the like- but then, “Angel?”
Well, this is definitely not a spam caller, they wouldn’t know your nickname if it was.
“Who’s this?” you ask, pulling your phone away from your ear to look down at your screen. It’s a ‘No Caller ID,’ and you let out another exasperated sound.  
“A friend,” the person on the other end of the line tells you. 
“A friend I don’t have in my contacts?” you scoff.
“Burner phone, baby.”
“And what would be the point of getting a burner phone just to call little ol’ me?” you sigh, relaxing against your pillows and pinching the bridge of your nose in annoyance. 
“Why so serious, Angel?”
“Jeeze, dude, if you’re going to do the whole creepy caller before Halloween cliche, at least stick to your character.” You can’t believe he’s quoting Health Ledger’s Joker at you now. “Who are you even trying to be? Ghost Face is so last Halloween, we all know Johnny knocked that shit out of the park. A copycat sequel is just… early 2000’s.”
“Okay, let me drop character for just a second,” the man on the other end of the line sighs, and you giggle at how his voice modulator emphasizes his own exasperation. “Think, horny telephone guy.”
“I wouldn’t call Ghost Face particularly horny, he was just a nerd.”
“I’m not Ghost Face!” he insists. “Scream came out in the mid-nineties, think earlier than that.” 
“What, am I supposed to be some kind of horror movie expert?” you scoff. 
“Fine, I’ll just tell you,” the guy sighs. “Have you seen Black Christmas?”
“Never even heard of it.”
“Fuck,” he curses. “Well, don’t go watch it, it has some cult following but it’s not even one of my favourites- the reason I chose the dude from that movie is because he’s a horny little fuck and calls a sorority house and some shit- and also, don’t look up the second movie, I don’t claim the sequel.” 
“Wow, I love that you chose a character based purely on horniness and not if the movie is even good,” you giggle.
“Well, Johnny took the best slasher caller! What was I supposed to do? Go all ghost child from The Black Phone movie?”
“What’s The Black Phone movie?”
“Ethan Hawke? Horror veteran, who plays the hero author in Sinister, turned bad guy in the 2021 film by the same director?” 
You let out a whistle. “TBH, dude, it sucks Johnny got to Ghostie first last year, because I’d bet money you know more about horror movies than he does.”
“I one hundred percent do!” 
“Okay, so back to the point,” you laugh. “You’re calling me as this horny dude from some Halloween Christmas movie- for what?”
“To talk to you?” he suggests. “To uh… be horny… at you?” 
“And what does this accomplish? I mean- we all know Johnny’s Ghostie story from last year, he called a girl every day, told her to come to his frat party, and revealed himself there. Is that your game plan?”
“I was thinking about it, but it sounds kind of lackluster now.”
“That’s because it’s not an original idea at all,” you point out.
“Sequels aren’t always original,” the man counters. “Lots of movies have the same plot just different characters, some recurring- look, it doesn’t have to be original. The original angle to this Halloween movie is that I’m going to be way more horny than Johnny probably ever was last year.” 
“And I’m just going to allow that?” you grin. 
“Yeah, because we both know why you have your nickname, don’t we, Angel? You’re a dirty little minx, and you’re going to love this.”
“Except, what if, Halloween comes, and you’re a frat guy that I think is ugly?” you ask. “If you know me, you know I have very specific tastes. There’s only a handful of guys I’d actually be interested in, what makes you think you’re one of them?”
The line is dead for a few stagnant seconds, then, “I just am, okay?”
“Cocky little fucker,” you giggle.
“Don’t be rude.” 
At this point, you’re pretty sure you know who’s on the other end of the line. 
There’s been a few tells from your best friend, Donghyuck. For example, he’s the biggest actual horror buff in the NCT frat. He idolizes Johnny, and was always salty that Mark got the Chicago man as a Big and not himself, so he had a close eye on the events that took place last year in NCT’s ‘Ghostie’ Saga. On top of all of this, there’s an extreme familiarity in the way he’s talking to you, a preexisting natural tint to his diction. Lastly, Hyuck’s the cockiest little dumb frat boy of them all, and it’s one of the reasons you’ve always loved him… one of the reasons you’ve also always kept a bit of distance from your best friend whenever situations have had the option of turning romantic.
Well, if this is how he wants to make his move at you, so be it.
Maybe he’ll convince you that he can be more than a good fuck- you’d never risk your friendship for a one-night stand, no, he’ll have to prove that he could go all in, that he deserves you.
And if all else is just extra, you can at least have some fun toying with Hyuck while he thinks he’s the one toying with you. 
“Okay,” you sigh, stretching. “Let's do this, but we can start tomorrow, you woke me up from a nap, and I’d very much like to get back to it.” 
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Monday
“I’m not waking you up from a nap, am I, Angel?” 
“Nope,” you grin, mischief working its way through your mind as you think of the best way to throw Hyuck off. “I was just watching some porn, flicking the bean, you know, that sort of thing.”
You hear him choke. “F… Flicking the bean?”
“Come on, you have to have heard of flicking the bean!” you insist. “Buddy, you’re the one who’s supposed to be calling me to be horny, this is your perfect opportunity!”
“Right, I uh…” he coughs. “How’s… how’s the bean flicking going?”
“Dude, do you know anything about seduction?” you scoff. “‘How’s the bean flicking going,’” you imitate. “Lame!”
“Rude!” he counters.
God, he’s so obviously Hyuck and you bet he doesn’t even realize it. 
“You know what, if you must ask, the bean flicking is going really well.”
“What kind of porn do you watch?” he questions next. 
“Wouldn’t you like to know?” you tease.
“Tell me,” Hyuck insists. 
“Might have to get you to beg if you want to hear those kinds of details.”
“I’m the creepy phone stalker, I call the shots.”
You roll your eyes. “Sure you do, buddy.” 
“Stop calling me buddy.”
“Okay, dude.”
“Don’t call me dude either!”
“Then what am I supposed to call you? It’s not like anyone knows the name of the slasher from Halloween Christmas, or whatever. You’re no Ghost Face, friend.”
“It’s Black Christmas,” he corrects you. “And I’m pretty sure his name is Billy.”
“Wow, how sexy, Billy,” you scoff. “You really didn’t think this one through that well, did you, buddy?”
“Original Ghost Face is who? Stu Matcher and Billy fucking Loomis,” Hyuck points out. “It’s not the worst name in the world.”
“Tell me one person who refers to Ghost Face as Billy Loomis though, one person, and I’ll tell you what porn I watch.”
“The… screenwriter?”
“Jesus Christ, dude. That’s such low-hanging fruit.”
“Now tell me what porn you watch.” 
You let out a deep sigh. “All this bickering has me not in the mood anymore.”
“Weird, I’m extra in the mood now.”
“Cuz you’re a weirdo who gets off on play fighting, I bet.” 
His voice takes on a whiney pitch when he says, “Tell me what porn you watch!” 
“Honestly?” You’re tired of this conversation, but you see one last opportunity to toy with Hyuck before you hang up. “Hentaid on Porn Hub, I’m all about that alien, tentacle shit,” your voice takes on the air of a damsel in distress when you muse, “No mortal man can ever satiate me, I’m afraid.”
“Holy shit,” Hyuck whispers. “Are you for real? Tentacle porn?”
“Uh huh, now, goodnight, buddy.” You hang up on Hyuck with a shit-eating grin on your face, knowing you’ve left him something to think about. 
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Tuesday
“Hey,” you say, sitting down next to your best friend in the on-campus burger joint where you spend your Tuesday two-hour period between classes. “I’ve got something to talk to you about.”
Hyuck is mid-bite of a burger, and he holds up a hand, covering his obnoxious eating style. “Just a sec,” he mumbles. 
You wait patiently, staring at your friend while he finishes up. He’s in a black hoodie, and black t-shirt, and his laptop is open next to where he’s eating his combo meal. He’s usually here before you are, scoping out a booth and food so you two can chill in peace before your shared history course. 
History isn’t your major per se, it’s more of a special interest, and the same goes for Hyuck. He’s a film major- another obvious dent in his plan to fly under the radar as your phone stalker who just happens to know everything about horror movies. 
“Okay,” Hyuck says, swallowing the last of his large bite of food. “What’s up?”
“So on Sunday, I got a phone call from some dude with a burner phone,” you explain, watching closely as Hyuck’s brows raise just a moment too late to be legitimate surprise.
“Yeah? What did he say?”
“He’s trying to recreate Johnny’s whole Ghostie thing from last year, but as is the case with most sequels in the horror genre, he’s kind of missing the mark.”
Hyuck chokes a little on his food, and he reaches for his Coke to wash it down. “What’s he doing wrong?”
“What an odd question, Hyuck,” you say, narrowing your eyes at him. “But, to answer it, he’s just… not loose enough. He feels too rigid. I gave him an in last night, if you know what I mean, and he just, fumbled it.”
“An in?” Hyuck cocks his head to the side, “what do you mean?”
“You know, an opportunity to be horny with me.”
“And you want him to be horny with you?”
“I mean, that’s the whole point isn’t it? He promised me he’d be more horny than Johnny was last year, but I feel like Johnny probably had this whole daddy dom thing down- I don’t know what this new guy is trying to give, but he’s not giving, you feel me?”
“Huh, that’s weird,” Hyuck shrugs, picking up his burger again. “Do you have any guesses who it might be?”
You shrug. “He told me it was someone I think is hot. So that means it could be Jaehyun- God, you know how sexy I think Jaehyun is,” - you’re relishing in the way you get to tease Hyuck like this - “it could be Jeno, or Jaemin- I don’t think I’d even mind if both of them came up to me on Halloween, full original Scream style- Jaemin is definitely the Stu Matcher character, though.” 
“Jeeze, Angel,” Hyuck grimaces, putting his burger down and leaning back in the booth. “Do you have to talk about two of my best friends tag teaming you while I’m eating?”
“Sorry, babes,” you snicker. “I just think this week is going to be fun, and I can’t wait for my Billy Halloween Christmas stalker to find his A-game.”
You half expect Hyuck to correct you on the movie title, and you see him bite his tongue, fighting the urge to throw his own cover under the bus in a bid to protect the sanctity of cult films. But alas, Hyuck shuts himself up with another bite of his burger, and with one last look at your friend, you pull out your laptop to actually get some work done.
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Wednesday
“Hey, bud,” you answer your call with a grin, twirling your hair around your finger while your eyes skim your textbook. “What happened yesterday? You never called.”
“You looked busy,” comes a curt retort.
“Oh… did you see me with Hyuck?” you stifle a laugh, of course he’s going to play this jealousy angle, when in reality, he was probably just butthurt about you toying with him. 
“It was hard not to notice you with him,” he responds. 
“Someone sounds jealous.”
“What’s your relationship with him?”
God, Hyuck must be very desperate to be trying to get details out of you about how you feel about him, through his alter ego.
You take a deep breath, closing your book and leaning back in your chair. “We’re close,” you start.
“But just friends.” 
“Just friends,” you confirm. “I guess, I mean, obviously he’s cute. There’s no argument about Hyuck being cute. And he’s fun, he’s cocky, he’s mischievous- I guess my one concern with him is if he could do something long term. I may come off as a dirty little demon child, but in reality- I don’t want to put all my eggs in one guys basket if he’s busy collecting eggs, if that makes any sense.”
“You want a guy who just wants you, who puts in the effort.”
“Exactly.” 
“I’m putting in effort,” your ‘mystery man’ points out.
“I suppose this could be considered effort.” 
“I spent twenty five bucks on this burner phone.”
“Wow, buddy, that must have broke the bank.” 
“I have money!” he insists.
Hyuck definitely has money, it’s one of the reasons he’s probably so cocky. He comes from a large line of Lee’s, a family group that owns development all around the country. You’ve tried not to let any gold digging inklings stain your perception of the frat boy though, that wouldn’t be fair to him.
“Hey, friend?” you ask, choosing a base level nickname for this man who is clearly Hyuck.
“Yes, Angel?”
“Were you thinking about it yesterday?”
“Thinking about what?”
“Me, you know… watching alien tentacle porn and flicking my bean.” You try to make your voice sound innocent, but you can’t help the mischievous grin that works it’s way onto your face. 
You can hear him swallow thickly. “Hold that thought, I’m going to call you back.” 
“Wait-” before you can get an explanation, the line goes dead, and you release an annoyed huff, crossing your arms over your chest.
He’s such a little shit, leaving you hanging like this-
Two minutes go by, then five- and just as you’re starting to be really annoyed, Hyuck calls you back.
“Took you long enough,” you snap.
“Listen, Angel, I needed to get in the mood. I’m too rigid talking to a pretty girl like you, had to take some of the load off.” You can tell, even under his modulated voice, that Hyuck has most definitely just gotten into some weed.
This is so classic him- and to be completely fair, you’ve witnessed the effects of Mary-Jane on one mister Lee Donghyuck. He’s much more suave while green, less anxious, more willing to take risks.
“So, to answer your question,” Hyuck continues, letting out a breath. “I have been thinking about you. Been thinking about your cute voice, how it would sound begging, whining, whimpering- what little noises you’d make choking on cock, or tentacle-” Hyuck laughs. “I’ll be honest, I don’t have an octopus dick or anything. If you let me, you’ll have to be okay with a human style back breaking.” 
You’re shocked.
Had he really just said all of this to you?
Was weed all it took for him to pull up his big boy panties and lay some actual sin onto you?
You can’t ignore the way your pussy flutters with interest at his words, and you shift uncomfortably in your chair. “I’m sure we can make it work… what kind of tool are you packing, buddy?” 
Hyuck chuckles. “It’s thick, I think it will do the job.”
Hyuck isn’t the tallest frat boy, but in no way is he the smallest either. He’s average, and to think that he has an above average girthy dick- well, you can’t help lick your lips in interest. 
“Stalker got your tongue, Angel?” Hyuck asks. “You’ve just gone awfully quiet.”
“I’m just…” you swallow thickly. “Just thinking.”
“About my thick cock splitting you open?” 
God, your pussy is throbbing now- “How… our first few calls were so awkward-”
“I promised you dirty, didn’t I? Needed some courage first, but… I can tell you’re not mad about it.” 
You’re definitely not mad about it.
You think maybe part of you would be upset if you didn’t know your ‘mystery caller’s’ identity- but the safety of knowing, in your heart of hearts, that this is Hyuck- it changes everything, and you can allow yourself to feel the pleasure already beating through you.
“I’d ask what you want me to do to you, but I did some research last night, watched some of that Hentaid shit you were talking about. It’s a lot of bondage, isn’t it, Angel? A lot of… creampies. You’ve got a thing for being held down and filled, huh? I guess…” he lets out a small laugh, “I guess I’m a little shocked, seeing as you’re so sassy with me. Guess you just want someone to put you in your place. What is it you called Johnny? A good daddy dom? I might not always be a dom, but for you, I can make it work.” 
“So…” you find it hard to even speak because he’s so right about his assessment that it hurts. “So… you’re more of a switch?”
“I can be. Generally, I’m not about strict roles in the bedroom, but if you’re into that sort of thing, I can see what it’s about.” 
“Tell me more about being a switch?”
“Don’t want to give you too many details about myself, these calls are about you, Angel.” 
You let out a groan.
“Be patient,” he reminds you. “And tell me, are you as wet right now as I am hard?”
This time, the sound you release is really more of a moan, and it makes Hyuck chuckle darkly.
“I’ll take that as a yes… are you gonna touch yourself after this? Gonna do all the work I can’t do, not yet, anyway.” 
“Maybe…”
“I like the thought of that, two horny people, whacking off together after a phone call, different rooms, but we’ll be on each other’s minds.” 
You get the suspicion that Hyuck is going to be on your mind for a whole lot longer than simply your upcoming bean-flicking session. 
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Thursday
“I’m here, I’m here! What’s the emergency!” Mark asks, out of breath, his cheeks flushed from the cold outside and having just run across campus.
“It’s not an emergency, don’t worry, just sit!” you tell him, pushing out a chair.
“Angel, you texted me, and I quote,” he pulls out his phone, “911, meet me at our spot in the library asap.”
“Well, I wanted you to come,” you shrug.
“God, you’re as much of a drama queen as Hyuck is,” Mark sighs, taking his seat across from you. 
“Speaking of Hyuck…” you grin, leaning forward and clasping your hands together, “your roommate decided to go full Ghostie this year.”
“Wait, he’s not doing Ghost Face for Halloween-”
“No, I mean, like, stalker phone call Johnny Ghostie,” you clarify. 
“What?” Mark’s expression is blank, and he looks completely unimpressed.
“Basically, he called me on Sunday, did this whole thing about doing a Black Christmas character or some shit- he’s been calling me from a burner phone with a voice modulator-”
“Jesus Christ,” Mark sighs, covering his eyes with his hand. 
“The moral of the story is, Halloween night, I’m calling dibs on your room.”
“My room?” Mark peaks out at you through his fingers.
“Your roommate has to get laid. Actually, scratch that, I have to get laid… with your roommate.” 
“This is so-” Mark groans. “I thought we were over this stalker Halloween thing to get girls. Don’t any of us have respect or standards anymore?”
“You’re frat boys, Mark, so the answer on that one is going to be a no from me.”
“Why are you even into this?” Mark questions further. “Like- what’s so sexy about any of this?”
“I mean… it shows Hyuck cares?”
“He cares enough to get a burner phone and a voice modulator and call you and be creepy and horny? Wow, what a huge chivalrous act of love.” 
You narrow your eyes at Mark Lee. “I’m not enjoying your sarcasm, mister.”
“And I’m not enjoying this,” Mark retorts, pointing between the two of you. “Fuck, fine, have my room on Halloween.”
“Last thing though, Hyuck can’t know that I know that he’s the one calling me.” 
“Wait, so this isn’t a bit? He’s committed to trying to trick you?” Mark leans back in his chair, his expression getting even more bleak. “The two of you are crazier than I thought.” 
As you open your mouth to respond, your phone rings, and you look down to see Hyuck’s burner ‘No Caller ID.’
“Heya, buddy,” you answer, bringing your finger to your lips to shush Mark.
“Watcha up to?”
“Just in the library with a friend.”
Hyuck’s tone shifts. “Which friend?”
“Mark, you probably know him.”
“Of course I know fucking Mark. Why’s he with you?” 
“Just chatting… why? You jealous?”
“No.”
“Yes.”
“No!”
“Yes!” You let out a laugh. “Buddy, settle down, we both know I’m not into Mark Lee, we’ve talked about this before.”
“We’ve never talked about Mark,” Hyuck responds, and you realize, you may have just betrayed that you know who he is-
“I mean, he wasn’t on my list with Jaehyun, or Jeno, or Jaemin-” you quickly cover your blunder, and Hyuck releases an annoyed sound.
“I get it, I get it,” he groans. “Fine, finish up your time with fucking Mark, then.” 
“Don’t be salty about this,” you warn.
“Yeah, whatever.” 
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Friday
It’s the final day before Halloween, and if there’s one thing you know for sure, it’s that Hyuck is working. The SVT and NCT frats are the primary workers at the on-campus bar, Skeets, so they have a deal that NCT works the Friday before Halloween, and SVT works the Saturday. 
Knowing these details, you’re also aware that it’s possible Hyuck won’t be home till three am, so you’re a little shocked when you get a call at one.
“Hi, Angel.”
“If it isn’t my favorite stalker,” you grin, pausing your horror film- in all truth, you’d decided to watch Black Christmas, and now you can see why Hyuck told you not to bother, he hasn’t nailed the deranged attitude of the main villain at all. 
“Watcha doin?”
“Not much, you?”
“Not much,” he responds.
“Are you sure?” you counter. “Cuz something tells me maybe you’re working right now… did you get a break, buddy?”
“I’m not working,” he insists. 
“Sure you’re not,” you laugh, dropping the line of questioning. “Hey, tell me again why you chose Billy from Black Christmas?” 
“Seriously?” Hyuck lets out a sigh. “I guess I just wanted… an excuse to be horny on the phone for you, even if it’s just for a week.”
He sounds defeated, and you’re not shocked. Halloween is the busiest night of the year at the bar Hyuck works at, if anything, you’re surprised he even had a moment to dip outside and call you.
“You’re cute,” you muse. “You sound tired, so I’ll let you go, but uh… I’ll see you tomorrow, yeah?”
“You will.”
“And how will I know it’s you?” 
“You just will, goodnight, Angel.” 
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Saturday 
You’ve just arrived at the frat party, and already, you’re on the hunt for Hyuck.
At this point, you’re tired of the games. You feel closer to Hyuck, in some odd, sinister sort of way- closer than you ever have before. And you’re tired of hiding it, tired of this weird cat and mouse- you just want to have a conversation with him, to get everything out into the open so you can truly discuss your feelings.
You find him by the beer pong table. He’s in a full denim fit, and you can’t put your finger on who he is as you approach.
“Hey, Hyuck,” you greet, tucking into his side so he can hear you over the music. “Nice Canadian Tuxedo.”
“Do you know who I am?” he asks.
“Uh…” You look at him blankly. “Are you talking about your denim costume? Or the way you’ve been calling me all week?”
Hyuck stares at you in shock. “Uh…” he clears his throat. “I’m Ken… you know, from the Barbie movie.” 
“Right…” you trail off, wondering if he’s going to touch on the Black Christmas side of things.
“Also… what do you mean? About me calling you all week?”
“Hyuck,” you sigh. “Please don’t try to avoid this. Just be honest. It’s you. I know it’s you.” 
He looks at you, and you can see the cogs turning in his mind.
“You told me you’d reveal yourself tonight,” you continue. “I know I kind of just threw you under the bus, maybe I ruined your master plan or something, but I’m tired of pretending I don’t know it’s one of my best friends who’s been calling me all week being horny.”
“Are you mad at me?” he asks, voice lowering. His eyes search yours, as if he’s trying to get a read on you.
“Hyuck,” you let out a laugh, “I’m not mad at all, but I think we should go to your room and talk this out a little, don’t you?”
“I guess that’s a good idea,” he acquiesces. 
“Then let’s go.” You grab his hand, lacing your fingers so you can drag him to the stairs that lead to the second floor. You don’t say anything as you move, you’re on a mission, and what you need to discuss with him is better said alone than in a crowd of horny Halloween partygoers.
You make it to the privacy of his room, and you shut the door behind you. “So?”
“So?” Hyuck moves through the space, and you notice him heading for his bong.
“Hey, don’t do that,” you sigh.
“Don’t do what?” he asks.
“You don’t need to get high to have this conversation.”
“I don’t?”
“No.” You shake your head. “I don’t want you to be high when we do this.” 
Hyuck lets out another deep breath. “This isn’t how I planned things.”
“Yeah, I guess not,” you admit, watching him take a seat on his bed. “How did you see tonight panning out?” 
“I suppose I figured I could get some drinks in, liquid courage, that sort of thing. And then, maybe I’d reveal myself at the end of the night or something.”
“Are you really so scared of me that you need to be drinking to confess how you feel?” you ask, melting a little. You approach Hyuck, sitting carefully on the bed next to him while he faces clear inner turmoil.
“I’m not afraid,” he states, but you can tell from the tone of his voice that there’s something else going on. “I just… You told me you only want a man who can commit, a guy who only has eyes for you- and, I do, but… we both know my playboy track record, and I guess… I just worry about hurting you.”
“Do you want to hurt me?” you question, tilting your head as you try to understand him.
“No, never.”
“Do you think you’re at the point where you could settle down a little? I’m not trying to get you to stop partying, I just mean… committing to one girl, is that something you think you’re capable of?”
“If it’s you, then yeah… I think so,” he nods, finally meeting your eyes.
He looks so vulnerable, and it’s very different from how you usually view your mischievous friend.
“Hyuck,” you whisper, unable to help the way your hand raises to cup his cheek. “I’m willing to give this a shot if you are. If there’s something real here, and it’s not just you being a horny, dumb frat boy.”
“Okay, rude,” Hyuck laughs, showing you a glimmer of the him that you know and love, “It’s more than being horny… but… in all honesty, seeing you in this fucking faerie costume has me all hot and bothered.”
“Yeah?” You lean closer, grinning. Your lips ghost over his when you say your next words, “So what are you gonna do about it?”
Hyuck sucks in a sharp breath, his pupils dilating- you’re so close to him, and you can make out all the pretty shades of brown in his irises. Gosh, he really is a pretty frat boy. 
His hands find your hips, and he tugs your body closer. You can feel him breathing, his gaze darting between your own and your mouth. You watch his tongue dip out to wet his lips, and he swallows thickly.
“Fuck it,” he mutters, finally smashing his lips to your own. 
It’s not gentle by any means, but it’s not necessarily aggressive either- one word to describe this kiss, is: desperate. He’s so eager, and you kind of love it, love the way he tugs you flush to his own body, one hand moving to cup your cheek- his tongue glides against your own and you stifle a moan, shifting in his embrace so you can wrap your arms around his neck.
It feels so good to be pressed against him like this- you’re actually kind of shocked at how good it feels. And his hands, exploring your body, keeping you close, fingers digging into your hips-
Hyuck is everywhere, devouring you like you’re his last meal.
“Oh,” you whisper, when Hyuck’s mouth moves to your neck. “By the way, I called dibs on your room with Mark, he won’t be bothering us.”
Your dumb frat boy pulls away from your throat, a grin on his face. “You really knew it was me all along, huh?”
“You’re not exactly subtle, buddy,” you laugh.
Hyuck shakes his head, reaching to lock the door before his hands ensnare you again. He pushes his body against yours, urging you to move backward until your calves hit the bed. Before pushing you down, he removes your faerie costume wings, and only once the more delicate part of your costume is discarded, does he shove you onto his mattress.
“Hyuck,” you giggle, looking up at him with starry eyes.
“You look so good like this,” Hyuck muses, tugging his denim ‘Ken’ style vest off to reveal a body hardened from Frat mandated work out brother time. He’s not too big, not too built- Hyuck still has some pudge on him, but you kind of love it. You love that it’s not a full six pack and bulging biceps- you can imagine that when this is all done, he’ll be lovely to cuddle with.
In fact, you’re not sure it would matter how muscled Hyuck is. Sure, it helps that he’s physically fit and hot, but- at this point in your friendship, you’re attracted to him for so much more than his body.
No man makes you laugh like him. No man has spent the time that he has to understand you and make you feel comfortable with him knowing you, the true you, the you that you don’t get to show many others.
Hyuck is just… he’s good for you, and he always has been. That goodness has so far been a friend capacity sort of thing, but you’re excited about the new development in your relationship. You think there’s true potential with him, and it makes you dizzy as you stare up at one of your best friends.
“I kind of want to eat you out, Angel,” Hyuck admits, one hand finding your thigh and pushing your short dress even higher up  your leg.
“Funny, I kind of want to suck you off,” you grin, lifting one foot out of your shoe to tease your toes across the front of his jeans.
“So… sixty-nine?” Hyuck asks, gently tracing his fingers across your exposed skin, setting tingles of pleasure off to erupt and skitter through your form.
“That would work, but… I guess… I kind of want to lay with my head lolled off the side of the bed, your cock in my mouth, and your fingers pinching at my nipples while I work my own clit at the same time.”
“Jesus,” Hyuck breathes, swallowing thickly as he looks up at you. “How could I say no to that?” 
“Then, when I’m close to cumming, you can eat me out, get me there, then fuck me stupid for your own release.”
“It’s funny,” Hyuck chuckles, “Here I thought I was the horny one calling you and trying to be a creep, but you’re the one with the dirty mouth and the great ideas.”
“Yeah, your whole Black Christmas thing really wasn’t the best idea I’ve ever heard,” you tease.
“How many times do I have to admit it was a shitty plan but I just wanted to get close to you?”
“At least once more.”
“Fine. Now flip around, loll your head off my bed, let me put my cock down your throat and pinch your nipples while you toy with your cute pussy.”
“How do you know my pussy is cute?” you ask. “You haven't even seen it yet.”
“I’ve been imagining, baby, and as a film major, my imagination is pretty fucking good.”
You giggle, getting into position for Hyuck. He stands near your head as you loll it off the side of the bed, and you get a good view of his bulge straining in his jeans.
“You’re excited,” you muse, cupping him through the denim.
“Who wouldn’t be?” he laughs, undoing his button, then the zipper. “Fuck, you look so good laid out like this.”
“Yeah?” You pull the top of your dress down, releasing your boobs.
“Fuuuuuck,” Hyuck groans, pausing his motions on his jeans to reach down and massage your newly exposed breast. “I knew your tits would be perfect.”
You moan at the feeling of his warm hands. His fingers pinch at your nipple and your moan turns into a whine. “Feels good.”
“You feel good,” he counters.
“Get your cock out,” you instruct, feeling impatient.
“Start rubbing your pussy,” Hyuck retorts with a laugh.
“Yes, sir,” you respond teasingly, reaching one of your hands down to your thighs. You slip it under your dress, deciding on taking your panties off alltogether. 
Hyuck continues to massage you as you pull off your thong. 
You can’t help yourself, you toss it at him, and Hyuck lets go of your breast in favour of catching it. “Fuck, these are cute,” he says, admiring your panties.
“I knew I’d be getting laid.”
His tone shifts to the darker, more annoyed side of things. “Yeah?”
“And don’t get all angsty, I knew I’d be fucking you tonight.” 
“That’s what I like to hear,” Hyuck grins, putting your panties in his pocket before he undoes his jeans, shifting them down his thighs.
The fucker isn’t wearing underwear, and you get a good view of his cock for the first time.
“Fuck, dude, you weren’t lying when you said you were thick,” you muse, licking your lips.
“I’d never lie to you about my cock,” he laughs.
You slip one hand between your thighs, stroking your wet core- it’s crazy how turned on you are from this, but part of you thinks this has been building for a while- for a week, actually.
Hyuck strokes his cock, looking down at you. “Ready for this?” he asks.
“Put it in my mouth,” you command, opening wide for him.
“If I’m going to deep, push my thigh,” he tells you as he slips his cock past your lips.
You moan a sound of affirmation around him, immediately beginning to suck on his tip, getting used to his size before you take more.
Hyuck is surprisingly gentle with how much he’s allowing you to take. If you hadn’t been pacing yourself, you’re sure he’d be pacing you of his own accord. 
One of his hands finds your breast again, pinching the nipple and sending jitters of pleasure down to your throbbing core.
You groan louder around him, sucking more into your mouth as you increase the pressure on your clit.
“This is so fucking hot,” Hyuck moans, thrusting gently into your mouth so you can lay flat and still, allowing him to do most of the work while you rub your pussy deliciously.
You can only let out a sound of affirmation as he uses your mouth.
With your eyes closed, you can focus fully on the feeling of pleasure that’s building inside of you. 
When you’d imagined fucking Hyuck for the first time, this hadn’t necessarily been a position at the forefront of your thoughts- but when he’d suggested eating you out, you’d realized this is exactly what you’d wanted. 
You want to give back to him, want to show him how much you’ve appreciated him taking the leap and telling you how he feels- even if it was in some weird, dumb frat boy, phone call kind of way. 
The way he’s pinching your thighs is actually delicious- and then, you hear him spit, and you feel the cool liquid hit your chest. This time, when he rubs his thumb over your nipple, he spreads his spit across your skin, making it even more intense.
“Part of me just wants to cum on these perfect tits,” he admits.
You make a very clear sound of disagreement, and Hyuck pulls his cock out of your mouth. You’d been salivating so much that as he moves away, your own saliva drips back down onto your face from his length. You swallow thickly, finding your voice. “Need you to cum inside of me.”
“Fuuuuck,” Hyuck groans, pinching your nipple even harder. “You and your creampie kink.”
He slips his cock back into your mouth, and you greedily eat him up.
Then he leans further over your body, his fingers joining yours on your core. “You’re so fucking wet,” he muses, pushing your hand out of your way so he can rub your clit, gently fucking your face as he does so.
It’s a shallow face fucking, as he’s bent over your laid down body to access your core, but you don’t mind.
Your eyes are still closed, and you’re enjoying every sensation, bringing your free hands up to your breasts to massage them and pinch your own nipples.
“You look so sexy, want you to cum so bad so I can fuck you stupid,” he tells you, rubbing your clit even harder.
You rut your hips up toward his hand, a non verbal motion that tells him you’re close.
God, it’s like he’s been in your pants before- he knows exactly how to stroke and massage your clit-
“And you’re still sucking me off so good-” he continues. “And grabbing at your tits too, you’re my insatiable little Angel, aren’t you?”
You moan deeply around his cock, and Hyuck fucks you a little harder, the tip of his cock hitting the back of your throat. You gag around him, feeling tears in your eyes.
“Shit, sorry, Angel, fuck, that just felt so good- can I do it again? Can I fuck your throat again?”
You make a sound of affirmation, shocked at how your body had reacted to his cock being fully inside of your mouth. A tingle of excitement had run through you, your nipples getting intensely sensitive, your core throbbing-
Hyuck does it again, hitting the back of your throat, and the same sensation happens. You can feel yourself getting desperately close to the edge, and you hardly have to do anything. Other than pinching your own nipples, Hyuck is the one taking care of you, and you kind of love it.
“I can tell you’re close, Angel,” Hyuck chuckles. “Fuck, gonna cum from me fucking your face and rubbing your clit, right?”
You moan desperately, wiggling your hips. Hyuck reads your cue, rubbing your clit even harder.
Now, you can’t help but pull off his cock, pushing his thigh to give you a bit of space.
“You good?” he asks, motions pausing.
“Yeah,” you tell him, swallowing thickly as you grab his cock to stroke him off. “Just keep- fuck, keep rubbing me like that, I’m so close-”
“Fuck this,” Hyuck mutters, and all of the sudden, he’s pulling away.
You let out a whine- only for him to spin you on his bed. He sinks to his knees, drawing your core to the edge where your head had just been, then he dives in, his lips immediately suctioning around your clit.
Two fingers push into your aching core and you whimper desperately, grabbing at his hair to keep him on your pussy as he works you closer and closer-
“Hyuck-” you cry out, muscles clenching-
One more slurp on your clit has you topping over the edge, entire body electrified by the orgasm surging through you.
You slap a hand over your mouth, trying to muffle your sounds as he works you through your high. He doesn’t quit, doesn’t pull away- he sucks your clit through your entire high, until your thighs are shaking on his shoulders and you’re on the verge of tears.
“Okay-” you whimper, pushing at his head. “Sensitive-”
Hyuck finally lets up. You open your eyes to watch him stand, pulling his fingers from your core and sliding them into his own mouth.
“You taste just like Halloween candy, baby,” he muses, eyes clouded with lust.
“I wanna taste,” you whisper.
Hyuck pushes his jeans completely off, and then he gets on top of you, smashing his lips to your own. The flavour of your pussy is hot on his tongue, and it invades your senses, driving you wild as you kiss him deeper, threading your fingers through his hair.
His cock nudges between your pussy lips as he grinds down against you, rocking his hips.
“Fuck me,” you tell him, moving your mouth to suck on his ear lobe.
“Shit,” Hyuck groans, shivering from the sensation of your tongue on his ear. “Want you naked first.”
He pulls away just long enough to tug your dress up and over your head, then he returns to his spot, his cock rutting against your core once more.
The two of you have been friends forever. Hyuck knows you have an IUD, he’d been there for you when you’d gotten it last year, when you’d just wanted to stay in bed and rot for a few days. There’s no need to discuss birth control or safety- all there’s left to do, is have his thick cock fill you in ways you’ve been wanting all week.
Hyuck adjusts, grabbing his base so he can push his tip into your throbbing hole.
“Fuck,” you whimper in his ear, clutching his shoulders as he pushes an inch into you.
“You good?” he asks, breath hot on your throat.
“So good,” you respond, locking your legs around his hips.
He pushes deeper into your pussy, and your core welcomes him in, walls stretching to accommodate his thick cock. 
Hyuck bottoms out, and you both groan deeply. He forces his lips onto your own again, and it’s a clash of teeth and tongues.
It’s animalistic in the best sort of way- like you’ve both been caged up for as long as you’ve known each other, and you’re finally letting your beasts out to do the most primal thing imaginable.
There are no thoughts in your mind as Hyuck begins to fuck you, there’s only you, him, and this intense feeling of pleasure.
You feel so connected to him- missionary isn’t always the most fun position, but with Hyuck, it feels right. It feels like this was meant to be your first time together, face to face, lip locked, breathing each other in, moaning desperately as he takes you as his own.
“Fuck,” Hyuck groans, gently biting on your lip. “Your pussy is taking me so fucking well- first your mouth, now this- how do you expect me to last long?”
“I don’t,” you giggle. “You made me cum so hard on your tongue, I’m about ready to be filled with your cum and then lay here.”
“I’m gonna cuddle the shit out of you after this.”
“You better,” you grin.
Hyuck smiles against your lips, kissing you again as he fucks you even harder.
The stretch of his girthy cock is unlike anything else- and it feels like heaven as he pounds you into his mattress.
“Rub your clit?” he suggests.
“I can’t- I can’t cum again,” you whimper, still sensitive from your first orgasm.
“I’ll have to train you to cum more after this,” he promises.
You can only grin, drawing his lips to your own again as he uses you to find the ends of his own pleasure.
His whimpering sounds are like music to your ears- fuck, Hyuck is too hot to even imagine. Had this guy really been one of your best friends for this long without you ever exploiting this?
You’re so fucking happy he’d called you and been weird all week- it was the perfect foreplay, and now, you’re completely enraptured by him.
“Shit,” Hyuck groans. 
“You close, baby?” you ask.
“Fuck, call me baby again.”
“Baby,” you whimper, “your cock feels so good in my tight pussy.”
Hyuck moans even louder. 
“Just like that,” you encourage him, tightening your legs on his hips. “Keep doing that- right there-” The tip of his cock is hitting the perfect spots inside of you, and you’re gasping from the feeling, burrowing your face in his throat and panting against his skin.
“Shit, Angel-”
“Cum for me, baby, cum in my pussy,” you urge him.
That’s all it takes for him to explode, letting out a deep groan as he releases deep inside your core, coating your walls with him.
His thrusts falter, his breathing laboured, entire body shivering-
You stroke the back of his head, cooing in his ear, helping him through it until he’s finished, coming to a stop ontop of you and breathing heavily.
“Good boy,” you tease.
Hyuck lets out a deep chuckle, and it turns into a sigh. “You’re going to be the death of me.”
“And you’d love that.”
“I would,” he admits. “Okay, fuck, I’m gonna pull out, gonna grab some tissues and sweat pants- we can head to the bathroom down the hall and hopefully clean up a little, then we’re gonna cuddle.”
“Sounds like a plan to me,” you grin, laying there as he groans and gets off of you, following through with his intentions.
Soon, cum is being wiped from your pussy and you’re being helped into sweatpants.
The two of you exit his room, and you’re very pleased to see that most of the party is downstairs, leaving his floor pretty vacant. 
You make your way to the bathroom with him, clutching his hand.
Once there, you both clean up, and you listen to Hyuck splash water on his face while you pee, making sure all his cum is out of you.
The two of you make it back to his room, collapsing into bed. He pulls you to his chest, cuddling you close.
“Before I pass out… how did you know it was me on the phone?” he asks.
“Out of everyone in the frat, you idolize Johnny the most. It wasn’t a reach that you’d recreate his Ghostie thing last year. On top of that, you’re a film major, you know horror movies better than anyone else. And, you’re a horny fucker, which is something I’ve always loved about you- I just… I needed you to make a move, which you never really did, until now. It just… made sense that it was you. The way we talk to each other, I could tell it was you from the very first call.”
“Here I was, thinking I was all suave and shit.”
“You were very suave, baby,” you grin, pressing a kiss to the underside of his jaw.
“Happy Halloween, Angel.”
You giggle. “Happy Halloween.” 
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☀️ mlist + an. thank you for reading! find my other nct frat fics (including Ghostie) HERE. I made this meme for this fic because it's so them.
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🔮 preview. “So, I’m gonna finger fuck you stupid,” he explains, pushing his digits back into you. “And then, I’m going to apply pressure, right here-” Hyuck’s hand smooths across your abdomen, even the slightest push makes you feel his fingers deep in your core, and you release a whine of pleasure. “Yeah, you’re going to love this,” he confirms with a grin. 
cw/ tw. Unprotected sex, oral ( f receiving), pussy worship, fingering, multiple reader orgasms, overstim, squirting, dirty talk, praise, Hyuck holds the reader down by her abdomen, etc… I petnames: (y/n’s) Angel. (his) Baby. 
👹 rating. 18+ explicit I wc. 2.4k I teaser wc. 220
🌙 staring. Haechan x afab!reader
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bonus
You love Hyuck, you do- but sometimes (especially when watching movies) he has this tendency to… well, never shut up.
“Okay so, coming up, when the alien pops out of his body, the director didn’t tell anyone this was going to happen, so when Sigourney Weaver and the others react, it’s genuine shock and surprise-”
You love his facts too, you do… but… sometimes, they get a bit much.
“Baby,” you coo, cuddling closer to your boyfriend, “Can we just… watch the movie?”
“We are watching the movie.”
“I mean… God, I’m going to sound like a bitch, but can we get through like… ten minutes without a fun fact?”
“But… my fun facts are fun.”
“They are, baby, they are,” you assure him, patting his chest, “I just…” you sigh, “ten minutes?”
“I can think of a distraction for my mouth,” Hyuck grins.
Your pussy immediately flutters, picking up on what he’s saying. “Yeah? Don’t you want to watch the movie?”
“I’ve seen it a billion times.” His hand rubs your shoulder and he nuzzles against your cheek, breath hot on your skin. “Come on, let me eat out your pretty pussy. I’ve been wanting to overstim you for a hot minute- I think I could get three or four out of you while you’re watching.”
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hungharrington · 5 months ago
Text
i feel it coming, babe
technically the sequel to a little less conversation this is yet another piece for girlies (gn) with bad sex experiences <3 remember sometimes it takes more than once to get it right honeys :D 12k words, fem!reader, MDNI THIS ENTIRE BLOG IS 18+
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Okay so, you’ll admit, you might be beginning to get it. 
A smidge. A pinch. 
It’s just— well, how are you not supposed to understand it? How can you not get the thrill and fervour over sex when it’s with Steve and he looks like that. All golden tan skin and hazel eyes that look at you like he might eat you whole and— and he treats you like… 
Like there was never anything wrong with you.
Even after that balmy afternoon spent in his sheets, with his mouth between your thighs, pulling noises out of you that you’d never even heard before, he’s been so perfectly so. Not pushy, yet still that lingering hunger you can see simmering beneath his skin, hidden in the flex of his fingers. 
Part of you almost worries, a little niggle burrowed in the back of your mind, that it was all a fluke.
That nothing had really changed all that much between you— that the next time things start getting heated, the chemistry won’t be there. Or it’ll be weird and off, or you will be, and really, you were probably lucky to have that first time with Steve so good but you can’t expect that again. 
But then… there is one difference at least, to combat all your swarming thoughts a fluke. The kisses. 
When you think of Steve Harrington and his playboy past, you can’t say, of the words tossed around in the high school corridor, that clingy is something that comes to mind. Not that he had been described as anything other than charming… but you don’t mind pleasant surprise of coming to learn this about Steve. 
It means kisses all the time. 
On your hands, scattered across your knuckles, when he’s dropping you home from a date. Kisses pressed to your hair and forehead, when he’s scooching past you, when he’s saying hello and his hands are busy, when you sit between his legs on the sofa. 
He kisses your shoulders, up along the curve of your neck just to see if it’ll still make you laugh a bit when he finds that ticklish spot beneath your ear. Adores sweeping back your hair to plant a kiss against your skin with the sweetest little ‘mwah!’ so quiet you don’t think you’re meant to hear it. 
And your lips… you don’t think they’ve ever been so kiss-bitten in your life.
One night with Steve can leave them blooming with colour, all the blood beneath them rushing with pleasure as he kisses your mouth soft — sometimes hard, sometimes sweet, always maddeningly. 
He greets you with a kiss always, one hand curled gently around your chin to tilt it up perfectly. And always after, a grin spreads across his face, brown eyes crinkling and pink lips barely restrained his joy. 
“Hi, sweetheart.” He’ll always says, or some variation.
Which, yeah, that’s new too. Sweetheart. You haven’t quite figured out how to not melt to a gloopy gooey mess when he says it just yet. It’s a damn good thing that your boyfriend is a gentleman and he politely doesn’t comment when you fluster, only gets the smallest hint of a smirk. 
For all your past worries about not kissing him for fear of leading him on, you hadn’t realise quite how much you were depriving yourself of affection. Steve’s certainly turning you greedy— and he’s all too happy to sate your appetite for it. 
Today, it’s drizzly. The colour of the sky is a bright ashen grey, enough to warrant a headache and inspire a day inside. In the distance, you can see the thunder clouds rolling in and bringing a blanket of shadow with them. 
They reach overhead much quicker than you’re expecting and you’re barely a block out from Steve's house before the rain starts coming down. 
Try as you might, raincoat tucked tight around you, you’re still a bit drenched by the time you make it to Steve’s doorstep. One freezing finger presses the door bell. A chime sounds inside. 
You rub your hands together to try warm them as you wait, cringing at the whisk of wind that twirls your hair up and about. Your hands shoot up and you nervously flatten the wild strands back down— right as Steve opens the door.
He’s got a towel around his neck, one hand scrubbing it into his wet hair. Judging from his ruffled t-shirt — put on in a rush and exposing his tummy — he’s just got out the shower. He looks surprised but happy to see you.
“Sweetheart, hi-hoooooly shit,” He sticks his head out the door, eyes wide as he takes in the weather. His hair flicks as he turns back to you. “Did you walk the whole way from your house? In the rain?” 
Your shoulders form a meek shrug. Before you can speak, his hands are on your shoulders, tugging you inside, across the doorway. He kicks it shut behind you. 
“Christ, honey, what’d you do that for?” His hands fret a little bit, rubbing at your shoulders. He gently picks a piece of hair that’s stuck to your cheek, placing it behind your ear. 
“I mean,” You start, a little confused. Your hands tighten on your overnight bag, wringing the handle tightly. He knew you were coming over, right? “I thought we— on the phone, we made a plan?” 
Steve breathes a soft laugh. “Yeah, we’ve got plans. But I would’ve come got you instead of making you walk through the rain. C’mon, what  kind of boyfriend do you think I am?” 
His use of the word boyfriend still makes you glow. You smile, nope, you grin all cheesy — and it doesn’t help at all when Steve’s hands trail down your jacket to hold your own. He wiggles the handles of your bag out from your frozen fingers and drops it behind him gently. His hands dart back to cover yours.
“Dear god, I think you’re about two minutes from losing a finger.” His eyebrows have scrunched together in worry. He brings your hands up to his face, cupped in his own, and blows hot air on them. It tickles but you can’t stop smiling. 
He pulls them back, rubbing his thumbs over your icy fingers and peers down at them. Your heart coos at his concern. 
“What’s the verdict doctor?” You jest, making your voice all breathy and dramatic. “Am I gonna make it?” 
Steve frowns harder at your hands, his face serious when he tilts it back up to face you. “I’m afraid we’re gonna have to amputate.” 
You gasp dramatically. 
Steve grins. He runs over your hands once more, one of his fingers creeping up your wrist, trying to find a ticklish spot. You squeal a little, trying to pull back but he holds your hands firm in his own. He continues his serious voice. 
“Ma’am, I’m sorry but it’s your whole arm. We’re gonna have to chop it right off.” 
His fingers are half way up your sleeve, making it bunch up and you’re laughing so much it’s warming you up much faster than him blowing on your hands. You push his hand away playfully and Steve relents, putting his hands up in surrender. 
“Okay, okay, you got me.” He grins. “I’m not a real doctor.”
You laugh again, reaching up to tuck back your hair that’s fallen forward in your squirming. “Uh huh, a real doofus is what you are.” 
Steve rolls his eyes endearingly, his hands reaching out to snag your waist this time. He tugs you closer. Your feet stumble and when you press against his chest, you’re delighted to find he’s very, very warm. You're definitely soaking his shirt a bit with your coat but if Steve cares, he doesn't say.
“Just realised I didn’t properly say hello,” He murmurs, a little quieter than before. 
And when one of his hands moves up and curls beneath your jaw, holding your chin gently, you know what’s coming. If you weren’t already holding your breath in anticipation, he probably would’ve stolen it with his kiss.
His plush lips are soft and with a loving little hum, he kisses you.
All the lights around you look a little dewey and heart-shaped when Steve pulls back — though it may be just your own lovey-dovey eyes. You sigh without meaning to, all honeyed and sweet, and Steve softens immeasurably at the sound. 
“Okay,” He shifts his hands back down to your hands, rubbing them lightly. “I’m not kidding, even your lips feel frozen. D’ya wanna take a quick shower just to warm up?” 
Something about you flushes at his suggestion— a runaway thought about getting in his shower, it getting steamier and steamier, especially with Steve slipping in to join you halfway. You clear your throat to push away the thought and focus. 
Your hair is wetter than you’d expected, sticking to your neck in cold tendrils. A shiver zips down your spine. All your scandalous thoughts aside, it sounds like a pretty good idea. 
“Yeah,” you nod gingerly. “Yeah, okay, it wouldn’t mind the warm up.” 
Steve steps back, bending down to scoop up your bag deftly. He holds it for you as you unbutton your coat as quick as you can with your frozen fingers, shivering in relief as you shed the drenched layer. Droplets of rain spray in the rustle. Your coat finds a home on a peg beside the door.
It’s comforting how easy it is to follow Steve up the stairs, drinking in his cosy attire from behind— gone are his usual tight fitting jeans. Instead, he’s donned what you guess is his pyjamas; a plain ringer tee and red, plaid, and long flannelette pants. His feet are warmed by fluffy socks that have reindeer prancing about the fabric. A flash of his tan ankle makes you stumble for a moment.
Steve trades your overnight bag, with a smile and a promise to keep it safe, for a pillowy white towel, soft as ever. He leads you into the bathroom off his bedroom, depositing your bag on his bed along the way. 
His fingers find the switch for the heated towel rail and while you fold the towel over it neatly, heart humming in content at being taken care of, Steve starts the shower. He sticks one hand in, holding it under the spray and grimacing at the cold— until the chill slips away beneath the steamy hot water. 
“Alright,” Steve says, pulling his hand back. He gives it a little shake, droplets splattering on the tiles. “All ready for my best girl.“ 
He gives a cheesy and charismatic smile as he wipes his hand dry and if you were brave enough, you might give him a little thank you kiss for it. You aren’t just yet — but when he moves to slip by you, you halt him with a soft hand on his torso. 
“Thank you.” you say, quieter than you intend. You push on the balls of your feet and plant a quick peck onto his cheek. 
Pink blooms beneath where your lips touch. Steve looks like he melts a bit, lashes fluttering as he sucks in a sharp inhale. Turns out neither of you are getting any closer to getting used to the affection. It’s sweet to know it goes both ways. 
“I’m gonna—“ Steve breathes, his hand drifting up, his index finger pointed out to the door. “I’ll be nearby if you need anything. Or if you fall. Just like, uh, yell- or scream. Or— you know what, you’ve taken a shower before.” 
He stumbles out towards the exit, pulling two awkward thumbs-up over his shoulders. The door swings shut behind him, closing with a quiet click. 
Your clothes pool to the ground, a trail leading towards the shower as you move with haste. Though you’re sure the Harrington's won’t notice, you don’t want to waste the hot water. 
The heat soothes you— swathes of relief washing down your body, picking up every piece of ice in your skin and sending it swirling down the drain. It doesn’t take too long to get back to warm and toasty. 
Still, when your eye catches on it, you can’t resist. Steve has a body wash that smells heavenly. You pick it up, flick back the cap, and take a whiff — just to check it’s the one that’s been infiltrating your very dreams. Steve, even on a daily basis, manages to smell so good it drives you close to delirium. 
You’re more than happy to steal it for yourself today. You take another sniff of the bottle in your grasp, just to inhale it with a sigh. The sweater he let you borrow the other week has the exact same smell; a musky perfumed scent, with a hint of bergamot. 
You dollop some in your hand and lather it all over. Properly cleansed and throughly warmed up, you let the final suds whirlpool down the drain before shutting the tap off and stepping out. The fluffy porcelain coloured towel is toasty in your hands as you pluck it off the rail.  A sigh in appreciation comes out as you dry off, twisting it around yourself. 
It’s as you stand there, refreshed and smelling of Steve, in just a towel, do you realise you’ve forgotten to bring in clothes to change into. 
On his bed, Steve sits idle — because what else is Steve supposed to do when you’re in his shower? When you’re naked in his shower. Naked in his shower and probably using his soap and lathering it up down your body and on your boobs and— oh my god, soapy boobs and— 
Steve’s pulls himself from his thoughts with a rapid shake of his head, just in time for the bathroom door to rattle open and your shining face to peek through. 
You look a little flushed, maybe from the heat, or from the lack of clothing. Steve can see your bare shoulder, his eyes tracking a drop as it rolls down your collarbone. None of this helps his runaway thoughts. 
He stands up without thought. Then he realises how strange he might look, like a dog standing to attention. 
“Feeling boober?” Steve says, like an idiot. Heat floods his face as he realises his flub. “BETTER! Are you feeling better?” 
He’s thankful that you at least laugh, a pretty sound that you tuck behind your hand. You have the nerve to wiggle your eyebrows at him, a far cry from the confidence he’s come to expect from you in the past. Steve can’t deny— he adores it. 
“What are you thinking about?” 
“God,” Steve groans. He shoves his face into his hands and turns around, his back to you. His words are muffled over his shoulder. “Don’t even ask me that right now.” 
Another laugh titters out of you. Steve can’t resist peering over his shoulder. The steam curls out through the gap of the door, leaving dew on your skin. You look ethereal, like a dewy angel from a dream.
“Alright,” you relent playfully. You’re fighting a smile and losing, badly. Steve yearns. “Can you please pass me my bag?” 
This next time the door opens again and you step out, there’s less tantalising skin to tease Steve and his wandering mind. There’s still a flash of wet skin, the curve between your shoulder and neck. Steve wants to lick it, kiss it, devour it til the skin beneath is riddled with the bruises of a lover. 
For a moment, you’re simply admired — Steve’s eyes on you, adoring and soft, as you creep out the bathroom like you don’t want to make too much noise. 
You notice in your absence Steve has cajoled a little tray table into his room, tucked up at the foot of his bed. Atop it sits a chunky television, antennae sticking up in perfectly straight lines. The ones at home on yours are slightly warped from all the readjusting. 
“Hey,” Steve says. He’s on the bed this time, and while he doesn’t get up this time, he sits up straighter as you emerge from the bathroom. You put your bag down, abandoning it by the door and try to quell your nerves. 
Steve, unless he’s somehow obtained x-ray vision and hadn’t told you, can’t see the nice matching set you’ve got beneath your comfy clothes. 
He won’t see it— unless this night goes where you think it might, where you hope it might, but even still, the thought manages to make you fluster. 
“Hi.” You say back, voice closer to a whisper. 
The bed sinks beneath your weight as you climb on to situate yourself beside Steve. He’s all soft corners and crinkled eyes, his arm raised up in an instant for you to tuck yourself under. Even warmer in his arms, your heart delights when he gives you a little squeeze.
“Alright, movie time!” The television at the foot of the bed pulls Steve away from you. He unwinds his arm enough to crawl down the bed. The grey ringer shirt he has one slips forward a bit and at your angle, you can catch more than a sliver of his tan tummy. 
Without thinking, your thighs press together tightly as heat flares between them. You can trace the alluring wiry trail of hair with your eyes until it disappears into his pyjama pants, continuing out of sight. A part of your wants. 
You want to see where it goes, want to curl your fingers into his waistband and work it downwards, you want find out if the moles go all the way down his thighs like you hope they do.
Hunger sinks its teeth into your skin; a hunger you’ve been getting more and more familiar with. 
“Okay, pervert,” Steve’s cheeky remark shakes you from your thoughts and you start to stammer. He’s clearly caught you staring. “Can’t say I blame you for ogling—“ 
“I was not—“  
“— because I have been told before that I have a very distracting and attractive behind.” 
You sputter and despite your best efforts, a little laugh splutters through as well because well, yeah, he’s not wrong — but your brain is stuck on repeat with something else entirely. 
Tummy, tummy, tummy, the hair on his tummy, the hair leading down into his pants.   
“Yeah, uh huh, okay, Harrington,” You slump back against the pillows with a dramatic sigh, clearly teasing. “If you say so.” 
The television flickers to life right as Steve lunges back towards you with all the energy of a labrador puppy. He squishes down onto you so quickly that you actually squeal in surprise. 
“Oh, I’m back to just Harrington now?” He pouts, squeezing even closer to you. You’re laughing, flattened beneath him in a way that you can’t even wiggle your arms out. He’s draped across you dramatically. You trust him completely. 
“It’s your name, isn’t it?” 
“I thought my name was,” He leans closer and kisses your neck. “Boyfriend. Or baby. Orrrrrr,” 
He kisses up your neck and onto your cheek. His hazel eyes are bright, crinkled in his grin so much that his lashes kiss in the corner. He kisses your nose. “Handsome.” 
“Mmmhm,” you revel in the never-ending affection, glowing from the inside with happiness. You wiggle your arms to make Steve push himself up, just enough to free them from being smothered against your chest. Free to roam, your hands find the sides of his face. 
“What about…” You begin. Steve watches you closely, evidently gleeful from the touchiness of your hands. He pushes into your palm, turning to kiss it fast. “My snookums.” 
You exaggerate the word, your voice going all sugary to butter it up. You watch as emotions ripple across Steve’s face— the twitch in his nose as he tries not to outright frown at you. How polite he is. 
It’s only as he catches the grin spreading across your face, wicked and just loving watching him squirm at the terrible pet-name, does he catch on to your jest. A sigh of relief and a chuckle whooshes out of him at once. 
“Oh, thank God you’re joking.” He drops all his weight into your waiting hands, grinning when you let his face flops forward into your chest. His words are completely muffled as he speaks into your chest. “That could’ve been serious grounds for a breakup.”
You huff a laugh and nudge him up best you can. “Yeah, alright, drama queen. Your movie is starting.” 
Steve’s head pops up, his head twisting back towards the television like he had forgotten about its existence until you had mentioned it. 
“Oh true,” He says. He pushes up off you to sit himself up, shuffling back so instead you can lean on him. Re-situating his arms around you, Steve hums absentmindedly as he throws a leg over you, tangling it with yours. Thoroughly intertwined, you both sink back into the pillows. 
The credits roll up and off the screen, the first five minutes of the film whisked away while you and Steve were settling down. Now, the opening scene begins, the grainy picture on the screen buzzing as it plays the VHS. 
You get approximately two minutes of silence, your and Steve’s heads turned towards the television, until distraction kicks in.
You do your best to ignore it as his head turns towards you, your eyes still focused on the screen, but all your attention runs to Steve. He nudges a little closer to you, his nose pressing into your temple and right as you realise he’s smelling you, he says— 
“Did you use my body wash?” 
You freeze. 
“I— was I not supposed to?” Your voice comes out a bit weaker than intended. 
Steve lets out a soft noise, somewhere between a sigh and a groan, only worrying you further. He starts to shift around a bit, retracting his leg back an inch, his nose no longer nudging close along your temple; all actions that contrast his assuring words. 
“No, no, no, it’s fine, you’re fine—“ Despite his words, he shifts again. His hips shuffle backward, one of his hands moving down subtlety as he can to fuss with his pyjama pants. 
It takes about two more seconds for you to get it — clued in by Steve’s suddenly scarlet cheeks and his embarrassed expression. 
Your mouth drops open a bit unwittingly. 
“Are you—“ 
“Yes.” Steve grates out. He abandons fixing the growing tent in his pants to cover his face with his hands, rolling slightly away from you. You can feel the heat of his embarrassment radiating off him. His words are slightly muffled from behind his palms. 
“I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean— I didn’t even realise that was something that got me going until, like, right this second.”  
It’s adorable that he’s so flustered and that he’s apologising. You’ve never had that happen before. You’ve never had someone so conscious of how it might seem— never someone like Steve who doesn’t seem to come with any expectations. 
A thread of relief jolts through you. It reaffirms what you already know; anything you want to do will be done on your terms. 
And with his eyes covered up, if you glance down at his pants for good hard look…. well, that’s between you and the universe.
“Steve,” your fingers curl around one of his wrists, tugging it gently. You try to coax his face out of hiding, your smile somewhere between giggly and endeared. “It’s— it’s okay, really, you don’t have to apologise. I— I mean, I’m honestly flattered.” 
Steve deflates a bit, torn between relief and his still persistent concern. He had made a committed plan that he wouldn’t make any moves until you initiated it first and yet, here he was, like every other male in Hawkins. Popping a boner the moment you settle down to innocently cuddle. God, he’s the worst!
A pout forms on his lips. He wishes he could rewind the last 2 minutes and spend the whole movie holding his breath. 
“What is it about the body wash?” 
Your question takes him by surprise, given the way his other hand drops off from covering his face. He blinks up at you, cheeks still with a hint of cherry red. 
“I- I dunno.” He admits. “Like I said I didn’t even realise that…” 
Steve’s cheeks flush with colour again. He clears his throat. “That would have that effect on me.” 
Something within you preens, a fire stoked by his honest admission; a zing shooting down your spine because you don’t think you will ever get used to hearing how Steve wants you.
“Well,” you begin, the word more timid than you hoped it would be. You clear your throat and cast a glance at the television, feigning casualness. “If I was the cause…” 
You let your hand come up, brushing across his warm tummy. Look up at him through your lashes, hoping, praying it looks sexier than you’re feeling— which is somewhere between flustered and foolish.
Still, Steve’s throat bobs. You watch his eyes dart down to your lingering hand, an inch or so above his waistband. 
“Maybe, I can be the remedy.” 
A tiny groan scrapes out of Steve’s throat, like he would love nothing more. Even so, he pins you with a sincere look, hazel eyes burning into yours. 
“You don’t have to do that.” He assures you. “I mean—“ He coughs awkwardly. “It will go away, uh, in time.” 
“I’m aware how it works, Steve.” 
“Oh, are you?” Steve jokes— laughing when you wallop him in the chest. He grabs your hand, stopping your assault mid-motion with a cheeky smile. “Okay! Okay, I deserved that.” 
He releases your hand and you let it fall onto his chest. Nerves prickle beneath your skin but with them is something new, something you’ve only gained since your time with Steve; anticipation. 
Steeling your anxiety, you let your hand trail down his chest slowly— enough time that he could halt you before you embarrassed yourself. But he doesn’t. Steve watches you closely, his chest rising and falling a bit harder as your hand nears his waistband. 
This time, you don’t stop. You let your fingers brush over the tented fabric hesitantly, torn between wanting to watch your hand or to see his face. As confidently as you can, you palm across his bulge— feeling the heat of his hard length thickening up under your hand. 
Steve groans lowly. 
You look up at him as you rub him softly, taking in his large pupils and pink lips. He’s watching you too, his eyes darting between your face and the hand on his cock. 
“Is this okay?” You check. The movie crackles on in the background, idle noise. Steve nods quickly, a curl of his hair falling down onto his forehead. 
“Yeah,” He says, voice breathier than it was a minute ago. You try out a harder rub, beginning to feel out the shape of his cock, and you curl your fingers around it. Steve groans again, a little bit louder, his eyelashes fluttering. 
Still, he composes himself enough to ask, “Is this okay for you?” 
“Hmmm,” you draw out the noise, the smile on your face giving away your faux-thinking. You squeeze him again, right as you murmur, “Maybe make that noise again and I’ll see.” 
But any noise he makes is captured in your mouth as he surges forward, one of his hands curling up under your jaw. His fingers slide into your hair and his lips are sweet and soft, hungry for more against your own. 
You can’t help but melt under his kisses, body relaxing into the sheets as you let yourself be kissed breathlessly. A warmth pools deep within your chest, drooling down into your stomach. Anticipations sinks in. Your thighs rub together. 
Losing the nerve and the focus, your hand slips up to cup at Steve’s hip— but if he cares, he doesn’t show it. Instead, he takes it as a cue to press forward, leaning his weight onto on his elbows to hold his weight as he shifts up, his lips never leaving yours. 
It’s one smooth motion, the way he slips a leg between your own, his body held up and hovering above yours. He kisses, slow and languid. You ache. Your lips haven’t ever been so kissed before. 
It isn’t until his thigh shifts up and presses just right do you notice it properly — unable to swallow your shallow gasp, lips halting against Steve’s as a bolt of pleasure blooms deep in your gut. Your eyelashes flutter, a shadow of embarrassment threatening your cheeks. 
“S’okay?” Steve whispers, not relenting any of his closeness. His lips brush yours. 
You nod gently, a quiet hum sounding in your throat. You’re not entirely sure you can form words right now. Not when it feels like your heartbeat is everywhere — when you can feel the heat between your legs, the tightness of your nipples as they peak, the undeniable thrum of lust building within you. 
And certainly not when you can feel Steve, his hardness pressed up against your thigh, his pupils bigger than usual. They’re ringed in that hazel you love— a colour that might be your new favourite ever. 
Fuck, you’re in deep. What an incredibly sappy thought to have while you’re getting hot and bothered. Did Steve think that way about you too? Think about the colour of your eyes while he kissed your mouth?
“I…” You finally find your voice and Steve pulls back a couple inches so he can see you properly. His eyes dart over your face adoringly, his lips rosy red from all the kisses and quirked into a smile. He looks at you as if you’re everything. 
“I want to…” You say, unable to find the words to finish your sentence. Embarrassment winds up inside you, ready to spring free but Steve seems uncaring at your hesitance. 
“You wanna what?” 
He kisses the corner of your mouth with a hum. Endlessly patient. Somehow your stomach churns a little faster at that. Nerves stand up on their end, a thousand uneasy prickles over your body. 
“I want to.” You say this time, firmer. “Do more.” 
It still sounds too mousy coming out and you see a flicker of something on Steve’s face. 
“If you do, I mean.” You add on quickly. “I want to if you do.”
Steve huffs a quiet laugh, like the idea of checking in with him was a bit absurd. His gaze roams over your face slowly, taking his fine time just looking at you. He looks as though he doesn’t quite know what to say. 
He lands on, “You don’t seem sure.” 
Your heart flip-flops at the wrinkle between his eyebrows, his concern evident. He fixes you with a serious, sincere look.
You nod, your hair scrunching up against the pillow as you do. “I am. I just…” 
You sink your teeth into your bottom lip and worry it, thinking of how to put this. You’ve said it before, you’ve told him how it was in the past, how you hadn’t enjoyed it and yet…
Feeling too squirmish under Steve’s intense stare, you avert your eyes to look at the ceiling and swallow the knot in your throat. 
Your voice comes out a whisper. “I want to try but I’m not sure— I just I can’t promise that I’ll- that y’know, I—” 
Eyes crushing closed, you try to seize your bubbling anxiety before it seizes you. This is Steve. You trust him wholly. Just a moment ago you were thinking about how much you like him and—
“Hey,” Steve murmurs lowly, nudging his nose into yours. Your eyes open. He smiles softly when he says, “I have no interest in doing something you don’t enjoy.” 
The protest flounders up inside you before you can stop it. “But—“ 
“So,” He cuts you off pointedly. “If we give it a go and you don’t like it, that’s okay. We can just figure out what you do enjoy, okay?“
For a long moment, you just stare up at him.  
“Yeah? So we can just try and if it… If I…” You flounder for words, sounding like you think it must be too good to be true. You stare up at the ceiling as you try to verbalise the biggest hurdle, the final niggling worry.
You peer back up at Steve’s face. “You… you wouldn’t be disappointed if we started but then I wanted to stop?” 
Some emotion shutters across Steve’s face, a flash of devastation. You mistake it for annoyance. 
An unwelcome hitch suddenly twists in your stomach. “I'm sorry, I know that you— we already- last time, we talked about this and I should know—“ 
“Stop it,” Steve interrupts with a soft shake of his head. “Stop doing that, it’s fine to feel unsure or- or to not know what you like. It takes time and experience to figure what you do like.” 
His hand shifts up, brushing the hair back from your forehead. He leaves it there, the warmth of his hand a comfort. His fingers curl lightly into your hair. 
“That’s all I wanna do,” He breathes softly, his lips tugging up at the corners. He looks unbearably earnest, his brown eyes shining. “Just wanna do what you like. Wanna figure out what you like.” 
He leans down and kisses your cheek. Then your jaw. Then that soft sensitive spot under your ear. You squirm but this time for all the right reasons. 
“Y’want me to do that?” He murmurs. 
You’re breathing a little heavier and when Steve nips at your earlobe sparingly, just a love bite and a flash of teeth, your breath catches loudly. Desire surges through you, hot and straight between your legs. 
It takes another moment to remember he’s asked you a question. 
“Yeah…” you breathe. You wanna nod but you don’t want him to stop what he’s doing. Your throat bobs as you swallow. “I wanna do that. Wanna— wanna learn what you like too.” 
Steve hums, a pleased sound, and he kisses languidly at your neck. His lips, soft and plush, scrape against your skin in a way that gathers heat low in your gut. Your hips tilt forward an inch, moving against his thigh almost imperceptibly.
“Yeah?” 
The way he says it, the way the word rolls out of his mouth, all husky and low, makes your nipples peak. 
“We get to learn together, hm?” He kisses your neck again. The soft press of his tongue and the gentle scrape of his teeth have you gripping the sheets, almost white knuckled. 
Suddenly, you can’t stand to not be touching him. Your hands fly from the sheets, fingers curling around his midriff, feeling at the warm skin. His t-shirt is warmed by him. You slip your hands beneath it as he bites where your shoulder meets your neck, soft enough to make you sigh. 
Your hand finds skin. Finally, finally, you get your hands on that damned happy trail that’s been all but haunting your daydreams for the past months. 
As Steve kisses down your neck, you trace the line of hair with your finger slowly. Your thumb strokes the coarse hair all the way down to his waistband, gentle and hungry all at once— trying to commit it all to memory. Unwittingly, Steve shivers at the motion. 
“Fuck,” his breath shudders against your neck. He tucks his face in closer, fighting the urge to press his body up against yours and grind. You feel the twitch in his hips anyway. “You drive me crazy.” 
“Me too,” you gasp when he pulls off your neck, blowing cool air across the heated skin he’s been dedicating himself to. You wonder if a bruise will come up, beautiful and kiss-bitten. You clench a little at the thought, the heat between your thighs only increasing. 
A mark from him— a mark of a lover. 
You want to give one to him too. Managing to remember you can do things with your hands, other than just pawing at his back, you shift them up to curl into his hair. Tugging gently, you coax his face up enough so you can nose alone the length of his neck. 
Steve’s panting and you can hear his breath catch when you start planting kiss after kiss on his skin— dragging your bottom lip across those glorious moles you adore so much. 
Without meaning to, you press him back and Steve lets himself roll back onto the mattress, his hands tugging you closer. You take the invitation and struggle for a moment to get up over his hips, one leg too tangled in the blanket on the bed. 
“My leg,” you laugh weakly, having to retract a hand from his hair to free it. When you do, you settle down, straddling his hips, and try not to lose your confidence. Still, you can’t help apologising. “Sorry.” 
Steve peers up at you lovingly, frowning a little when you apologise. “What? No, it’s fine.” 
He shifts one hand and grabs the loose blanket beside you and then hefts it up, throwing it as far as he can off the bed with a grunt. It lands somewhere behind you with a soft noise. 
“Blanket’s fault.” He says, brown eyes back on you. “Freaking cockblock. I got rid of him, babe, don’t worry.” 
You snort a little, leaning down to kiss his perfect lips.
“My hero.” You murmur sarcastically against them. 
“Ooh, say that again, baby,” Steve moans exaggeratedly, throwing his head back onto the pillow dramatic, his eyes screwed shit.  
You laugh, unknowingly relaxing a little further into him. You swat at his chest. 
“Steve.” 
“Oh!” He moans again, all girlish and fake, and twists his head in the other direction. “I love it when you say my name like I’m an idiot!” 
You gasp, but it’s still hidden in your laughter as you hit his chest again, for a different reason this time. 
“Don’t say that!” You say genuinely. “I don’t think you’re an idiot.” 
Steve drops the act, his eyes creasing open to shine up at you. He’s glowing beneath you, cheeks a bit flushed and grinning like he’s a little bit in love with you. You think he might be. 
“No, you don’t.” He agrees. He soothes his hands up and down your sides. “Only idiot is that idiot who let you think there was anything wrong with you.” 
“Ugh,” you scoff. “Please don’t bring him up ever again— least of all when we’re in bed.” 
Steve squeezes your sides gently and smiles up at you like he hasn’t heard a word you’ve said. “Noted.” 
And then you kiss him. 
For a couple of minutes it’s this easy, lazy making out that you love. Though, it’s like there’s a furnace turning up beneath you both, the intensity getting more feverish with every kiss. When Steve finally pulls back from you, panting, he looks as flustered as you feel. 
“Can I take these off?” 
His fingers are curled into the waistband of your pyjama pants. You nod before you can overthink it, letting him shimmy them down your thighs and settling yourself down on the comforter. Steve sits up a bit beside you, to tug them down your legs and off your ankles. 
Steve’s focus is on his hands but your gaze is stuck on his face— and you watch as he tosses your pants behind him carelessly. His eyes fix on your cunt, hidden away behind your lacy panties. 
“Woah,” he murmurs softly, eyes flicking up to meet yours. He leans down on his elbows, one arm on either side of your hips and pings the elastic on the cutest lingerie you own. “These are very pretty.” 
He sounds like he means it, his voice tinged with lust. It gives you a moment of confidence. 
“Yeah?” You ask. You slide your hands up, pushing your shirt up gingerly as you to reveal the matching bra to him.
Even from your distance, you can see how Steve’s pupils dilate, blowing way out. “You like them?” 
Steve let’s out a pained noise as his head flops over, his nose pressed into your hipbone. One of his hands reaches down between his legs, adjusting himself in his pants. 
He looks back up at you, hair a bit mussed, and pouts.
“That’s not fair! That’s so not fair. Did you plan this? Blindside me by wearing my body wash and then surprise me with matching lingerie?” 
The way he says it, all faux accusatory, makes you grin. He sits up long enough to tug his own shirt off, discarding it behind him, and crawls up the bed to kiss you. You catch a glint of the single chain he wears around his neck before he's kissing you.
“You—” Kiss. “look—” Kiss. “so—” Kiss. “fuckin’—” Kiss. “hot.” 
He pulls back, taking a moment to just gaze at you before he leans back further, scuttling down the sheets til he’s paused between above your legs. 
Something within you flares hotly at the memory of the last time he was in the position. You feel a warm pulse in your cunt, a trickle of slick coating your panties. Your hips shift an inch— half nerves, half anticipation.
Steve kisses you over your panties, like last time, the first chaste and on your clit. The next is a little lower, a little slower, his lips parting further and his tongue pressing languidly against your core. You squirm, breathing a little heavier. 
His hands grips gently at your hips, moving up to smooth over your thighs. He lets his fingers slip forward, the tips of them pressing lightly into your inner thighs. He pulls them further apart and ruins you a bit when he kisses sweet along the skin of your thigh. 
“I’m pretty sure we could just do this every time and I’d be happy,” Steve says, but it’s paired a chuckle fringed with nerves.
He looks up at you and you realise it is a bit of nervousness— like he’s worried you might find it embarrassing just how much he likes it. 
Your blood hums in response, warmer, all of it rushing down your body. You don’t know quite what to say to that, so you say, “Yeah?” 
Steve smiles, that flash of nervousness already gone or cleverly hidden. He gives your thighs a gentle squeeze with his large hands and rubs his cheek up against one of them. 
“Are you kidding me? I think I’d do anything you wanted just to hear those noises you made again.” 
Your lips part slightly in surprise. He’s always so startlingly honest and forward with his feelings but, somehow, it still manages takes you by surprise— that he’s not at all shy about how much he likes you. 
Scrambling for an appropriately sexy response, you come up blank and instead decide to press your thighs together. Between them, Steve’s cheeks squish forward, his lips forming an absurdly funny pout. 
“Hey!” He exclaims.
It comes out a little muffled with his face squidged up and the mixture of both his face and voice makes you laugh. You release him, legs falling apart, feeling the breath of his laugh again your skin. 
“Kidding, you can warm my ears anytime you want, honey,” He’s still grinning up at you when he says it. Part of you know he’s being completely serious. 
Your gut burns low. You resist the urge to squirm, feeling the heat chase down to your cunt. It’s hard to relax when he manages to make you feel so keyed up. 
“Stop getting distracted.” You jest. 
“You stop getting distracted,” He jibes back, but his focus drifts back down, his eyes darkening with a fiery lust. 
He rubs the skin of your thighs again, soothingly, and lets one hand creep forward til his knuckles are brushing up against the edge of your panties. His thumb presses forward, into the wet spot you’ve soaked through. 
Even so, he still asks, “How we doin’? Still feeling good?” 
You nod quickly, then think verbal confirmation is probably far better. “Yeah, still good.” 
Realising you’re staring up at the ceiling, hard, you flick your eyes down between your legs. Even if it doesn’t feel particularly sexy, you still have to say it. “Thank you for checking.” 
“Of course,” Steve says. He pinches the elastic of your panties lightly, his eyebrows raising in question. “Gonna take these off, yeah? Then you let me know if you don’t like anything I’m doing.” 
Despite your history, a huge part of you wants to say yeah, fat chance of that because yeah, you’re beginning to wonder if your boyfriend has some genuinely magical fingers. And a magical mouth. And wait, does that mean his co—
The thought gets ripped away as you feel your panties get tugged downwards and you quickly lift your hips to help. Though he’s seen you bare before, it’s impossible to stop the flush that rolls through your body, hot and tinged with embarrassment. You want to close your legs but Steve between them prevents that from happening. 
“Here,” Steve hums, reaching a hand up to scoop up your own from the bedsheets.
He gives it a quick kiss on the palm and then moves it up to land in his hair. “You let me know how m’doing, okay?” 
Your fingers curl into his brunette locks automatically and grip tightly when he leans in, his hot tongue dipping between your folds. Pleasure drips into your body as he begins to lick softly, his skilled tongue finding your bundle of nerves quickly and twisting around it. 
Heat builds. You close your eyes and let yourself enjoy it, soft pants escaping your lips as Steve kisses and suckles where you’re most sensitive, til there’s a moan lacing every breath. 
Fuck, he’s so good at this. How is he so good at this? 
One of his hands on your thighs starts to knead gently as the other one slides forward, til his thumb is rested at your slicked entrance. He hasn’t stopped sucking on your clit but your sudden sharp inhale catches his attention. 
“Sorry,” you say instinctively. 
“It’s fine,” Steve soothes, his thumb circling around your soaked hole, which clenches in response.
He kisses your thigh. Desire burns you up from within, your fingers twisting a little tighter in his hair, giving away your nerves. 
“We’re just figuring out what you like, yeah?” He muses, his words half comfort, half lust. 
You nod but don’t speak, trying to trust him enough to let his words calm you. Steve gives you a moment to breathe before he resumes the work with his mouth, his hot mouth suckling at your clit once again. 
He waits until you’re back to those quiet, shy lusty little noises before he tries again, prodding softly at your entrance in warning before he gently sinks his finger in. You gasp again, hands tightening in his hair — as something molten hot shoots right up your spine. 
“Steve,” you cry out his name. It feels... good, which feels like a fucking miracle in itself. He begins to fuck the finger in and out slowly, still lapping at your clit. A heat that you’ve only felt once before starts to nip at your skin, bleeding into each nerve. 
Your panting grows heavier and without meaning to, you clench down around him, desperate for a little more. 
“See, you like that one, huh?” Steve mumbles against you, his dark eyes flashing up to take in your face contorted in pleasure. His cock thickens unbearably in his pants, too confined. You nod, hair scrunching up against the pillow. 
“Yea—yes,” You say, feeling your hips rock down an inch. You want more of that. 
Steve obliges, more than willingly, adding another finger. It slides in with little resistance. It’s hotter than anything else to get to see you like this, pliant and horny, rocking your hips against his mouth. 
To get to make you like this— sucking on your cute little clit and fucking his fingers in, hearing the adorable squelch of your wetness. You’re so turned on it makes his brain melt a bit, the way you’re leaking all over his fingers. Steve’s cock throbs desperately— but he wants to make sure you’re stretched out enough to take him. If you want that, that is.
He eases one more finger in, keeping a careful watch on your face to see how you take it. You keen beautifully, back arching slightly as he curls his fingers and begins to stretch you out. 
You pant deliriously, these tiny whimpers beginning to slip out your throat. Steve wishes he could see your face, the cute scrunch of your brows as you moan— but happily settles for latching his lips back onto your cunt. 
Three fingers feel even better than two, you find, as you grip the sheets tightly— you’re throbbing but in this torturous way, balancing on the edge of too much and not enough. There’s a hint of pain lingering at the back, but not enough to distract you from the pleasure. 
It takes you by surprise then, when the pleasure suddenly tapers off, your eyes creasing up open and head popping up. You realise Steve is slowly stopping, his slick fingers slipping out of you as he sits back up a bit. 
“Why’d you stop?” You say without thinking.
Flushing, you quickly follow it up. “Every— everything okay?” 
God, you sound wiped. Your chest is still heaving and your clit twitches, missing the stimulation of your boyfriend’s mouth. The air smells honeyed and perfumed with sex. 
“You tell me,” Steve murmurs sweetly, his lips grazing the inside of your knee in an almost kiss. “You said you wanted to do more. Is this enough more?” 
Your heart nearly bursts in the pure consideration. God, he’s so fucking nice to you. So unbothered to take things your pace, so attuned to making you feel good. You know that you could happily do this more for the rest of the night. 
But it’s not what you had in mind — and the longer you wait, the more you’re beginning to crave getting Steve to a similar state you’re in. Moaning, flushed in the face, his hands buried in your hair. 
“We can do more,” You say, your voice dropping back into that shy whisper. 
Steve watches you closely, his hand still absentmindedly rubbing at your thigh dotingly. 
You clear your throat and speak a little louder. “I wanna do more.” 
“Yeah?” Steve says, his grin growing. He huffs and shakes his head a little, dropping your gaze. 
“I mean, believe me, even if we just—“ He gestures vaguely between your thighs. “— did this all night? Night well spent.” 
You know he means it, especially with his hungry gaze that dips back down, his tongue slipping out to lick his bottom lip briefly.
You press up onto one elbow and reach out one hand, hooking your finger over the one single chain he wears. There’s a ring looped on it, the one you gave him as a promise, and just the sight of it makes you glow inside. 
You tug the chain forward lightly and him with it, Steve shifting up the bed til you’re nearly face to face, his frame hovering above you. The beds dips beneath his hands as they crawl up to either side of your waist, his intense eyes locking onto your face. He might be holding his breath. 
Swallowing, you move up and press your lips to his in a slow, soft kiss. It turns deeper, hotter, heavier. You swipe your tongue into his mouth and Steve lets out a pitiful noise in response, pressing his mouth against yours desperately. 
Drawing back with a little gasp, you open your eyes and repeat your earlier sentiment, “I want to do more.” 
Steve watches you, his exhale shaking slightly. You dot a kiss on his cheek quick, pulling back to meet his eyes.
“I want to do more with you.” 
A kiss on his other cheek, just as fast. Pink blooms beneath where your lips touch.
“I want to do more, right now.” 
Steve smiles splits into a grin, his eyes shining as he chuckles, the sound doused in fondness. “Okay, okay, I got the message,” He murmurs. 
Pushing back to sit on his heels, he turns and rummages around in his bedside table for a moment. You lay back on the pillows and try catch your breath, knowing it’s only a matter of time before it’s stolen once more. 
When Steve pulls back, there’s a row of condoms in one hand and a bottle of lube in the other. He tears off one of the condoms and throws the rest of them behind him without thought.
You can’t help but tilt your head up, neck straining a bit, not wanting to look away for a moment as Steve raises onto his knees and pushes his boxers down. His cock kicks up, released from its confines with a soft slap against his happy trail. 
Unwittingly, your mouth waters a bit.
And look, you’ve seen a dick before, okay? It’s pretty hard to sleep with someone and not see one, unless you have your eyes closed the entire time. 
But Steve’s cock is… pretty. 
Pink and aching, the head of it slick with a bit of pre-cum— that you realise he’s gotten from being worked up whilst eating you out. You gush a little at the dizzying thought. 
You want to touch it — or put it in your mouth so you can drool over it, can suck on it, can feel the heady weight of it on your tongue. Or, as you realise what the ache of your cunt means, you really, really want him to fuck you with it. 
Instinct drives your thighs apart, beckoning him between them. Steve’s eyes darken as he notes the motion, moving a bit more hastily to tear the condom packet open. He rolls it down his length, quick and precise. 
“Okay,” Steve breathes, reaching out for the lube and drizzling a generous amount into his palm. He keeps the bottle within reach as he slicks it over his heavy cock, a beautiful groan pushing out his throat as he does. 
“Okay,” He says again, a little breathier than before. Shuffling forward, Steve lines himself up with your core gently before halting. His eyes dart up to your face.
“You let me know if there’s anything you don’t like or you wanna stop.” 
You nod, his ardent care only serving to fuel your lust. You’ll coo over it in the afterglow— right now you want to be around him, want to feel him pulsing inside you, want to feel full where you’re suddenly feeling so, so empty. 
Steve shifts forward, beginning to sink into you with a low groan of pleasure. 
The first few seconds are bliss — Steve’s done his job well at warming you up and something hungry awakens with a burst of pleasure as you take the first few inches.
Then, something a little more uncomfortable joins the mix. 
You try not to squirm, disappointment inflating as your pleasure is robbed by the twinges of pain. It’s not unbearable but you’re enjoying yourself less. Steve moves in another inch and then discomfort abruptly becomes pain.
You inhale sharply, teeth gritted together, and Steve stops moving in an instant. 
“Woah, y’okay?” 
You nod, even as your eyes slip shut. Half of this is a mental game, you know that—you’ll never loosen up if you don’t try to relax. 
“Yeah,” you say quietly, voice a bit tight. “Just— just gimme a minute.” 
Steve murmurs a quiet sure but after a moment he says, “Wait, lemme—“ and moves forward so he’s hovering above you instead of sitting back, your faces much closer now. The jostling doesn’t help but having Steve closer does. 
He keeps his hips as still as he can and kisses your cheek. You don’t open your eyes just yet, willing yourself desperately to relax, to enjoy it. You take a deep breath.
“We can stop,” Steve whispers. 
You shake your head. Creasing your eyes open, you move your hands up so you can twine them around Steve’s neck in almost a hug. Steve leans down and kisses your cheek again, then steals a kiss from your lips. 
“I wanna—“ You gasp, frustration mounting at how the pain doesn’t seem to be subsiding. You sound miserable as you cling to him closer. “I want this to work.” 
“It’s okay if it doesn’t,” Steve responds, his arm shifting up so he can trace his thumb over your cheekbone. 
The movement moves his hips forward another inch, pain spiking so severely that you wince aloud, your face pinched in discomfort. That’s all it takes for Steve to shift back, easing out of you gently. You’re devastated at the relief that follows. 
“Okay, I’m not doing that if it hurts you—“ 
“It wasn’t,” You lie fruitlessly. You know Steve heard your wince—but maybe if you lie, you can trick your body. 
Hands coming up to cover your face, you scrunch your eyes up, annoyed at how they sting with tears so quickly. Your voice is all wobbly when you say, “I’m sorry. I'm sorry, I really want this to work, Steve.” 
Steve aches at your words, moving in to tug at your hands. His voice is soft, sweet.
“Hey, hey, I know that, sweetheart.” 
You don’t let him in, hands still shielding your face. He kisses your knuckles instead, his thumbs swiping up and down your wrists comfortingly. 
He waits a moment before he continues, voice buttery soft, “I know you want this. It’s not your fault if your body only likes it some ways and not others. You can’t control that and I know that.”  
You take one deep breath and it shudders as you inhale, sounding far too teary for Steve’s liking. He tugs at your wrists again, relieved when you let him pull them away tentatively. You aren’t crying but you look damn near close. 
“What’s got you so upset, huh?” Steve coos, nuzzling in close, his nose brushing against yours.
He releases your wrists to cup your face, tender and soft, his brows knit together in his concern. “You know I don’t mind- I told you that I don’t care what we do, just that you’re enjoying it.” 
You take another shaky inhale, a little more stable than the last. Steve can feel how you move to press back against him, nuzzling him back. You take another moment before you reply. 
“I just-“ You start, voice still tight. “It’s so stupid. I wanted it— I wanted to enjoy it. And that doesn’t even seem to matter to my body. It doesn’t even change how it feels and that sucks. Like I can’t control this part of me.” 
Steve listens dutifully, waiting til you finish and your eyes find him.
“Well,” He starts, averting his eyes somewhat sheepishly. “Take everything I say with a grain of salt, okay? But… your body doesn’t hurt just to mess with you, right?” 
He waits a moment for your tentative nod. “Right. So, it’s not for nothing. It’s trying to tell you something and- and ignoring that isn’t having control. You have to listen and work with your body — it’s your partner in all this.” 
“I thought you were my partner,” you whisper, the small smile on your lips giving away your joke. Steve faux rolls his eyes and kisses the tip of your nose. 
“I’m your other partner.” He smiles. Then sighs, casting his gaze above your head for a moment before meeting your eyes again. “Am I making any sense?” 
Wiggling one hand up, you place it on his cheek tenderly and begin to whisper. “You’re making a lot of sense actually.” 
Steve sighs, leaning his face into the palm of your hand with a huff. “Well, that’s a relief.” 
For a minute, there’s only quiet. Your emotions come down from their swell and you take the time to admire the beautiful boy above you, who seems to be doing just the same to you. 
After a moment of time, you clear your throat and say, “Can we try again?” 
Steve seems to think on it for a moment before he nods, turning to kiss your palm. 
“This is gonna make me sound like a total guy,” He says, words muffled against your hand. His brown eyes flash up to yours, darting between them. “But maybe we should try from the back. Like, different angle and all.” 
You snort, unable to hold it in because it does sound like such a guy thing to say. Even so, you give a little nod, eager to try something else. You don’t even want to acknowledge the mounting dread around disappointing Steve — even with all his assurances, you can’t help but feel as though this has been one gigantic let down. 
As Steve shifts back, you become suddenly aware of the lubed up slick spot on your thigh where Steve's cock was resting and scrunch your nose with a laugh. Peering down, you drag a finger through the wetness left on it. 
“Ew,” you laugh. 
“Ew?” Steve echoes incredulously. “Alright, that’s it.” His sits up and back, his hands darting down lightning fast, manoeuvring you all of sudden. He hooks his hands under your hips and lifts, twisting so you’re suddenly splayed on your front. 
You’re giggling all the while, drunk on the feeling of your boyfriend’s hands as they trail up your sides. The hair of his tanned scrapes against your back as he leans in, mouthing along your shoulder towards your neck. 
You find your knees and prop yourself up on them, lifting your hips off the sheets of Steve’s bed. At the angle he’s draped himself over you, it’s a perfect line up of his cock with your cunt, the head of it teasing your entrance when you push back. 
You're relieved that your emotional moment hadn't killed the mood altogether. That same hot, pulsating want from before tears through you and Steve takes a stuttering breath, the slightest moan in his throat. You feel his forehead press against your shoulder blade, as though he’s trying to compose himself. 
“You-“ He says, the word catching in his throat. As if unable to help himself, his hips grind forward, pushing his aching cock between your slick folds. You make pitiful, keening noises in response, a thread of pleasure run through the two of you. 
“You ready?” Steve asks shakily. He relents some of his closeness to grab the lube, giving another generous drizzle into his palm to slather over himself. 
“Please,” you whisper, pushing yourself back an inch. 
This time when Steve pushes himself in, the bliss stretches out, lasting more than just the first couple seconds. You make a high, breathy sigh of a noise and your head drops forward. 
Steve pauses, his breathing on the ragged side, and checks in. “Still feeling okay?” 
You nod feverishly, a whine building up in your throat that threatens to escape if Steve doesn’t move. Or maybe if he does move. You can’t tell — can’t tell anything other than how good it feels to have him inside you, hot and throbbing. 
“Yes,” you manage to gasp out. “Yeah, keeping going, please,” 
Steve grunts, complying in an instant, sinking his cock further in. Something inside you tightens up again— but it’s not nearly as noticeable as last time. Still, Steve recognises it and he slows for a moment. 
“I’m okay,” you assure breathily, face nearly pressed into the bed. You need him to keep moving. 
And he does; his cock sinks in another inch right as his hand creeps around your hip, searching for something blindly. You barely get one moment of confusion before his calloused fingers drag through the slick on your cunt and move up, pushing against your clit purposefully. 
You moan, loud and high. The friction of your clit is enough to make your thighs spread a little wider and your hips move back before you even realise what you’re doing, almost the rest of Steve’s cock sinking inside you. It feels good but something else pinches up inside you.
Steve moans, muffling the sound into your skin as he hides his face in your neck. 
You pant, suddenly dreading how you can feel the prick of pain on the fringes of your pleasure if Steve stretches you too far. "Don't- n-not too much," You warn gently, the words all breathy, still swathed in your pleasure. "I—uh— fuck, I don't think I can take it all."
You feel Steve's nod against the back of your neck, accompanied by a low hum in his throat.
“Y-yeah, okay,” He stammers. His hips roll forward and he follows your word, not quite pushing all the way in. "F-Fuck."
His breath is hot on your neck and the sudden urge for his kiss is nearly overwhelming. Even not facing him, the way Steve drapes himself around you, gentle even with how he grinds his hips into yours, feels intimate. Your cunt gives a soft squelch. 
“Oh fuck,” Steve gasps, stilling completely — the feeling of you wrapped around him is enough to nearly push him to the edge. He screws his eyes closed and whimpers, trying to keep himself together. 
“Y’okay?” You whisper breathily after a couple of moments, forehead pressed into the sheets. Your hips move just a little bit, shifting in a little circle so his cock slides out an inch, his fingertips grazing across your clit again. 
“I—ngh-“ Another whine slips out from his throat at your movement and Steve’s hand slips back, gripping your hip tightly. “Jesus Christ. Y-Yeah I’m good, just trying not to— fuck- end this too quickly.” 
He moves a bit, readjusting him arms to hold weight up a little easier.
“But you’re really wet and, like, really warm,” He grunts, almost accusingly. “And I really like you, so,” 
You can’t help it — a little laugh titters out of you, one of pure delight because Steve is sincere about his feelings. The laugh only serves to make Steve groan louder. 
“Shit,” He gasps, his forehead pressing into your shoulder. “You can’t laugh right now, it’s so not helping.” 
“Sorry,” you laugh again, a little more apologetic this time. 
Then, after a moment of gathered bravery, you say, “I don’t think I like this position. I can’t see your face.” 
Steve makes a pained noise from behind you, a breathy and sharp inhale, and suddenly his grip on your hip is twice as tight. 
“I’m gonna need you to stop talking. Please.” He grits out, voice sounding tight and barely restraining the moan in it. “I’m trying really hard here but you’re making this impossible.” 
Steve shifts on his elbow again, bicep bulging as he lowers himself to one side. His hips press into your backside, sinking himself further into your wet heat, as he settles his weight down onto the mattress. The springs make a noise in protest. 
You’re still closely intertwined, Steve pressed up against you, still throbbing within you, but now it’s more like… you’re spooning.
You settle down too, forcing out an exhale to let yourself melt back into Steve’s chest. 
He lets out a soft groan again but the new position means he can bury his face in your neck properly— and when you turn your head right, he seizes the chance for a kiss. 
He kisses sweet and slow to begin with, plush lips nipping at yours as if you’re not already in the throes of sex. Like he kisses you hello. His nose nudges against yours and he shimmies an arm beneath you on the bed. It curls itself around your stomach and Steve uses it to bring you even closer. 
“Is this better?” He whispers. He nudges his hips for a bit, giving a gentle thrust. Something warm flares at the pit of your belly, hungry for more. “Still okay?” 
You nod, a whimper escaping your throat as you steal another kiss from his lips. “Yes,” You whisper, lips scraping against his, hardly believing it. “Feels— feels good, baby,”
Steve finally gives in to his moan, a beautiful noise that sends heat rushing between your thighs. He begins to move more, building a gentle rhythm as he fucks into you, sensual and adoring all in one. 
Time drips away. You feel much warmer now, pressed up against Steve’s chest, with his kisses all around. One of his hands stays dutifully between your legs, pushing around your bundle of nerves and pulling weak, soft noises from you. The other, you cling to, your fingers twisted as best they can with his.
Pleasure wraps the pair of you up til a soft glow of sex and love settles over the both of you. Steve murmurs doting words, an endless stream of encouragement pouring from his mouth as he nibbles at the shell of your ear. 
Still feelin’ good? Yeah, you are. Just listen to you- sounding so pretty wrapped around my cock. 
Fuck, your pussy makes the cutest noises. So wet f’me, isn’t she? God, you drive me crazy. 
You’re taking me so well, yeah? Being so fuckin’ good f’me- letting me know how you feel. M’so lucky - fuckin’ love— love this with you.
You don’t even realise when every gasp out your mouth has turned into a moan, each breath building and mounting. Your chest heaves and Steve’s motions go from lazy to focused. His hips slow a little but his fingers over your clit speed up, dancing across the nerves perfectly. 
You clutch desperately at the arm he has wrapped around your waist, your head thrown back to rest on his shoulders with your eyes screwed shut. Your hole clenches wildly as you hurtle towards your orgasm— and go right over the edge without warning. 
You make this cute little gasping noise, high pitched and wrapped in a pretty sigh, and Steve doesn't think he's ever heard something so sensual, so pretty. His blood seems to thrum in response, pleasure turning the coil in his gut tighter and tighter.
Euphoria melts into your body and you sag into it with a drawn out soft moan, turning your face to search for Steve’s in an instant. One of your hands darts up, sloppily reaching for the back of his neck, suddenly starved of a kiss. 
You find his lips right as Steve finds his peak— his handsome face screwing up as he all but whines into your mouth. You capture it, some heavy, open mouthed kiss of desperation shared between you. 
Pleasure flows over you, hot and heavy, fuelled by the frantic grinds of Steve’s hips into yours as he whimpers into your mouth. Even though some part of you feels vulgar, another, louder, part of you feels like you've taken part in something sacred. Steve's fierce kiss certain feels akin to something holy.  
After a minute, the euphoria fades. You settle back into your body, feeling the scratch of the cotton sheets beneath you, the sweat of Steve’s chest on your back, the slightly discomfort in between your thighs. 
Steve can feel it, the moment you tense back up, some unwelcome twinge of pain in your gut. He’s shuffling back and pulling out before you even have to ask.
Without his chest to lean on, you roll backward naturally and flop onto your back, still panting lightly. Steve shifts up to hover above you. 
“You good?” He asks, that same breathlessness in his voice. He smiles handsomely, his hair a little limper than usual, flopping over his forehead. He looks gorgeous. “You did great.” 
That almost makes you laugh, the sincere praise so like one might give a child, but Steve seals it with a kiss to your forehead. Your laugh turns into a sheepish but giddy grin. “I’m gonna take the condom off, I’ll be right back.” 
He disappears from your line of sight for a minute or two and you can hear him rustling around in his room.
Without any distractions, you suddenly remember the film you’d put on in the beginning, still running at the end of the bed— the final credits are just starting to roll. The streetlights glow a little brighter in the evening dark through the curtains. 
You huff out a breath and your smile comes without even trying. In fact, if Steve hadn’t come back when he did, you’re sure you would’ve started giggle to yourself madly, cocooned in your own contentedness. That same awed, gleeful smile just like the first time round.
“You look like a dope, smiling like that, you know that?”
Steve’s wearing a pair of boxers, green plaid, and he’s got a fresh, warm wash-cloth in his hands. 
"I didn't know that," You muse playfully.
“Hey,” He changes tone to less playful, kneeling on the bed. You notice the change of clothes in his other hand when he throws them onto the duvet beside him. “M’just gonna clean you up a bit, that okay?” 
You’re sure there’s a pinch of embarrassment in you somewhere but, still blissed from your orgasm, you can’t manage to find it. Steve is quick and precise, the warm cloth wiping up any excess sticky fluids. He kisses the inside of your knee when he’s done. 
“All done,” He murmurs, climbing back off the bed in the direction of the bathroom, switching off the television as he does. He gestures to the clothes at the foot of the bed as he walks. “Y’can wear these if you want.” 
Finally feeling less flattened, you shift up to lean on your elbows. He’s grabbed you a pair of his boxers, the matching blue pair to his green, and one of his old Hawkins swim-team shirts. You slip into both quickly, your heart going a bit fuzzy with how soft the shirt is. 
Then you crawl beneath the covers, blood still rushing far faster than usual and a satisfied tiredness beginning to sink into your body. You can't help but thinking it all over — Steve's mouth between your legs, the feel of him sinking into you, the ecstasy of falling apart in his arms.
Part of you hadn't wanted to acknowledge that, well, it fucking worked this time and you enjoyed it. A niggly fear about jinxing it. Like if you pointed it out, it would incite the likelihood of your body turning on you once more. Robbing you of pleasure and experience in equal measure.
But when Steve comes bounding back to the bed, dragging back the covers to join you beneath them, you speak first.
"So, that didn't suck." You say excitedly, biting back your grin as Steve settles down beside you.
Together, you share one pillow as he scooches in closer. His hands reach out, searching for you amongst the sheets. When he finds your hips, he uses them to drag you closer to him, a halfhearted cuddle.
He lets out a puff of air against the pillow, a light snort. "I mean, hopefully it didn't just not suck."
If you had more energy, you might give him a playful shove because you know he knows what you mean. He'd seen the whole display of nervous emotions attached to sex all the way leading up to it.
Instead, heart feeling awfully gooey in your chest, you seize the opportunity to press in closer to him. Your head tucks beneath his chin, your lips barely grazing his throat.
"It was really good." You whisper, lashes fluttering as your eyes fight to stay open. Steve's warm on a good day. He's hot as a furnace with all the blood that's pumping around still. Perfect for snuggling up with.
"Yeah?" He sounds delightfully pleased, but not the smug kind. He sounds happy that you enjoyed it.
Then he whispers, "Told you it wasn't you."
His big palm sweeps up your back soothingly.
He's right. You've never been so glad to be on the receiving end of an I told you so before. Not that Steve would say that (at least, not right now).
Cuddling in closer, you wriggle one hand out from beneath the covers, not bothering to pull back or open your eyes when you murmur, "Just had sex high-five?"
You can feel Steve's laugh as it rumbles through his throat. It's an inside joke now, it seems.
"Hell yeah." He wiggles one hand free and slaps it against yours, probably a little harder than necessary. You laugh too, the sound a mixture of joy and sleep.
And yeah, okay, you might get it now. The whole big fuss around sex that everyone seems to make—but maybe you don't entirely agree with them.
There was something more in the... trust. In knowing that Steve wouldn't have cared which way it happened, as long as you were both enjoying it. In the intimacy shared, even before you had ever slept together. In the waiting. In the wanting—for both yourself and for Steve.
There's some grandeur discovery you've uncovered, you're sure of it, about the mystery and craze around sex. You just keep losing the string of thoughts to your slumber which drifts ever closer.
Oh well. You can always put it all together in the morning when you're not so tempted by sleep and bundled up in the arms of a boy who you love. For now, you drift off, fulfilled and content.
tags below! (seven months later...)
@roanniom @madaboutjoe @huang-the-geek @pootcullen @superskittles
@hales-who-loves-to-reid @spear-bearing-bi-witch @daisiesandinvasives @season4steve @thelauraborealis
@mmmunson @everythinghasafacee @katethetank @sorry--for-the-mess @matterdontminduntildone
@blowing-mikey @astoryreader @mulletmcghee @sugarcoatedstarkey @pullhisteeth
(these are just the ppl in the tags that mentioned wanting to be tagged! if i know u follow me and are a regular, i didn't bother tagging u cos i know you'll see it hehehe <3)
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mcflymemes · 5 months ago
Text
"SOOOOO... WHAT IF WE KISSED...?" PROMPTS * assorted dialogue for tossing out the idea of being in a relationship or just kissing and seeing what happens after, adjust as necessary
i hear you're a good kisser.
are you staring at my lips?
how about a kiss for old time's sake?
maybe we could experiment a little.
have you ever thought about kissing me?
is there even an "us?"
a little bird told me you're a really good kisser.
could you see me as... more than just a friend?
what's a little fooling around between friends?
i'll admit, i have thought about you like that.
kissing you sounds like a very good idea.
i've been meaning to ask you out for ages.
maybe we could... see what happens.
there's no harm in a little experimentation.
did you want to kiss me back then?
for what it's worth, i really enjoyed the kiss and i wouldn't mind doing that again sometime.
could we pretend this is our first kiss?
maybe we could go on a date sometime.
you could start by coming closer.
just wondering what you taste like.
i saw you looking at me earlier.
could we talk about... us?
i'm not interested in anyone but you.
i bet if we tried, we could make it work.
a kiss won't kill us.
wanna makeout?
quick, kiss me before they walk over here.
i've wanted to kiss you for a long time now.
i never had the courage to ask you if you'd kiss me.
could i keep seeing you after this?
i really enjoyed it, by the way.
you're a much better kisser than i expected.
well, that got out of hand quickly.
maybe we should redo our first kiss.
next time, we should make it a date.
can i kiss you?
kissing sounds really fun right now.
have you been kissed before?
i never liked kissing until you.
you are... unbelievably good at that.
give me a minute to catch my breath.
your heart is racing.
are you okay? you look very flustered.
are my cheeks burning?
figured we're both about to die, so what the hell.
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