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#im always thinking about his eyes becoming blue again
ingellvargallus · 2 years
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the fact that kanan jarrus got to see hera syndulla one less time before his sacrifice makes me lose my mind a bit ngl
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chxrryhansen · 6 months
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4.   rafe finding reader's toys she has and using them all on her at once because his ego is all like “I’m not good enough or something? Fine!”
-💎
i’m so sorry i literally just realised you asked for him to use them all on her after, i didn’t see it until i was just about to post, sorry if i disappointed <3
₊♡₊˚ 🎀・₊✧
you stood from the couch in shock as rafe burst through the living room door, his messy bangs sticking to his forehead and his face red with fury and a medium size box in his hands, the rage in his eyes clear.
“rafe wha-“
he threw the box into your lap, his hands settling on his hips as he stared you down with his dark blues.
“what. the. fuck. is. this?” his tone calmer than usual which immediately put you on edge, and causing an eery feeling to rise in your stomach.
looking down at the box you stilled, a bright pink 7 inch dildo staring straight back at you, along side your pretty purple vibrator. swallowing heavily you looked up at him through your lashes, rafe sneered.
“what the fuck is this shit huh? what yo-you think that im not good enough or somethn’ ? hiding that shit from me, did you really think i wouldn’t find out? huh? you thought that i- that i wouldn’t find out that my own girlfriends a-a needy fuckin’ cock whore?”
his anger was visible through his clenched fists as he rambled, pacing back and forth in-front of you.
“rafe i-i swear i haven’t used them since i met you, i don’t even need them anymo-”
he scoffed, throwing his hands in the air in mock understanding before swiftly moving to grip your jaw in a tight grip. you hated when he got like this, when his jealousy and insecurity took over there was no grounding rafe cameron. you should’ve known there was no point in trying to argue with him, he always wins. every single time.
“you’re a fuckin’ liar. you’re a lying fuckin’ whore. this dick not good enough for you, hmm? i’ll fuckin’ show you.” he murmured. you held his hand in your own, planting your feet and making a move to stand on shaky legs.
not on his watch.
rafe gripped your shoulders, roughly throwing you back down onto the couch, face down, before pulling up your skirt and tearing your panties in half. you keened, gasping at the sensation of cool air hitting your bare cunt.
your gasp quickly turned to a scream as rafe pummelled his cock into your pussy, no warning, no preparation, nothing. with one thrust he was balls deep, bottoming out into your cervix and sending tears streaming down your flushed cheeks. “fuck rafe!” you cried, the pain overwhelming.
he didn’t care. in his mind you deserved it. i mean, how dare you use his hole without permission? thoughtlessly shoving another cock in his cunt.
“shut the fuck up, you dumb bitch. i really gotta’ teach you the basics all over again, huh? this is my pussy, y’hear me? mine. say it, tell me who’s pussy this is.” he growled, his hips slamming into your plump ass from behind, the sound of skin clapping filling the room, his thick hand wrapped around your hair and tugging roughly.
“yours! it’s your pussy. i’m sorry, daddy. i’m so s-” you wailed into the cushion as rafe pushed your head back down into the couch.
“damn right it is, and did i give you permission to put some other cock in my pussy? caus’ i swear i didn’t.” he laughed manically, drowning out your cries. his thrusts becoming heavier, his thick length driving into your cervix with every pump.
“didn’t your ma ever tell you not to touch other peoples toys?”
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stevie-petey · 4 months
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episode four: the sauna test
Steve pushes at Dustin’s feet to help him move further, but he’s quickly berated. “Not my feet, dumbass. Push my ass!” “What?” You and Steve exclaim at the same time.  “Touch my butt, I don’t care!” Dustin’s screeching voice is muffled from the walls of the vent. Looking at you one last time, Steve sighs heavily and places his hands on your brother’s butt and starts to shove him deeper into the air duct. He can’t believe he’s doing this right now, shoving the butt of the brother of the girl he’s in love with. You stand next to Robin, mortified of what you’re currently witnessing, endlessly ashamed of the two boys. 
Summary: dustin has some brotherly concern for you (dont tell anyone though), steve is offended you dont think he can fight, nancy gets upset during therapy hour, robin encourages child endangerment, erica becomes your hero, and you lose your lunch on hawkins makeshift tower of terror (aka sketchy russian elevators)
Rating: general, swearing
Warnings: swearing, use of y/n, fem!reader
Words: 7.5k
Before you swing in: hello my loves ! had a busy may wrapping up finals, move out, and adjusting back to life at home. i finally had the time to write this, and while im still iffy with some parts, im just excited to finally be at the elevator scene tbh. ive been DYING to write her. enjoy !!
-
Dustin stands outside your room the next morning, fist hovering over the door, unsure if he should knock. It’s early and he can’t get the panic he saw in your eyes last night out of his head. He hasn’t seen you that consumed with anxiety since you guys were kids and your parents began to fight. 
He feels horrible for putting you in that position last night, at odds with him, Robin, and Steve. 
Especially Steve. 
Dustin hadn’t meant to start a fight between you and the teen. Contrary to popular belief, he actually does want the two of you together, but now he’s worried he’s somehow caused a rift in your relationship.
Sighing, your brother allows his knuckles to rap against your door. When he doesn’t hear anything, he slowly opens it and pokes his head in. You’re asleep in your bed, blankets strewn everywhere, and Dustin knows he’s fucked up because you almost never sleep in this late. 
Now he’s worried he’s going to have to force you into a code blue.
Dustin lets himself into your room and stands before your bed. Then, because he’s your brother and finds it hard to express his worries for you in a normal way, he pokes your cheek with his finger. “Wake up.”
You stir at the touch but remain asleep. Dustin groans and starts repeatedly poking you. “Dude, get up.” He now starts poking your nose, your forehead and eyebrows, anywhere his finger can reach.
Finally the onslaught of pokes to your face is enough to wake you up. You raise your hand and slap Dustin away as you scrunch your face in displeasure. “Why do you always insist on waking me up this way?”
“It’s fun for me.”
You slap at your brother again and take a moment to stretch. Your body is exhausted, you got home late last night after your drive with Jonathan. Once the two of you had been done discussing your relationship problems, you both decided to just drive around Hawkins and simmer in your limited time together. For those few hours, only the two of you existed.
Yawning, you blink your eyes open at Dustin. “Is there a reason you’re waking me up before my alarm is supposed to go off?”
Dustin’s smug smile falls. He coughs and starts to fidget with his fingers. “Oh, I was just–well. Last night… Do you wanna talk about it?”
The implications of your brother’s words cause you to fully wake up. “Is this your poor attempt at commencing a code blue?”
“Well, do we need a code blue?”
You roll over and throw your blankets over your head, blocking out the world. “I already talked about my feelings last night with Jonathan, please give me at least twenty-four hours to recover.”
Dustin flicks your ear that pokes out from under the blankets at the mention of Jonathan. “Why were you with that guy last night?”
“Stop touching my face!” You yell at the kid, annoyed. “And because he’s my best friend. We both had shitty nights so we drove around and cried together.”
Your brother pauses. “Did you actually cry together?”
“No,” you now uncover your face and sigh. “Only I cried, but it was therapeutic nonetheless.”
Dustin drops his head, remembering how upset you’d been standing in the hallway last night with the others. “I’m sorry about last night, Y/N.”
“Hey, no.” You sit up now and force him to look at you. “No apologizing. I understand.”
Your friends have all gone their separate ways this summer and I know you’re so fixated on the Russians because you’re lonely. I understand, and I’m here for you.
It goes unsaid, but Dustin knows that you have him all figured out, though it doesn’t ease the guilt he feels for dragging you into all of this in the first place. “You don’t have to join me at Scoops today, Y/N.”
“I know, but I will anyway after my shift.” I have to keep you safe.
“We both know you’re only going to make sure I don’t burn the place down.” You worry too much.
“Oh, don’t think I won’t call Steve once this conversation is done to make sure he keeps an eye on you.” I know, but it’s my job and I love you.
“You’re the worst.” I love you, too.
You ruffle Dustin’s hair with a fond smile. It’s an intricate thing, the hidden language that can only be found between siblings. All that goes unsaid becomes masked behind teasing and taunts, but you both hear what’s underneath. 
When Dustin leaves your room to go to the mall, you roll over in bed and reach for the phone that rests on top of your desk. Your fingers press the numbers that have become ingrained within your brain from countless nights of dialing. The line rings only one time before Steve’s tired voice answers. 
“Hello?”
You smile hearing his voice, despite the distance that seems to have now formed between you. “Hi, honey.”
There’s rustling on the other end of the line and you know Steve still lays in his own bed only ten minutes from your own. “Is everything okay?”
“Everything is fine,” you quickly reassure him, wincing when you realize you don’t normally call him so early. “Sorry, I was just calling to ask if you’d keep an eye on Dustin today? With the Russians and everything, I have work today and can’t be there–”
“Of course I’ll keep an eye on your brother, Y/N.” Steve gently interrupts your anxious rambling. 
“Thank you,” you say softly with a laugh, embarrassed. 
“Are we…” Steve hesitates, unsure how to find the right words. “Are we okay? I know things were–uh, weird. Last night. And that I was a dick and I just, I’m really sorry, Y/N. For everything.”
You close your eyes and exhale slowly, knowing that there’s more that Steve wants to say but is too afraid to tell you. Too ashamed to say that he’s embarrassed as well for allowing his pride to cloud his judgment, and you’re too exhausted to try and remind him again that you love him despite it all. “We’re okay, Steve. I promise.”
He takes a moment to respond, he doesn’t know what else to say. He’s never been good at this. Finally, he settles on what he’s able to give you. It seems that’s all he’s been able to do lately. “I’ll miss you today, angel.”
“I’ll miss you too, honey.” The name slips from your tongue in a languid manner, the warmth that accompanies the word still wraps itself around your body and reminds you of the love you feel for the boy. You hope he can feel the warmth too, you hope it descends down the landline and wraps around him as well. “I’ll see you after work.”
– 
Your day only gets worse from there.
After only an hour or so of sadly sorting through books at work without a customer in sight, you hear a frail scream come from Mrs. Waters’ office. You run towards the woman in a heartbeat, panic stricken and afraid of what you’ll find. 
Mrs. Waters is sitting tiredly in her office with her head in her hands when you run in. The usually upbeat woman is hunched over with despair and you’re quick to rush over to her with worry. “Mrs. Waters, is everything okay?”
She rubs at her temples and it’s then that you realize her telephone is in her hand. Without bothering to look, she clumsily places it back on the wall and looks up at you with sad, tired eyes. “I’m fine, dear. I–I just had a fright, that’s all.”
“What happened?” You pull a chair to sit next to the woman and grab her wrinkled, yet soft, hands. 
“Oh, I’m old.” Mrs. Waters smiles at you sadly. There are tears in her eyes as she takes a deep breath to try and steady her nerves. “My, you would think I’d be used to phone calls from the hospital.”
“The hospital?” 
Hearing the panic in your voice, your boss grabs the hands you have placed on top of her’s and squeezes with reassurance. “It wasn’t for me, dear.”
You’re still anxious for the woman in front of you. “Who then?”
“They called me for an old friend,” Mrs. Waters clutches at her chest with a certain fear that you’ve never seen within the woman. “She’s in the hospital because some young journalist found her eating fertilizer in her home last night. She’s always been… troubled.”
You gasp and pull away from your boss and your mind reels with this new information. Jonathan’s voice echoes within the walls of your mind, of his story of the woman he and Nancy had found last night after investigating the rats. 
Mrs. Waters frowns at your unexpected reaction and notices the fear on your face. “Dear, I’m sure my friend will be alright–”
“What…” your voice shakes, and you clear your throat. “What’s your friend’s name, Mrs. Waters?”
The old woman sighs, sensing there’s something more to your worry, but her heart hurts for her friend and she’s seen more in her almost seventy years than she’s ever wanted to. “Her name is Doris Driscoll.”
You’re sent home early after your conversation with Mrs. Waters. She had been too worried for her friend and saw how shaken up by it you seemed to be as well, so she patted your arm and dismissed you. 
“There’s no point keeping the store open today, Y/N. Go home to that cute boy of yours while I go visit an old friend.”
You had tried arguing with her, but even you knew it was no use. 
Biking to Starcourt, now more than ever worried about your job, you feel your birthday looming over you and the worries of Nancy’s involvement with rats and old women eating fertilizer mixed with Jonathan’s fears. 
This was supposed to be a good summer. 
Your head spins as you walk into the backdoor of Scoops Ahoy, finding Robin, Steve, and Dustin all circled around the table as they discuss how to enter the Russian storage room. 
“What? I sneak up behind, knock him out, and I take his keycard.” Steve is explaining when you walk in. He has his leg propped against the seat next to him as he twirls his sailor’s hat in his hand. “It’s easy.”
“Did you not hear the part about the massive gun?” Dustin blinks at the teen, having little faith in his confidence.
You make your way towards the group and lift Steve’s propped leg up so that you can sit before placing the leg across your lap. Feeling your touch, he looks up with surprise to see you, having expected your shift to end later in the day. “Y/N?”
“You’re not going near any Russian men with guns, Steve.” You say to him in lieu of a greeting.
Steve deflates in his seat. “That’s why I’d be sneaking.”
Dustin shares a look with you, the two of you remembering all the times Steve has tried, and failed, to win a fight. Clearing his throat, your brother crosses his arms and winks at you before turning to the teen. “Alright, please tell us this, and be honest. Have you ever actually… won a fight?”
Steve rolls his eyes. “Okay, that was one time–”
“Twice, honey.” You interrupt him with a smile, enjoying this conversation maybe a little too much. “Jonathan, remember him?”
“Listen, that doesn’t count.”
“Oh, but it does.” You pinch Steve’s shin. “He kicked your ass, I was there.”
He winces and moves his legs off of you. “He didn’t kick my ass–”
“You got a fat lip, crooked nose, swollen eye.” Dustin adds on, leaning against your chair now as the two of you gang up on Steve. 
“He even pinned you at one point. I distinctly remember thinking he was going to kill you.” You say, smirking.
Steve scoffs. “Oh, you did not have any concern for me then–”
You hit his shoulder. “Yes I did! I’ve always been worried about you–”
“Can you guys not make everything about your weird relationship for like, three seconds, please?” Dustin whines as you and Steve start to bicker about something else entirely.
As the three of you argue, Robin seems to get an idea and runs out of the room. Noticing her sudden absence, you turn to Steve and frown. “What’s Robin up to?”
He stands up and sees her snatching money from the tip jar before running off. Steve calls after her, but she doesn’t slow down as she runs out of the shop. “What are you doing?”
“I need cash!” She says, as if that explains everything.
“Isn’t half of the tip money Steve’s?” You ask, now standing next to him by the register alongside Dustin.
“I’ll pay your boyfriend back later, Y/N.” Robin continues to walk towards the shop’s exit. “I’m going to find us a way into that room, a safe way, just like I promised you.”
You’re oddly touched that she remembered your insistence on keeping everyone safe. With a smile, you call across to her, “thank you!”
Robin blushes and forces herself to look away from you so that she can direct her attention to Steve. “In the meantime, sling ice cream, behave, and don’t get beat up. I’ll be back in a jiff!” 
As you and Steve watch Robin leave, the two of you turn and catch Dustin licking at one of the ice cream scoops. You whack him with the back of your hand and cringe at him. “Dude, what the hell?”
Dustin flinches away from you as Steve snatches the scoop from the boy with his own disgusted look. “Not my scooper, man.”
“Why are you like this?” You ask your brother with disappointment in your voice, to which he huffs at. 
“I’m a curious person.” You scoff at Dustin and he rolls his eyes at you before making his way out from behind the ice cream counter. “If I’m going to be judged, then I’m going to the arcade while we wait for whatever Robin has planned.”
He’s gone without another word, leaving you alone with Steve.
It’s still early in the day and there’s only a few customers in Scoops Ahoy, so it’s just you and Steve. It’s the first time you’ve been alone together since last night, when you’d been standing in front of him, begging him to listen to you, and all he could do was watch you silently with pain in his own eyes. 
As if coming to this realization himself, Steve coughs and rocks back and forth awkwardly. He knows you told him this morning that everything was okay between you two, but things still feel off. Despite your best efforts, he can tell that you’re still struggling to seem okay with the whole Russian debacle. You’re still frail looking, unsure and anxious, and Steve hates that he’s the reason why. 
Hesitantly, he reaches for your hand. “Care to, uh. Join me in the backroom?”
You raise your eyebrows at his question. “Are you propositioning me, Harrington?”
“No!” His eyes widen in fear and his voice squeaks, which only embarasses him more. He clears his throat and tries to swallow down his dread. “I mean, not like that. I figured we could, you know… talk.”
Now it’s your turn to fill with dread. He’s seen through you, despite your best efforts to try and appease everyone. Squeezing his hand, you nod at Steve and allow him to guide you into the backroom. 
Steve pulls a chair out from the table and sits down, and before you can process what’s happening, he pulls you down and into his lap. You throw your arms around his neck to steady yourself at the sudden movement, which only makes Steve’s proud smile widen. “You planned that, didn’t you?”
“Sure did, angel.”
You laugh and shake your head at him, tightening your arms around his neck and settling into his lap. He rests his hands on your thighs and stares at you with such warmth, such patience, content to simply have you here with him. Despite the uncertainty that seems to now loom over the two of you, there’s still a certainty within it. There’s still a trust that accompanies the hesitancy, and it’s this trust that caresses your cheek and coaxes you to speak. 
“I don’t like what we’re doing, Steve.” You confess to him, making your words as plain as possible so that nothing gets misconstrued; too often your words have gotten lost in translation.
Steve nods slightly, his eyes never leave yours, and he listens. “I get that, I do, and I’m sorry if I ever made you feel bad about standing your ground. It’s just… I wanted to go along with Dustin, pretend for a few days that I’m not some moron who couldn’t get into college, you know?”
“You’re not an idiot,” you fix a piece of Steve’s hair that has fallen out of his sailor’s hat and sigh. “But there’s more to this than just my stupid need to protect everyone.”
“Did something else happen?” 
You hesitate, unsure if what’s been on your mind holds any real weight, or if you’re just being paranoid now after everything you’ve been through these last few years. Biting your lip, you decide that it’s Steve you’re telling this to. Paranoid or not, he’ll listen and try to help you piece it all together as well. He always does. “A few days ago I saw Billy stumbling on the side of the road. He was… bleeding.”
Steve’s eyes harden at the teen’s name and instinctively his grip on you tightens. “Did he do anything to you?”
“No,” you breathe out sharply, remembering how disoriented Billy had been. He was in no condition to cause you any harm, which in itself frightened you. “There was something off about him, Steve. I–I can’t explain it, but a day before I saw Billy, I had been with Will and he was almost similar to Billy, I guess? He just–he was frozen, staring off into space, until I got his attention again.”
“Why do I feel like there’s something else you’re not telling me?”
You sigh. “Because there is. There’s always something else in the fucking town.” Anger begins to rise within you and you force yourself to swallow it down. Now isn’t the time for the anger that always simmers just below the surface, waiting. “I talked to Jonathan last night. He’s been with Nancy investigating rabid rats and an old woman who was caught eating her fertilizer.”
“Christ,” Steve exhales with bewilderment.
“And now Russians in Hawkins? What are the odds of this all happening within the same week?”
“Do you…” Looking around, Steve lowers his voice. “Do you think it’s happening again?”
“I don’t think so, El told us she closed the gate, but… I can’t explain any of this, either.” You feel helpless, and you hate it. There’s something you’re missing, there’s something connecting it all, and yet you’re going in circles. 
It all can’t just be a coincidence, and it’s a horrible, maddening feeling. 
And Steve tries to absolve you from it. “We’ll figure it out, together. You and me, even if you want to kill me by the time we’re done, I promise you that I’ll help you–” The phone starts to ring, cutting Steve off, and he sighs. Patting your thighs, he silently asks you to get up so that he can answer it.
Lazily walking over to the ringing phone, Steve picks it up with slight annoyance. “Scoops Ahoy, this is Steve.” There’s a feminine voice on the other line, which he frowns at, before handing the phone to you. “It’s for you?”
Surprised, you stand up and take the phone, unsure who would be calling for you at the ice cream shop. “Hello?”
“Y/N, it’s me. Um, hi.” 
“Nancy?”
“I–uh, I called your job and this older lady told me you’d be at Scoops Ahoy? I needed someone to talk to, and I–I just,” She clears her throat, and it’s only now that you notice the exhaustion in her voice and how thick it sounds from dried up tears. “You know what? This is weird, I shouldn’t have called. I’m sorry–”
“Hey, no.” You fumble with the telephone cord and desperately wish you were with Nancy right now. After what Jonathan told you last night, you feel horrible for the girl, and from the sound of it, she needs someone there for her right now. “Talk to me, Nance. What happened?”
You hear her inhale a shaky breath, always the first to try and disguise any upset and hurt she may be feeling for the sake of others. She takes another deep breath, exhales slowly, and then begins to talk. “Jonathan and I had a fight.”
She tells you everything, from Mrs. Driscoll and the rats to Tom firing them for falsely identifying as reporters. It’s everything Jonathan told you last night, all his worst fears come true, except Nancy also tells you what he told her this morning. How condescending he had been, how he had reminded her of how poor he is, how he belittled her need to figure everything out herself. 
“He kept defending all those assholes, Y/N.” More tears lace within Nancy’s voice. “He wouldn’t listen to me. He just kept repeating over and over again about how he needed the job, as if it wasn’t the single more humiliating thing I’ve ever had to endure.”
There’s so much you want to say, but you’re afraid it will only come out wrong. “I can’t imagine what you had to go through, Nance. I know those men were horrible to you, but you understand where Jonathan is coming from, right?”
“I mean, I thought I did, but,” she sniffs, her voice is soft and defeated. “I’m not so sure anymore. It feels like we can’t understand each other, like we’re physically incapable of seeing eye to eye. I know he has to provide for his family, I–I love that he takes care of them, that he always does what’s right, and yet it infuriates me sometimes.”
You can’t help but chuckle at what Nancy has said. She sounds so much like Jonathan in this moment, reminiscent of him telling you that her ambition is what he loves about her, and here she is saying his integrity is what she loves about him. “God, you two and your pride; you sound just like Jonathan. He said practically the same thing about you last night–”
“Jonathan talked to you about this?” Nancy’s voice becomes cold, defensive, and you know you’ve just said the wrong thing.
“Well, I mean,” you frantically try to alleviate the situation. “He only wanted advice, that’s all.”
Nancy scoffs, and you feel your heart drop. “So he can tell you all about how he feels, but bottles it up when it comes to his girlfriend?”
Well, fuck. 
“He was scared and overwhelmed.” You try to keep your voice neutral, not wanting the girl to assume you’re on anyone’s side. “It’s a difficult situation, and he came to me for help just like you are right now.”
Jealousy claws at Nancy suddenly, it clashes against the hurt within her. Jonathan went to you, as he’s always done, he sought solace in you for the emotions within him that he still has yet to share with her. It reminds her, then, just how little she knows about him still. How many years stretch between you and Nancy when it comes to Jonathan. 
“I’m sure you know all about how he feels,” she says bitterly, unable to stop herself. “The two of you understand one another.”
You sense that there’s something important with what she’s just said. The words were said with a history behind them, an insecurity that you cannot compensate for, and you feel defenseless against Nancy. “He was hurt, and so are you–”
“God, I should’ve known you’d take his side! I mean, you two always do this. I’m such an idiot.”
Panic begins to surround you. “Nancy, I’m not taking anyone’s side, just please listen to me–”
The line goes dead as Nancy hangs up. 
Numb, you place the phone back on the wall and stare blankly at it. The pressure of tears presses against your eyes and you try to steady your breathing. You’ve hurt Nancy, you’ve caused a rift between you that threatens to collapse into a chasm, and you don’t know what to do.
Steve sees that you’re fighting back tears and he tugs you against his chest. His embrace soothes you, but when he asks what happened, all you can do is shake your head, too overwhelmed to speak. There’s too much to explain, a history between you and Jonathan that you know Steve accepts, and yet now you’re terrified you’ll somehow hurt him like you’ve hurt Nancy. 
“I’m sorry, angel.”
Neither of you are sure what Steve is apologizing for, but it’s enough for now. 
So much for an easy summer.
– 
“It is fascinating what twenty bucks will get you at the County Recorder’s Office.” Robin places a giant sheet of paper onto the table. On it are lines and shapes all drawn in blue with an intricate layout. You lean in close to inspect it as Robin continues explaining. “Starcourt Mall, the complete blueprints.” 
Dustin praises her idea and you hesitantly agree; you would’ve never thought of asking for the mall’s blueprints. “You’ve got my attention.”
She smiles and starts to explain her plan. “This is us, Scoops,” her fingers trace over the paper as she guides you and the boys through the blueprint. “And this is where we want to get.”
“I don’t really see a way in.” Steve points out, now sitting at the table with an arm wrapped around you. 
“There’s not,” Robin casts the top blueprint aside and reveals another one underneath. It’s similar in design, although this one lacks more shapes and is mostly lines. “If you’re talking exclusively about doors.”
You squint at the drawings, trying to figure out what they remind you of. “Are those…”
“Air ducts!” Dustin finishes for you, impressed with Robin’s idea.
“Safe, practical, and wouldn’t involve guns.” Turning to the girl, you nod at her and wink. “Buckley, you really keep your promises.”
Robin bows playfully. “Turns out, this secret room needs air just like any old room, and these air ducts,” she grabs a marker from the whiteboard and circles Scoops on the blueprints before drawing a winding line down to the hidden vault and circling it as well. “Lead all the way here.”
The four of you all look up at the vent above you, and while the idea seems like the safest option, you can’t help but wonder how horribly wrong it could go as well. You’ve never had the best luck, not when it comes to Hawkins, and the air ducts seem almost too easy of a solution to trust. 
Steve finds a screwdriver in one of the shop’s drawers and takes apart the air vent with Dustin’s help. You stand next to Robin and watch with slight weariness, unsure where to go from here. Once Steve has removed the vent, he shines a flashlight inside and winces. 
“I don’t know, guys. It’s a tight fit.”
“I can do it,” you step forward. “Can’t be that bad, right?”
Steve looks down at you from the ladder. “This feels like a trap.”
“Move, Harrington.” Once he’s off the ladder, you climb up yourself. When you look into the vent, your heart drops. It is a tight fit, there’s no way you’ll be able to crawl through it. Defeated, you climb down the ladder. “Well, shit.”
“I’ll fit.” Dustin now speaks up.
“No you will not.”
He rolls his eyes at you. “No collar bones, remember?” 
“Excuse me?” Robin has never been more confused in her life.
Steve begins to explain Dustin’s medical condition while you continue arguing with your brother. “I’m not letting you do this!”
“You got the healthy genes while I got the rare genetic condition, Y/N.” Dustin starts to climb up the ladder as you tug at his shirt to try and stop him. “Let me abuse it!”
“But–”
Steve places a hand on your shoulder. “I’ll handle this, Y/N.”
You step back, hoping that he’ll talk some sense into your brother, but to your horror he only makes things worse. Dustin starts to climb into the vent with Steve below him, but he gets stuck about halfway in. “Steve, push me!”
The teen looks at you, unsure what the right call here is. “Do I…?”
“Yeah, just push the kid.” You rub your eyes, tired. “He’s already almost in the damn air duct anyways.” 
Steve pushes at Dustin’s feet to help him move further, but he’s quickly berated. “Not my feet, dumbass. Push my ass!”
“What?” You and Steve exclaim at the same time. 
“Touch my butt, I don’t care!” Dustin’s screeching voice is muffled from the walls of the vent.
Looking at you one last time, Steve sighs heavily and places his hands on your brother’s butt and starts to shove him deeper into the air duct. He can’t believe he’s doing this right now, shoving the butt of the brother of the girl he’s in love with. You stand next to Robin, mortified of what you’re currently witnessing, endlessly ashamed of the two boys. 
The two boys argue, Dustin commanding Steve to push him harder as the teen tries his best to shove the kid, and Robin leans over to you. “Remind me, why are you into Harrington again?”
All you can do is sigh at her question, having no good answer as you watch Steve now manhandle Dustin and scream back insults at him. 
They look ridiculous. 
“Ahoy, sailors!” Someone rings the register’s bell impatiently. “All hands on deck!”
You and Robin turn to find Erica standing at the register as she repeatedly rings the bell and demands her daily free samples. You’re about to respond to her when you see Robin raise her eyebrows; it’s clear she’s thought of something. 
“Would… Erica fit in the vent?”
Your hand snatches at Robin’s arm as you pull her away from the shop’s window. “Absolutely not. We’re not getting Erica involved!”
“C’mon, Y/N. She’s small, she could easily fit–”
“She’s ten.” She’s too young. You’ve always regretted that Dustin and the party were twelve when everything began. 
You’ll be damned if you ruin another child’s life. 
But Robin doesn’t know any of this, and she ignores you as she runs to the register and recruits Erica before you can stop her. Within a minute you have a very curious Erica Sinclair climbing the ladder up to the vent as she shines a flashlight through it. 
You stand below her, helpless. 
“Yeah, I don’t know.” She climbs down after a few minutes of studying the vent’s dimensions. 
“You don’t know if you can fit?” Dustin asks. 
Erica leans against the table and studies the four of you with distaste. “Oh, I can fit. I just don’t know if I want to.”
“Are you claustrophobic?” Robin teases her, but you only feel sympathy for the girl. 
You step towards Erica, trying one last time to reason with her. “You don’t have to do this, you know. You can back down now, no one will blame you. In fact, I will give you all my allowance if you say no.”
Dustin elbows you roughly to get you to shut up, he knows what you’re trying to do. You glare at him and rub your now tender shoulder. When you look towards Steve and Robin for backup, both teens send you pleading glances similar to the ones from last night.
Once again, you’re the odd man out. 
None of this is what you want.
“I don’t have phobias,” Erica informs Robin. Then, she turns to you, “and no one tells me what to do.”
Steve crosses his arms. “Okay, well. What’s the problem?”
“The problem is, I still haven’t heard what’s in this for Erica.”
Ten minutes later, you’re sitting in a booth with the others as Steve slides Erica a freshly made sundae. 
“More fudge, please.” She requests, pleased she’s won.
Steve looks at you, already fed up with the kid, and you feel no sympathy for him. “Go on, get the girl her bribery fudge. This is what you wanted.”
He cringes at the sarcasm in your voice and knows you’re once again pissed at him. Defeated, he hangs his head low and leaves to get Erica more fudge without another word. Once he’s gone, Robin opens up her blueprints and shows the girl the air ducts. “You see this? This is the route you’re going to take.”
You sit there quietly as Dustin and Robin talk to Erica. After they’ve explained the entire plan, she mentions that this all sounds like child endangerment. You let out an exhausted chuckle. “It does, doesn’t it? Isn’t that just hilarious to think about?”
Robin tries to reassure both you and Erica. “We’ll be in radio contact with you the whole time–” 
“Ah, ah, ah!” Erica waves a finger in Robin’s face, unamused. “Child. Endangerment.”
“It’s a shame only you can see that.” You drop your head onto the table, entirely over the situation. “I mean, how can only the ten year old see how insane this is, huh?”
Dustin throws a straw at you and shushes you, annoyed with your theatrics. Clearing his throat, he turns to Erica. “We think these Russians want to do harm to our country.”
“Unconfirmed, actually.” You retort. With every passing minute, it becomes more and more evident that this really is happening, and there’s no way you can back out now; someone sane has to be there to protect everyone. Dustin and the others all seem deluded by the idea of fame and adventure, but all you want to do is keep your loved ones safe. 
“Shut up,” Dustin shoves you further away from him as he tries to win over Erica’s agreement. “Great harm. Don’t you love your country?”
“You can’t spell ‘America’ without ‘Erica’.” She takes a sip from her drink, now listening.
You lift your head up from the table and share a baffled look with Dustin, both of you going through how to spell America in your heads. Amazingly, Erica is right. You really can’t spell the word without her name. 
“Incredible,” you whisper, in complete disbelief. 
Dustin shakes his head. “Uh, yeah. Oddly, that’s–uh, totally true… So, don’t do this for us. Do it for your country. Do it for your fellow man, for America – Erica.”
After your brother’s speech, Erica puts down her drink and mocks him, still not entirely sold on the whole child endangerment idea. Instead, she goes on a whole spiel about how she loves capitalism and paying people for their services while you sit there, head pounding with a headache. 
“And it seems to me,” Erica concludes with a smile, “my ability to fit into that little vent is very, very valuable to you all. So, you want my help? This USS Butterscotch better be the first of many. I’m talking free ice cream for life.”
Robin and Dustin mirror exasperated expressions on their faces, but honestly? You get a kick out of Erica recognizing her worth; she’s brilliant. Without saying anything, you lift your hand up for Erica to high five, which she happily accepts. 
“To child endangerment!” You cheer, your voice oozing sarcasm, and Erica follows suit as Robin and Dustin both slump in their seats. 
– 
It’s your idea to prep Erica for whatever she may find after crawling through the ducts. You shoved a helmet on her head and forced knee pads onto the girl, which she adamantly protested against. 
“This is excessive, even for you.”
You held up money, which promptly shut her up. “Wear the protection and do exactly as I say, or lose $5.”
After she took the money, you then held out your switchblade for her to take as well. “And use this if anything happens, alright?”
Erica had stared at you, slightly surprised. “Why do you carry knives on you?”
“Ask questions later.”
Now you’re anxiously waiting on the mall’s rooftop once more with Dustin, Steve, and Robin as you radio Erica for updates.
“You nerds in position or what?” Her voice drones through the walkie’s speaker.
“Yeah, we’re in position.” Robin confirms. The three of you have been scouting the shipment deck for the last thirty minutes, making sure all the possible Russian guards were gone. “It’s all quiet up here, so you’ve got the green light.”
You take the walkie from Robin. “But be careful, okay?”
“Yeah, yeah. Be careful and green light, roger that. Commence Operation Child Endangerment.”
Robin snatches the walkie back and cringes at what Erica has said. “Can we maybe not call it that?” 
“That's exactly what’s happening here.” You say with a snort. 
“Thanks for the help, Y/N.”
You give Robin a thumbs up. “Anytime.”
Erica announces that she’s in the air ducts and you feel the familiar burden of fear creep through you as she now goes quiet. Steve’s hand finds yours and he attempts to ease your discomfort as you all wait. “Erica will be fine, Y/N.”
“Yeah, totally!” Robin tries to reassure you as well, though she looks nervous too.
The minutes drag by at an agonizingly slow pace. The three of you hold your breath, waiting for Erica’s assurance that she’s safe and okay, and you pray to whatever god that’s up there to listen and keep her safe. 
If anything happens to her, it would only be your fault for not having learned your lesson sooner. 
“Alright, nerds.” You let out a breath of relief when Erica radios again, and you can feel Steve exhale as well. He’d been worried, too. “I’m there.”
“Do you see anything?” Robin asks, voice alight with excitement now. 
“Yeah, I see those boring boxes you’re so excited about.” 
“Any guards?”
Erica pauses a moment, presumably scanning for any signs of danger, before responding. “Negative.”
You breathe out again with relief. At the very least, Erica is in a safe enough location. 
However, Robin isn’t done asking questions yet. “Booby traps?”
“If I could see them, they’d be pretty shit traps, wouldn’t they?”
You grab the radio again from Robin. “Erica, have I told you that you’re my favorite child?”
“You haven’t, but I know I am,” there’s a bang over the other end of the walkie, then a loud thud followed by a grunt, before her voice comes through again. “I’m in.” Then, not even a minute later, the door to the vault begins to lift up, revealing a smug looking Erica on the other side. 
You all stare at her in awe, and she snaps her fingers at you. “Free ice cream for life.”
Steve lets out a surprised laugh and a smile crosses your face as well. Even though you’re still entirely against what’s happening, you can’t believe that the plan worked. You guys successfully broke into a Russian vault. 
That beats Demodogs any day. 
You, Steve, Robin, and Dustin climb down from the roof to get to Erica as fast as you can. When you finally join her, you risk her fury and pull her into your arms for a hug. “You’re so much braver than I was at ten.”
Erica shoves you off of her. “That doesn’t at all surprise me.” 
While you make sure she’s okay, Dustin and the others investigate the room. There’s boxes everywhere with tape all over them. Lifting one up onto a table, Steve turns to you. “Can I borrow that switchblade, Y/N?”
“She’s got it,” you point to Erica. “Talk to the kid.”
Steve frowns, having unexpected this, and, being scared of the girl, he laughs nervously. “Uh, Erica? Can I have that switchblade now?”
She rolls his eyes at him and digs through her pockets to retrieve it. “Aren’t you the man in the relationship? Why don’t you have your own pair of knives?”
You cover your mouth to try and stifle the laugh that escapes you, but it’s no use. Steve hears it and sticks his middle finger up at you before finally opening the box. Cutting through the tape, he opens the box’s flaps to find a metal storage container within them.
When Steve reaches his hand inside the box, you stop him. “Please, be careful.”
“I got this, angel.” However, he slows his movements and carefully grabs at the container’s handle. Slowly, he turns it, and it lets out a terrifying hiss as air escapes it. Removing the lid, more air comes crawling out and reveals four individual cylinders.
“Definitely not delicious noodles and sensible shoes.” You breathe out, and Steve hums in agreement.
“That’s a weird way of saying ��you were right, Dustin’.” Your brother snarks, and you hit his shoulder to shut him up.
Meanwhile, Steve waves his hand at the four of you, motioning you to back up. “Uh, maybe you guys should, you know, stand back.”
Robin and Erica don’t hesitate to listen, but you and Dustin remain where you are. There’s a silent agreement between the two of you to not abandon Steve, he needs you. When he sees that you both haven’t listened, Steve pleads with you. “Just step back, please? I’m doing this for you guys, this could be dangerous.”
“No.” You and Dustin say at the same time. 
Steve tries to argue again, but you remain firm in your stance. “I’m not leaving you. Ever.”
His words falter at the sincerity in your voice, and he wishes it was just the two of you alone right now so that he could stroke your cheek and kiss away your concerns. He’s filled with warmth by your care for him, but just like you would never put him in danger, Steve would never put you in any danger either. 
He loves you with everything within him, he just wishes he could tell you this. 
“If you die, I die.” Dustin proudly declares, breaking Steve out of his thoughts. 
You stare at your brother, as does Steve, and together the two of you awkwardly pat the kid’s shoulder to acknowledge his sentiment. With a cough, you add, “Hendersons with Harrington.”
Steve clears his throat, overwhelmed and slightly off put by the bizarre support. “Okay, I guess.” He grabs at one of the cylinders and twists slowly, and when it unlocks, he lifts and reveals a bubbling green liquid. “What the hell?”
Robin asks what the substance is and you feel like you’ve lost your mind. You have no idea what the fuck is happening anymore. “God I hope it’s scary Kool-Aid”
As soon as the words have left your mouth, you feel rumbling beneath your feet. 
Immediately, you know you’ve fucked up.
Dustin looks up at you in alarm. “Was that just me, or did the room move?”
“Booby traps,” Erica whispers, looking scared as well.
A mechanical whirring sound infiltrates your ears as the room starts to shake again, and every part of your body screams at you to run. Something is very, very wrong. Grabbing Dustin’s hand, you start to head towards the door. “We need to leave. Now.”
“Let’s go!” Robin follows you, not needing to be told twice, and grabs one of the vials of liquid as she does so. 
“Which one is the button, Erica?” Dustin asks, fingers hovering over the control panel’s buttons after pressing one failed.
“Just press the damn button, nerd.”
You turn to her, panic rising. “He is, but nothing’s happening.”
“Press ‘open door’.”
Dustin presses the button again but still, nothing happens. Frantic to escape the room now, you shove him aside and try yourself. Your fingers press roughly against it, but still the doors won’t budge. 
Steve joins, sliding next to you as he starts to try pressing the buttons. “Here, press the other button.”
You slap his hand. You’re overwhelmed and scared and anxious and he’s five seconds away from losing an eye. “I already did that!”
Dustin starts to argue with Steve now and they push you back, repeatedly hitting whatever they can touch, as Robin and Erica shout their own useless and unneeded advice that is helping absolutely no one. You stand behind the boys, hands pressed against your head as you start to hyperventilate with panic.
Then, walls come slamming down on all sides of the room, effectively kick starting your panic attack. The lights begin to flicker as the room suddenly drops. Your stomach lurches into your throat as you’re thrown downward, and instinctively you grab for Dustin in your panic as Steve grabs for you. 
Everyone screams as you plunge into the darkness.
-
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justmeinadaze · 7 months
Text
Secret Underneath (Steddie X Plus Size You)
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"She's got a secret underneath (she's got a secret underneath) Yeah, she's his naughty little freak (yeah, she's his naughty, little freak) She likes to put on a show (she likes to put on a show) She likes when he takes control (she likes when he takes control)"
A/N: This came from utter annoyance at men online and just desperately trying to find a confident man who cares.
ENJOY!
Warnings: Sugar Daddies Steve and Eddie/ Baby Fem Plus Size Reader, SMUT, daddy kink (cause im me), blindfold, toys, voyeurism (I guess. They watch her pleasure herself on cam), dirty talk. Sub/dom dynamics, oh um age difference even though its not mentioned (guys are about mid to late 30s and Reader is in her mid to late 20s)
ANGST, Reader is assaulted by an ex (mentioned but not expanded on) boys comfort her, mentions of her wanting to be held and tired of feeling lonely, guys online try to flirt in the beginning but she shuts them down. I think that's it. Cliffhanger ending because again...Im me.
Word Count: 5555 (ooooo :P)
“I can take care of a young little thing like you. You’re perfect”
“If I’m perfect why do I need someone to take care of me?”
“Do you want to help Daddy finish, baby? My big hard cock needs some help.”
“Oof a real Daddy doesn’t need to announce how big his cock is. Try again, little boy.”
“I bet a little girl like you needs to be put in her fucking place, you stupid fucking slut. Now get naked and send me nudes or else.”
You role your eyes as you promptly block the person who sent you the message. When you signed up for this sugar baby website you were hopeful to find someone who wasn’t like the “men” you had talked to on regular dating apps. You wanted someone who knew what they were doing, confident, and could handle your sass without running. 
You had met a few who could live up to the title but none you wanted to keep around long term. 
Sliding your mouse through the images, you found a profile that intrigued you. The image attached wasn’t of one man but two and it didn’t show their faces. It wasn’t odd for the Babies to want anonymity like yourself but your profile picture at least showed all of you in your curvy glory with a mask blocking your eyes and lingerie blocking everything else. Daddies always felt the need to show off so usually their profile images accentuated their faces and/or their money.
These two, with an account named Mogul/Rockstar, were only photographed from the neck down and it was definitely a picture they took, not some professional or anything like that. The man on the left had a black, well fitted suit with his admittedly gorgeous hands holding a glass of whiskey. The man on the right was a bit less put together with torn jeans and a blue jean vest over his bare chest just barely blocking the tattoos that peaked out. You assume he must have long hair because the ends of wavy locks rested on his shoulders.
When most men reached out to you it was with some silly pick-up line or innuendo. This profile, however, simply sent you one word; “Hello.”
(8:45pm) “Hey there. Not much for words?”
(8:47pm) “We imagine you’ve heard them all. : ). “
(8:48pm) “Are you really two people? Or do you just have an extra ego?”
(8:48pm) “Oh or let me guess! Your dick is so big it counts as another person.
(8:50pm) “I mean my friend IS a big dick but lol”
(8:51pm) “Yeah, honey, it’s really two people. We like to be clear about that. Any Baby that becomes ours would be just that; ours. 
(8:53pm) “We’ve learned pretty quickly not many women feel comfortable with two Daddies which is absolutely fine and why we are up front.”
(8:54pm) “How up front are you being really when you don’t show your face?”
(8:55pm) “Hm. Not a yes girl. I like that. It’s good to ask questions. 
(8:57pm) “We do that for a couple of reasons. One being we are well known faces so we don’t want a Baby to choose us solely on that.”
(8:57pm) “Because you don’t want to be embarrassed?”
(9:00pm) “Asking questions is good. Interrupting isn’t. Don’t do it again.”
(9:01pm) “Or what?”
(9:08pm) “Or what, huh?”
(9:15pm) “Fuck you! Ignoring isn’t very Daddy like!”
(9:16pm) “Oh? Did little baby get her feelings hurt? We don’t ignore as punishments but you aren’t ours yet, sweetheart. If you don’t want to follow any rules that’s fine. We can just continue looking and you can be a brat with someone else.”
(9:18pm) “I’m sorry.”
(9:19pm) “What’s the other reason?”
(9:22pm) “Actually, that’s the biggest reason. Our fame gets in the way of a lot of things if you can believe it. Expectations are ruined and certain ideals are put in place.”
(9:23pm) “My reputation as a rockstar makes some ladies think I can’t be soft and I definitely can. Our image isn’t solely who we are.”
(9:25pm) “I can understand that. Being a bigger girl people think I’m either desperate or my weight becomes a fetish to them. Which, I mean, fetishes are fine but men make me feel like…it’s the ONLY reason they are sexually attracted to me.”
(9:26pm) “And not because of your personality. Yeah…”
(9:28pm) “Is that why you’re a bit of a brat? Lol need to weed out the idiots?”
(9:30pm) “Something like that. Lol.”
(9:32pm) “Baby, I think my friend and I are in agreement that we’d like to try this out if you’re willing. You don’t have to see us or do anything you don’t want. Per the anonymity that was mentioned, we aren’t going to give our names so you don’t have too either. We also won’t be showing our faces so, again, you don’t have to.”
(9:33pm) “More than anything, we just want someone to look out for and talk to. Maybe make you feel good from time to time if you let us.”
(9:35pm) “Ok, Daddy.”
(9:36pm) “Good. Good girl. : ). We can talk on here until the three of us get more comfortable and then we can give you our numbers so you can talk to us there or individually. As you can imagine, rockstar travels a lot and so do I for deals so we aren’t always together 24/7.”
(9:40pm) “Are you both friends or partners?”
(9:42pm) “Friends for sure.”
(9:43pm) “Ok, baby girl, we’ll let you go but we’ll talk to you tomorrow. Get some sleep.”
(9:45pm) “Good night, Daddy.”
(9:46pm) “*Daddies”
(9:48pm) “Good night, honey.”
(9:48pm) “Sweet dreams, princess.”
As you laid in bed that night, you couldn’t help but wonder who they could be. You did some quick googling of businessmen who were friends with rockstars but that was stupid because that was a very common friendship found within industries. Rolling over, you plugged in your phone to charge it, pausing when you heard it ding.
Mogul/Rockstar deposited $300 into your account!!
Wow. No man had ever sent you that much just for an introductory conversation. Maybe because it was two of them they felt the need? As you drifted off to sleep, you found yourself getting more and more curious about them, dreaming of possibilities that may come to be.
############
That first month went by a lot smoother than you expected it to when it came to this account. They were incredibly kind and genuinely seemed to care about your day and what you were up to. Any time you voiced any kind of concern, they listened and did what they could. For example, you wished you could tell who was responding when since at the moment they replied as one. A few minutes later Rockstar changed his text to be red so you knew you were talking to him. 
When it came to finances, they were more than generous, giving you a set amount of $500 at the end of each day. They never once asked for anything sexual or made innuendos about their bodies or yours. 
As the second month began however you found yourself getting antsy.
(6:42pm) “May I ask a question?”
(6:43pm) “Yeah, of course, anything, honey.”
(6:45pm) “Can we do something…I mean can you help me…”
(6:46pm) “We can help with anything, princess. You just have to ask like a big girl.”
(6:47pm) “Can you…help me cum…”
(6:47pm) “Please, Daddy.”
(6:48pm) “We can do that for you, pretty girl. If you want. You remember the rules?”
(6:48pm) “Yes, Daddy.”
(6:49pm) “You don’t even have to turn on your camera or mic or anything. You can just…watch me.”
(6:50pm) “We never do anything we don’t want to do.”
(6:51pm) “But we would love to watch you cum. Do you have toys or were you just going to use your fingers?”
(6:53pm) “I have toys, Daddy.”
(6:54pm) “I actually just got this rabbit vibrator but I have no idea how to use it.”
(6:57pm) Mogul/ Rockstar has invited you for a video chat.
Biting your bottom lip, you grab your mask and pull it over your eyes, checking your appearance in the camera box before clicking their link. The camera box was still just their image from the site which you expected but was pleasantly surprised when a husky voice flowed through your speakers. 
“Hey, honey. You don’t have to turn your mic on if you don’t want to. We just thought it would be fair since you’re about to vulnerable with us.”
You smiled as you turned on your microphone. 
“Is it vulnerable? It’s just…masturbating right?”
“I mean, are you playing with yourself on the internet for just anyone?”
The second voice that followed through sounded extremely familiar as if you heard it somewhere before. It was incredibly sexy none the less. 
“No.”
“Then I would say you’re being vulnerable, babe. Jesus, you are really beautiful by the way.”
“Thank you, Daddy.”, you beam.
“Can we ask why shorts and an oversized shirt? Most women wear the lingerie or a bra and panties.”
“Or are totally naked.”
“I just want to be comfortable. I’m not roaming around my house in a bra and panties.”, you giggle. “I take those off as soon as I get home from work.”
“Very fair. We’ve never asked what you do. Do you feel comfortable telling us?”
“I’m a teacher. Another reason for said anonymity.”
“Again fair.”
“Um, may I ask, whose voice is whose?”
“Yeah, pretty girl. I’m the Mogul.”
“I’m the rockstar.”
Smiling, you nod but you find yourself completely unsure of how to proceed. Usually, you could play innocent and do what you needed in the bedroom but something about these men were making you…
“Honey, are we making you a little nervous?”, Mogul asked in a sweet tone. 
“Yeah a little bit. I’m sorry.”
“No reason to be sorry, sweetheart. Can you do your Daddies a favor and show us the toy you got?”
Like a little kid in a store, your smile grew as you opened the box by your feet and produced the pink vibrator, displaying it for them to see.
“Is that your favorite kind of toy?”
“Usually men are but—” You quickly covered your mouth with your palm not meaning to let your sass slip out like that. Again, you were surprised when you heard both men laugh.
“I like that sassy attitude.”
“The confidence to.”, Mogul adds. “Don’t cover up that personality for us, baby girl. We’re big boys. We can handle it.”
“Most men can’t.”
“Most men aren’t us.”
“That’s for damn sure.”, you smirk as your thighs rub together. 
“Why don’t you take off those short for us, sweetheart?”, Rockstar suggests as you nod, rising from your chair to bring them down and toss them aside. “Good girl. Can you open your legs for us so we can see that pretty pussy?”
Licking your lips, you close your eyes as your open your legs giving them a good view. 
“Open your eyes, baby girl, and don’t move them from the camera.”, Mogul commands in a firm tone. “Jesus, man. I bet she tastes really fucking sweet.”
“And is really fucking tight. That toy is going to stretch you out I bet.”
You moan at their words as you tease your slit with the end of the vibrator.
“I wish you both were here to help me.”, you whine as you palm slides under your shirt to massage your breast. 
“Go ahead, honey. Push it into your cunt and tell us how it feels.”
Mewling, you easily guide it inside of you, the subtle vibration against your clit driving you crazy.
“Fuck, it feels so good, Daddy.”
“Yeah, princess? Fuck, I’ve never wanted to eat a pussy so bad in my life. Look at her. I just want her to ride my face till she cums over and over.”
“Fuck…yes.”
“You’d like that, baby? Make a mess all over Rockstar’s face.”
“Yes, Daddy.”
“Such a dirty little girl. Can you say it for us?”
“I’m…I’m a dirty girl. Fuck, Daddy, it feels so good inside of me.”
“Fuck, baby girl. You’re so fucking sexy. Make yourself cum.”
“Can I, Daddy? Please. I’m so close.”
“Yeah, sweetheart. You have our permission.”
Your body shook as you came, your hips grinding against the toy as you elongated your high. 
“Good girl, honey. Very good. Come back to us.”
“Th-thank you. Thank you.”, you grin as you bite your lip. “Wait, did you guys cum? I wanna hear it.”
“This was about you, babe. We didn’t touch ourselves.”
“Doesn’t change the fact that we’re really fucking hard though after that display.”, Rockstar laughed.
“Are you serious? You guys didn’t…at all. Most men do.”
The image in their camera box suddenly changes and their laps from the waist down come into your view. Both men were wearing shorts and you could vaguely see their bulges poking through. Their hands were gorgeous, one littered with rings that you assumed belonged to the rockstar. 
“Again…we aren’t most men.”
“Don’t make us have to remind you again.”
Nodding, you softly apologize as you lean back in your chair.
“What’s wrong, baby? Are you pouting?”, Mogul asks in a tone that makes you smile. 
“Not really. I just…I wish you could hold me.”
“Yeah…yeah, princess, we wish we could to.”
“Will you ever trust me enough to show me your faces?”
You listen as they heavily sigh.
“Maybe. Let’s just take this one step at a time, ok?”
After your good nights and lying in bed alone, you don’t know why but you begin to cry. You had been alone for so long, broken hearted from the bullshit your ex put you through. You loved what the site offered but you wondered if that momentary high would be enough to sustain you. You just wanted someone who would hold you and tell you everything was alright. Someone who would take care of you and make you feel safe so you didn’t have to worry anymore about…everything. 
As your phone dinged, you glanced at the notification that illuminated your screen. 
Mogul/Rockstar deposited $2000 into your account!!
Hardening your heart, you reminded yourself that you were strong, squeezing your eyes tightly shut as you forced yourself to sleep. 
##############
(6:15pm) “Hey beautiful. What are your plans tonight? Rockstar and I were thinking maybe the three of us could have a camera date and just talk. Nothing sexual.”
(6:17pm) “You don’t have to of course.”
(6:20pm) “Sweetheart, you know how we feel about you not answering.”
(6:25pm) “Shit, you guys. I’m so sorry. I was charging my phone while I was getting ready! I actually have plans tonight.”
(6:27pm) “Ooo that sounds like fun. Spending some time with friends?”
(6:29pm) “Not exactly lol My ex actually invited me to dinner so we could talk about some things.”
(6:30pm) “You’re going on a date?”
(6:32pm) “Um, I guess you can call it that.”
(6:32pm) “Is that a problem?”
(6:33pm) “We made it clear that if you agreed to be our Baby you would be ours.”
(6:34pm) “Virtually, yes, but the information and rules you gave me didn’t say I couldn’t go out on a date. 
(6:35pm) “What. Did you think I was just going to be ok with not knowing who you two were and never having you two fuck me or hold me. 
(6:35pm) “To not go on actual dates and feel wanted.
(6:36pm) “Needed.”
(6:38pm) “Didn’t realize you needed everything spelled out for you. Relationships take time. Like you we imagine, we’ve been burned before. We don’t want another whore who’s only dating us for our money or status. We deal with fake people enough!”
(6:39pm) “We like talking to you and you’re so beautiful. We WANT to see where this goes but if you’re in that much of a rush maybe this was a bad idea.”
This Baby is currently offline. You may leave messages for her and she will get this when she logs back in!!
***
(9:32pm) CurvyBabyWAttitude has invited you for a video chat!!
(9:34pm) Mogul/Rockstar declined your invitation for a video chat.
(9: 35pm) “Please…I need you…”
(9:38pm) “Now you need us? After your date I’m thinking didn’t go well since it’s 9:30.”
(9:39pm) “Try again, little girl. We aren’t the kind of men you use whenever you feel like.”
(9:41pm) “We have feelings to.”
(9:45pm) “What? No sassy come back? Nothing sarcastic you want to say?”
(9:50pm) Mogul/Rockstar has invited you for a video chat!!
“Jesus Christ. What happened, baby?!”
When you illuminated their screen, you were a complete mess. Your hair was frayed every which way and even under the mask covering your eyes they could tell your make up was smeared from tears. Your black dress that you had worn was torn at the sleeve, hanging down as you held it together with your hand. 
“Did that fucker hurt you?”, Rockstar growled. 
“I’m sorry. I didn’t know who to call. I’m so sorry, Daddy. I should have stayed here with you. I’m just so tired of feeling lonely. As soon as that fucker showed me even a little bit of attention I just…”
You listened as they mumbled to each other, unable to make out what they were saying as you dried your tears with your fist. 
“We’re in New York right now. Are you close to that state?”
“Y-Yes?”
“Do you trust us? Say it.”, Mogul replies sternly when you nod.
“Yes, I trust you.”
“There’s a hotel outside of the city. I’ll message you the address and room number. You follow the instructions we give you to the letter. Do I make myself clear?”
“Yes, Daddy.”
***
“Hi, um, I’m checking into a room…under, um, Baby Girl.”
You cringe as you relay the information but all the young lady does behind the hotel counter is beam over at you as she types on her computer. 
“Ah and here’s your key. Do you need an escort or anything?”
“Oh, uh, no, ma’am, thank you.”
“No problem! The gentleman said he would be right there.”
You glanced around you nervously as you rode the glass elevator up to the floor your room was at. You appreciated that they didn’t make you go to some run-down Bates Motel but you were still a bit on edge. 
Heading for the door, you paused taking a deep breath before putting in the key and slowly entering the room. It was a modest little room but lived up to its five-star rating just on looks alone. Shifting your gaze, you realized quickly you were alone but noticed a note with the words “Baby Girl” on the mattress. 
Lifting it up, you found a black silk eye mask one would use for sleeping folded underneath. 
“Please place this mask over your eyes and we will be right in. 
We know it took a lot of trust for you to drive out here so we’re trying to meet you halfway.”
Taking a seat, you sighed as you tried to put the thing over your head, struggling a bit as a bruise had begun to form where your ex tugged at your dress. 
The sound of the door clicking and swinging slowly open caught your attention as you froze in place. 
“Um, f-full disclosure, my eyes are closed as well. I couldn’t get this thing further down and I could see under the—” You point at the bottom of the mask as the door closed. 
Cologne filled your nostrils as footsteps walked closer to you. 
“Is it ok if I touch you so I can fix it?”
Your head tilted to the side at the sultry, smooth voice just above you.
“Yeah…who-who is this?”
“I’m the mogul in our name. Rockstar is on his way.”
“Were you two not together?”
You feel the atmosphere shift as he kneels in front of you and his fingers gently hold your head as he adjusts the mask to be more comfortable.
“We were but he wanted to stop and grab some things in the lobby. How does that feel?”
“Better, thank you.”
He withdrawals his hands but he doesn’t move as you feel his eyes scanning you over. Braving crossing a boundary, your hands carefully reach out and find his cheeks. Taking a hold of your wrists, Mogul helps guide your movement over his fluffy hair making you smile at how soft it is. When your thumb finds his lips, he exhales heavily and his warm breath has your pussy clenching around nothing. 
Abruptly, the door beeps and opens again as the smell of cigarettes fills the room.
“Do you know how hard it is to find ice in this goddamn palace!?”
Your head tilts again as you try to follow the new voice as he moves about the room. 
“And that would be the rockstar.”, the man in front of you assures as he pats your thigh and sits beside you. As he goes to release your hand, you immediately reach for him again, afraid of being in the dark now that they were here.
“Next building you buy should be a fucking hotel so you can put things where us humans can find them.”
You hear what sounds like someone being lightly hit as everything becomes silent again. 
“Hey, sweetheart. Sorry. My mouth tends to move before my brain does.”, he replies in your direction at a bit of a calmer register as he bounces on to the bed beside you. “God, asshole got you good, huh? Ok, this is going to be cold.”
You yelp and wince when something freezing lands on your arm. 
“I searched for like an actual icepack but I guess the 5 stars don’t include first aid.”
“Ok! I get it. You’re not used to fancy places, dude. Jesus.”
Rockstar laughs through his teeth making you smile again as your free hand reaches towards where you assume he is. Your fingers touch hair first and your eyebrows scrunch together as you realize you found the ends just above his shoulder. 
“Yeah, I, uh, wouldn’t run my fingers through that. It’s all tangled. You may get stuck and have to stay with us forever.”, he chuckles before it trails off. 
You can feel them both watching you as your palm finds his cheek and like with his friend your thumb moves along his bottom lip. They were a bit more chapped but based on the smell you assumed that was due to the cigarettes. As your hand began to travel down his neck, you paused and pulled away not wanted to make either man uncomfortable. 
“I’m sorry.”, you mumble.
“What are you sorry for, honey?”
“I don’t mean to be…that much of a brat, you know. I like talking to you both to and I want to see where this goes but…I guess I’m like him sometimes.” You pause as you gesture towards the rockstar. “My mouth moves before my brain. I’ll understand if you don’t want to be my Daddies anymore.”
Both men were silent for what felt like an eternity before the ice was removed from your skin and replaced by lips. A pleasant sigh escaped you as he tenderly kissed your bruises.
“Why did you ex hurt you?”, Mogul asked.
“Because he’s a fucker.”
“Yeah, we gathered that.”, Rockstar teased as he leaned away from you but intertwined your fingers with his. 
“He, uh, took me on a date to this tacky little restaurant that I told him a million times I hate and then on the drive home he insinuated because he took me out I’d want to…you know.”, you exhale as your head hangs. “I’m just so tired of being lonely. I just want someone to take care of me. ME. Not the supposed ‘whore who needs to be put in her place’ or ‘the desperate big girl’. I’m strong and I can take care of myself. I’m just…tired.”
Fingers tenderly moved your hair behind on of your ears. 
“God, I love your attitude.”
“It’s not uncommon for us to constantly run into ‘yes’ people. It’s one of the problems we have with Babies. Always ‘Yes, Daddy.’ Or ‘Of course, Daddy.’ Sometimes we can’t tell if it’s them being genuine or pandering to us to get what they want. Which…I guess is fine but…”
“Not what we’re looking for.”
Your hands search for Mogul’s face and he grins as he leans in allowing you to touch him. When your lips find his, however, he hastily pulls back and rises to his feet. 
“Hey, no, honey. You don’t have to do that. That’s not why we came down here.”
You feel yourself start to panic, losing your bearings since you can’t see. You had gotten used to them both being next to you and when he stood up you suddenly felt lost. 
“I’m right here, princess. You’re ok. Everything’s ok.”, Rockstar murmurs in your ear as he squeezes your thigh.
“You don’t want to fuck me?”, you ask to the void, unsure of exactly where the other man may be. 
A deep, guttural groan echoes in front of you as you turn your head towards it.
“I’ve never wanted something or someone so bad in my life, baby, but… that’s not why we came here.”
“He doesn’t want you to feel used. Your ex tried to do that and he doesn’t want you to feel like we’re the same.”
“I don’t. I don’t feel that way at all, Daddy.” Your voice had dropped into that little girl tone as you fully allowed yourself to be vulnerable for them. “Please…”
Lips connected to yours again but the taste was different. The nicotine that lingered on his tongue mixed with the slight taste of mint toothpaste set your body on fire as it fully came to life and you wrapped your arms around the man’s neck as he gently tilted you onto your back.
The bed dipped on your other side and you disconnected from one set of lips to another. You became lost in his kisses as his tongue danced with yours and their hands roamed your skin. 
“We’re going to be gentle tonight, baby girl. Let us take care of you.”
You allowed them to undress you and waited patiently as they removed their own clothes. Lying on either side of you, they each lifted one of your legs over their hips as their lips and tongues sucked on your neck.
Rockstar’s fingers glided through your folds and you groaned loudly as he massaged circles into your clit. While running your hand through his hair, Mogul licked and sucked on one of your nipples making your hips buck as you searched for more friction. 
“Please.”
“What do you want, sweetheart? You want my fingers?”
“Yes, Daddy, please.”
His nose presses against your cheek, his mouth opening in a silent moan as he effortlessly guides two of his digits inside of your core. 
“Fuck. I was right. You are tight. Jesus, sweetheart, our cocks are going to stretch you open, baby.”
“Can…Can I have you both?”
“Can you handle that?”, Mogul asked with a slight whine of want. 
“Yeah, Daddy. I can, I promise.”
“Baby girl, I don’t think you understand what you’re asking for.”, he chuckles and you listen as he sucks on what you assume is his fingers. “You may think we’re cocky but trust us we’ve earned the right to be.”
You suck in a breath as you twist your hips and feel two long thick fingers pushed into your ass as both men thrust their digits into you. 
“Oh…my…”
“Can a little girl like you handle your Daddy’s big cocks inside of you at the same time?”
Your hands cling to the man in front of you as you passionately kiss him, his tongue catching your moans as you tremble and trench his fingers as you cum. 
“Y-Yes, I can…I can handle it.”
They abruptly sit up and manhandle you around the bed, Mogul’s arms holding you tightly as he places himself on the edge of the mattress with his legs hanging off the side. Just as you had, his palm comes up to caress your face as his thumb traces your lips. 
“You’re so beautiful, baby.” You softly smile at the sincerity in his voice while he circles your arms around his neck. “Just hang on to Daddy, ok? We got you.”
His hair tickles your nose as he tilts his head and grips his cock between your bodies. 
“Shit, um, I almost forgot. Is it ok…I don’t think we have condoms.”
“It’s ok. I’m protected and I’m clean. You can cum inside me…if you want to…”
“Fuck, sweetheart, you’re going to kill us. Ok, go ahead and baby let me know when you’re ready for me.”
“Yes, sir.”
You feel his mushroom tip tease your entrance making you both moan. 
“Take your time, honey. I got you.”
As you slowly descend onto him, he sucks in a breath as your fingers thread through his hair. 
“So big. Fuck, Daddy.”
“How does she feel, man?”
“Mmpf, tight. That’s it. You’re almost there.”
When you’re fully seated on top of him, his forehead leans to rest on yours as his humid breath fans your face. The action causes you to clench around him and he grunts in pleasure.
“Hang on to me.”, he whispers as he tips back onto his hands tilting you with him. 
Rockstar spits in his palm behind you and you mewl as he rubs it between your cheeks.
“Are you ready, princess?”
“Yes, Daddy, I’m ready.”
Holding your ass open, he gradually slides into you.
“Oh fuck. I wasn’t expecting… goddamn baby girl.”
Ringed fingers take hold of your bicep as both men thrust into you at the same time hitting every spot inside of you that has you melting into them. 
“Oh my God. Yes!”
“Yeah, baby? Fuck, dude. I don’t know how—mmm—how long I’m gonna last. Her ass feels so good.” A hand slaps your behind making you moan as another strong palm grips the back of your thigh guiding your movements as you bounce back into theirs. 
Lips in front of you open mouth kiss your chest up to your neck as you push them closer to your skin. 
“Please. Fuck, Daddy! M’gonna cum.”
Slamming their hips up to meet yours, your body quivers as the coil snaps.
“Atta girl, honey! Making a mess all over our cocks and coming hard like that. So fucking sexy.”
Clinging to them tightly, you allowed them to use you to chase their highs. The man behind you warms your insides first, grunting as his rhythm falters. The man in front of you soon follows thrusting his spend deep inside of you.
“We’re going to pull out, sweetheart, ok?”
“Ok, Daddy.”
After carefully removing themselves, you feel yourself being lifted into the air and spun around before being placed on soft pillows. A wet rag cleans you and you pleasantly sigh as you curl under the covers that were placed over your body. 
“Are you both going to stay?”
Cool metal touches your skin as a hand pets your head. 
“Do you want us to?”
“I promise I won’t look.”
Warmth encases you as they lay on either side, murmuring praises as you steadily fall asleep. 
#################
When you woke up the next morning you were alone, finding a note on the nightstand that said they thought it best to leave before you woke up but that the room was yours for as long as you need and to message them when you made it home. 
You did what they requested but decided to utilize the rest of your Sunday for yourself thinking about everything that happened. You heard your phone pinging but you didn’t want to talk to anyone wishing you could call in that following Monday. Unfortunately, you made a promise to a friend, you couldn’t break. 
“Y/N, honey, are you alright?”, your colleague asks as she lightly elbows your side. 
“I’m fine. Just an interesting weekend.”
“Alright, guys so this where all the important decisions are made.”, the building tour guide obnoxiously smiled as she guided the class around the office space. “Let’s see if the boss is available.”
“Well thank you for chaperoning with me. When Mrs. Ludwig cancelled I thought I would have to reschedule.”
“No problem. I know nothing about business and economics but…”, you giggle. 
“Holy shit!”
“Mark!”, your friend shouts. “Watch your mouth! Jesus!”
“Mrs. Raymond, it’s Eddie Munson. The guitarist from Corroded Coffin!”
Turning your head in that direction, you realize two men are staring your way, one of them indeed the famous rockstar. 
Rockstar…
Blinking you tilt your head as you notice the rings on his fingers.
That voice. I knew that voice.
“It’s not uncommon for us to see Mr. Munson around here. Him and Mr. Harrington have been friends for a long time. Right, sir?”, the tour guide asks.
“Steve Harrington? The business mogul?”
Mogul…
“See, Y/N. You know some things about the business world.”, your friend grins. 
As the world around you seems to slow down to a halt, you three continue to stare at each other as you figure out where to go from here.
685 notes · View notes
222col · 17 days
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girl i just discovered your blog and i've read all of your work and let me tell you YOU'RE LITERALLY ONE OF THE BEST WRITERS ON THIS APP. I don't know if i can suggest a fanfic idea but can you write something about Stanford Art being your fwb and whenever you had sex he would hint/joke about wanting to take you out and have a committed relationship and you're always acting oblivious and since he's been doing it so many times you decide to end the whole thing. And to get you back Art decides to use your jealousy over him to his advantage. So whenever he knows you're around at college you would find him talking and laughing with one of the girls you hate so your possessive side takes over you and later that night you decide to go to his dorm and punish the brat he is and maybe end up accepting to finally be his girlfriend
im fr blushing 🫣 thank u so much bestie boo <3
"wanna make you mine," art groans out, mid thrust. "i am yours." your nails clawing down his spine, smirking up to his face. art has to physically hold back from rolling his eyes. not what i meant, he'd think. "let me take you out." he asks, putting his t-shirt back on. "we are out?" you laugh, shimmying your jeans back up your legs. "we're in the car park of applebee's." the eye roll can't be held back this time. flinging his head back onto the headrest in the backseat, his arm resting behind your head on the top of the car seat. "c'mon, you know what i mean." art sighs out, turning his head to look at you. "art, let's not do this. you know it would never work." ouch.
"can you just drive me home, please?" you'd sigh, climbing into the passenger seat, looking back to him. "yeah, whatever." he scoffs, climbing into the front seat. the drive back is silent, apart from the radio quietly playing. parking up outside your dorm, turning off the car before looking over to you. "let's just leave it here, yeah?" you breathe out, unbuckling your seatbelt and looking over to art. he raises his eyebrow, as if to question your meaning. "i don't think we should see each other anymore." you half shrug, biting your bottom lip. art just scoffs, shaking his head as he looks out the windscreen. "sorry art, but i think it's for the best." you smile, opening the car door. "yeah whatever, bye." art says through gritted teeth, his knuckles white from his heavy grip on the steering wheel. "see you around, art." he hears before the closing of the door, slamming his palms against the wheel as soon as you've gone. "fuck!"
your friendship circles are close, so there's a lot of crossovers, at parties, library meets, hang outs. the first time you saw art again after ending things was during a study date with your friends. walking into the library, smiling weakly at him, his eyes rolling in response. setting down your books as his arm immediately drapes around the girl to his left, scoffing as you start studying for your classes. it becomes a regular thing, always a girl hanging off of him whenever you're around. hearing giggles at his jokes, girls on his lap at parties, his lips smashed into someone else's an hour later. you'd never admit how much it was getting to you, you hadn't seen anyone else since art. jealous, that's how you felt. it was almost primal, possessive, how jealous you felt. but you ended it, so technically, you couldn't be mad. you'd only ended things because you were scared, scared of commitment, of being hurt. but, you had to live with the fact that you had ended it.
you were out at a bar with a group of friends, two beers in when art arrives, with yet another girl hanging off his arm. a girl he knows for a fact you can't stand. his eyes staring into you as he sits down, pulling her onto his lap, hearing those grating giggles from her as he does. his hands around her waist, blue eyes on you. physically shifting your body to face away from him, breathing sharply, trying to remain composed during your conversation. watching his hands caress the exposed skin of her midriff, shaking your head into your drink. he goes so far as to kiss her neck at the table, looking straight to you as he does. little shit knows exactly what he's doing. "real mature." you mouth across the table to him, only for him to air kiss back to you across the table. after a couple more drinks, everyone heads home, your blood boiling as you walk into your dorm room. sitting down on the edge of your bed, having met your end in ability to look past what he's doing. pulling out your phone, bringing up art's contact.
you: are u at ur dorm??
art: yeah, why?
immediately putting your phone in your back pocket, strutting with speed over to his dorm building. slightly out of breath by the time you arrive, banging on his door. hearing scrambling behind the door before it opens, his blonde locks meeting you. he smirks slightly, before his face is cupped your hands, lips smashing against him as you push into his room. art pushes the door closed behind you, hands gripping the fabric around your waist. "what are you doing?" he whispers against your lips, shushing him as you push him down onto the bed. "do you want me to stop?" you ask, climbing over his body, knees on either side of his thighs. looking down to him, propped up on his elbows. "n-no." he manages to get out, already looking dishevelled underneath you. "then shut up." you tease, pulling your t-shirt over your head, leaning down to attack your lips to his again. art whimpers against your mouth, hands moving to roam over the exposed skin on your back. almost immediately you're grabbing his wrists from behind you and pinning them down to the bed above his head. "you don't get to touch." he's pouting, looking up to you with pleading eyes. "why not?"
"because you've been touching every girl that moves." you tighten the grip on his wrists as he smirks, knowing his game worked, of trying to make you jealous. rolling your hips against him, removing your grip on his wrists to pull his t-shirt over his head. kissing down his jaw, his neck, working your way down to his stomach. crawling your body down his, undoing the buttons of his jeans, looking up to him through your lashes. pulling down the zipper at snails pace, before pushing his jeans and boxers down his legs. placing wet kisses all around his stomach, the top of his legs, the inside of his thighs. art's a whimpering mess, desperate for your touch, hips bucking up slightly. placing one sloppy kiss to his tip before moving away. art's head flinging back into his pillow as you do, smirking down to him as you push your own jeans down your legs. "oh sorry, did you think i was gonna suck your dick after you've been whoring around campus?" you're smirking down to him, your now naked body straddling his waist. pink blush floods his cheeks, furrowing his brows up to you, pout on his lips. "i- i haven't." he's pleading with you, hands creeping up your legs, to rest on your thighs. "didn't touch any of them. ju- just,"
your fingers are in his mouth, pushing two of your digits onto his tongue, his mouth widening as you do. "just what?" you smirk, pulling your fingers from his mouth, holding his jaw tightly. "just wanted to make you jealous." he pouts, hips bucking up again. "you're such a brat." you smirk, pushing your thumb into his mouth as he sucks on it instinctively. leaning back, lining art's cock up with your entrance, before sinking down onto him. his grip on your thighs tightens, eyes fluttering shut as he hums against your thumb. grinding yourself against him, moans slipping from your mouth, moving your hands to rest on his chest. "fuck, missed you." art grumbles, moving his hips along with your rhythm. smiling down at him, watching his eyes flutter, his swollen lip between his teeth.
art's hand comes down to thumb at your clit, rubbing slow circles against you, smirking up as he hears his name fall off your lips. art's cock curls against your walls as you grind against him, his length hitting your g-spot with every movement. the mixture of sensation stretching the band in your stomach tighter, leaning down to kiss art's lips, his grip on your thigh moving to your hips, guiding you as he thrusts up to meet you, fucking you faster. groans fall into each others mouths, bodies sheen with layers of sweat. his blonde curls sticking to his forehead, sloppily kissing each other as you both push each other closer to the edge. "fuck- i'm so close." you mumble into art's mouth, hands wrapping around the hairs of his scalp. art moans louder, feeling you clench around his cock. his mouth licking down your jaw as he suckles on the skin on your neck, feeling you come undone on his shaft. "mmph, m'gonna cum." art mumbles, his thrusts becoming sloppy as he paints your walls, his cum dripping down over him as he slides out of you.
collapsing down on top of him, your legs feeling like jelly, both of you breathless. sinking onto your side, laying down next to art, eyes locked on each other as your breathing returns to normal. art leans to push your hair off of your forehead, smiling to you as his hand rests on your cheek. "will you please, let me make you mine." he half laughs, his thumb stroking your skin. smiling as you roll your eyes jokingly to him. "what, like be your girlfriend?" you giggle, caressing the skin on his hipbone. "yes, my god, i've been trying to ask you for months." he shakes his head, laughing before looking back into your eyes, waiting for your answer. smiling shyly as you simply nod your head. "is that a yes?" he smiles, tickling your sides. "yes!" you reply through your chuckles. "i'll be your girlfriend." art smiles wide, rolling on top of your body. "fucking finally." he mumbles onto your lips, kissing you tenderly. "you could have just asked." you giggle into his mouth. "you're unbelievable."
266 notes · View notes
kadwrites · 1 year
Text
deja vu | T.S
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or check out the series masterlist
summary; how well do we really know the people we love?
warnings ; dark!tommy, minor character death, description of violence , mentions of murder, arranged marriage!trope , slow burn, fem!reader
a/n ; please let me know what you think!
-
you tilted your head and frowned , you're both standing at the garrison.
"tommy..." you mumbled in protest
"i know" he nodded "it'll be very short."
you clicked your tongue and then huffed "if you take longer than ..... 30 minutes i'm leaving."
"ya won't."
"get out of my sight." you muttered , taking a sip of your drink.
you sighed, looking over at the place. it was fairly busy, but not stuffy. sounds of chatter and men laughing echoing around, the lighting is dim. you made your way to the booth you were in, sitting down , eyeing your drink.
"when i heard tommy was marrying again, i would've never thought it's celest's little sister that he's trapped."
you recognized the voice before even processing the words, you look up, your brows raised and smiling in disbelief "lizzie?"
she's standing there, looking over at you. her blue eyes studying every inch of your face, a face she hadn't seen in a long time. and you hadn't expected to see her here , of all places.
"what are ya doing?" she speaks softly. you know the tone, you get the meaning; what are you doing with someone like him ?
you stand up, your gaze never leaves her , still smiling. "lizzie... i've not seen ya in so long..."
since she got involved with tommy , that is. lizzie and celest knew each-other , went to school together. lizzie would sometimes stay over , whenever your mother felt she wouldn't be safe otherwise. until the war.
she chuckles, "ya 'ave your mother to thank for that."
you chuckled too, still looking at her. "how did ya know about it?"
she gives you a look, her dark brow raised "everyone knows. i just didn't know it would be someone like *you*"
you lick your lips, "lizzie i know ya two share.... a history"
she scoffs , a bitter smile on her lips "i don't resent ya for this, i wouldn't." she shakes her head "i 'ave given up on 'im... a long time ago." her eyes look away for a moment before landing on you "whatever ya think of 'im, whatever ya believe he is , he's not." she speaks with conviction.
you don't reply to that, you're just trying to know what she means by it.
"thomas shelby doesn't know love like we do, what he knows is ownership." she chuckles bitterly, "learned what that meant the hard way. but ya shouldn't go through what i did." she shakes her head softly
"i don't understand...."
she stays silent for a moment "consider this a warning from a friend, this man , *will ruin you* , and when that 'appens ya will not recognize who you've become but he.... he will remain the same, unchanged not matter how hard ya try. he will always be what he always was, no love in the world can heal whatever is broken in 'im."
"ya don't understand, lizzie." you speak finally, "this isn't simple, for either of us. i can't leave"
"ya can't or ya won't?"
"i..." you pause for a moment, letting out a chuckle "i can't."
she studies your face , nodding "what does celest think? what does oliver think?"
"they're not thrilled."
"i know 'im more than most." she adds "and if i
knew what i do now when i first met 'im....." she looks away "i came here because i knew you'd be here and to tell ya that ya can come to me... if ya ever need help."
she places a hand on your arm, looking at you one more time before turning and making her way out of the garrison.
"she was always a nice girl" your mother sighed, taking a bite of her food
you and celest look at eachother before looking back at her,
celest knew why lizzie talked to you , and so did the rest of your family
"where's abraham?" you nod towards anna
she shrugged , "he had to do something before coming here"
"ya knew who i dreamt of?" your father pointed his fork at you "that teller boy, jeremy was it?. it was the strangest thing , i tell ya"
all the women at the table tried to stay neutral, keep their reactions to a minimum, you try to hide your uncomfortable reaction behind your glass of water "it is strange"
the whole table looks towards the front door, the sound of the door slamming open and not slamming back closed, and the heavy rushed footsteps
"i need to talk to ya," he appears in the living room doorway. he puts his hands on his hips, breathing heavily as if he ran to the house. he's disheveled, he pushed his glasses back on his nose with a shaky hand
"jeremy teller is dead." he speaks in a hushed voice, looking around to check that no one is listening, both of you standing in your parents bedroom. he didn't want anyone to hear , especially not renee or she might just give birth on the spot.
"what? no he's not." you laugh, looking at him. waiting for him to finish his joke
he looks at you, wiping a hand over his face. he looks at you "he's fucking dead."
your laugh falters slowly as you look at him, your face twitching with different emotions "how ? when? how do you know about it?"
"i heard. they found 'im murdered," he tries to not speaks too loudly "his throat was slit"
you can feel your blood go cold "do they know who killed 'im?"
he tilts his head, his hands still shaking as they rest on his hips. "ya know who killed 'im."
"no....no." you shake your head, laughing again in disbelief "no no no, no" you look away and step back, putting a hand over your forehead "that's impossible."
"listen to me" he grabs your shoulders, turning you to look at him "he did it, all of small heath knows he did and ya do too."
"no , he wouldn't." you shake your head again, your heart beating so fast you can hear it. "why would he do that? he wouldn't ."
he moves you gently, sitting you down on the chair in your parents room. he kneels , his hands move to your face "what do ya wanna do now ?"
the room feels so stuffy, you can hardly breath.
"i don't know." your chest feels like it might collapse. you try to stand up, but you can barely feel your legs, you try to blink away the darkness that takes over your vision.
but you knew it was coming, the darkness does take over.
here you are again, staring at that portrait that hangs opposite of your bed. you're filled with dread , fear and even anger , your eyes trace the portrait that you've already memorized.
your head on the pillow, your sister sniffling is another reminder, like a deja vu of that cursed night.
but you can see someone else in your peripheral vision sitting in the chair , those cold blue eyes cannot be missed. its as if his presence filled the room with a cold sort of air.
you try to get up,
"lay down"
"i don't want to." you mumble, letting out a breath as you lean your back against your bed frame. your eyes still on the painting, you don't even glance his way.
"feeling better?" his voice sounds colder than you ever remember it being. the smell of the cigarette smoke making you close your eyes shut, making your head spin. you reach for the glass of water on your bedside table, your hands quiver as you bring it to your lips
"yes" you put the glass back down
"ya look pale"
"hmm"
you can't shake that feeling, you're scared of looking at him and seeing the same view you did that day, the blood on his hands.
"ya killed 'im." you're almost muttering to yourself,
he doesn't answer you, and you don't ask again. you finally peel your eyes off of the old painting, glancing at him. the look on his face gave you the answer that you already knew.
he looks so calm , so collected , almost wicked. "are ya scared now?"
and it was your turn to not answer his question, but your eyes never leave his.
"did ya do it yourself?"
"yes" he looks right back at you "you're already aware of what i can do"
you just shut your eyes, your hands shake as they grip into the covers
"forgetting it is your fault, not mine." his voice sounds again
you don't even remember the rest of that day, his words were replying in your head.
you snap out of that trance a day later, you're in the living room on the chair by the window. you look straight at the window as your mind tries to make sense of everything, and then a figure down the street catches your eyes and you feel a switch go off in your head.
i have eyes around here.
and you realize , probably ears too.
your clothes swish as you run out of the living room towards your parents' room, your mother running behind you. the old wooden floor cried under your rushed footsteps
"what happened?"
you don't even hear her, you don't process what she's saying. you pull out the box from under their bed, you rummage through it , pulling out your dad's revolver.
the cold metal of the gun feels like it's burning through your flesh
"what the fuck are ya doing? where did ya get that?" oliver yells , his eyes opened wide as tries to run after you too.
the whole house freezes, all of them just still as if the slightest movement would set that gun off
you push that door open , it slams against the wall beside it. your feel take you towards the man standing in the street , a figure you've seen lurking around too many times to chalk it up to coincidences
you cock back the hammer, your hands are steady for the first time since yesterday.
"ya tell tommy fucking shelby that if he doesn't get ya fuckers away from me , i'll start shooting."
you move the revolver and point it to the pavement , missing his foot by a hair.
-
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tangerinesilk · 1 year
Text
- DISTRACTION : DAVE LIZEWSKI
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dave was a great study buddy, but there's no doubt he was a distraction. he constantly made you turn your head twice at whatever he said or did whether it was some comic book character he rambled about or how his pale blue eyes shined under the warm lighting of his desk lamp.
pairing ✷ college!dave lizewski x college!fem!reader
rating ✷ r (18+ minors dni!)
tropes ✷ friends with benefits, spicy but no / little plot, unspoken love, domestic toward eachother but no dating, dorky and awkward people in love who just wont admit it theyre in love (sort of) | nsfw warnings below!
word count ✷ 1.7k
a/n ✷ um this was a random thought and it just sort of happened. stg it feels like i blacked out while writing this KSKFFKS what is going on with me. anyways been wanting to write about this cute dork for a while and why not make it really hot. posting now so i dont chicken out but ill edit later.... i always love feedback! xo
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[ steamy warnings: mentions of public sex, dom & sub switches, p in v without protection, nipple play, hj + bj, f receiving oral from m, praising + heavy dirty talk, face sitting, finishing inside v ]
typical weekends: saturday night at dave's apartment.
dave was explaining something... it was something. something important, but all you could focus on was his pretty eyes and how soft his lips looked today. he pushed his glasses up more on his nose bridge again, looking down at his book for one of his college classes.
he was so into the subject, you didn't even have to nod. you were occasionally tapping the eraser end of your pencil against your blank notebook, only listening to every other word.
suddenly, your mind wanders to when you two were doing laundry at three in the morning and got a little spontaneous. then getting a bit handsy on the top floor of the library where no one usually was. maybe even the time when you were visiting him back home for one weekend and you both could barely keep it together with company downstairs.
ever since you both agreed on this friends with benefits agreement, your dry spells were no longer an issue. it seemed like both of you were touched starved, but not wanting to meet other people, strangers you didnt want or need to know.
so, after becoming lab partners in your fall semester of senior year, its been nonstop seeing each other. not just for sex, but hanging out to study, going to local comic book stores and libraries, even the occasional dinner and sleepover combo at his apartment or yours.
it seemed like a wild card at first, but you would never admit (outloud) to dave lizewski that you underestimated how great his tongue felt inside your pus—
"y/n, are you even listening?"
you cleared your throat, "hmm?"
he chuckled, "so you weren't... i know, its kind of boring."
now you felt bad, caught up from going down memory lane and he was excited about his new class.
you ran your hand over his curls, "im sorry, dave. my mind was wandering."
he turned, seeming interested, "about what?"
you felt the heat rise to your cheeks, "about... you know..." you trailed then shrugged, "stuff."
dave smiled, "oh yeah? you weren't, i dont know, thinking about me?"
you had seen this confidence grow inside dave as more time passed, and you weren't sure if it was cockiness, but you couldn't deny how cute yet attractive it was on him.
"why dont you go back to what you were rambling about? please. im all ears now." you lean in, placing your hands underneath your chin with your elbows on his desk.
its ironic how his full size bed was behind the two of you yet here you are, acting like this was the first time you've hung out.
he pressed wet kisses against your inner thighs, your clit aching for his mouth as his nose brushed against your skin. he'd let out a nervous chuckle as he noticed the wet spot forming on the center of your panties. you'd bite your bottom lip as he licked his lips, in awe of the mess you were for him.
dave pulled down your panties, shuffling them down your ankles before tossing them to the side. his strong hands run up the top of your thighs before holding your hips, pulling your core closing to his mouth. after his first, yet hesitant, kiss on your clit, you let out a faint moan.
soon his tongue was running over your open slit and tasting your sweet wetness. you arched your back, leaning back on his desk as he flicked your clit a few times. when he pushes his tongue inside you, a rush of heat runs over your entire body. you caress your own breasts and pull at your own nipples as he picks up his pace.
"fuck... god, yes. eat my fucking pussy." you whimpered. he got so weak when you uttered your sweet nothings. as dominant as he thought he presented himself, dave was a sucker for you.
just when you thought it couldn't get better, he slide his two fingers into your slit as his tongue flicks your swollen clit. you told him how you love when he curled his fingers inside you, knuckle deep and gathering your wetness every pump as he brought you closer to your orgasm.
your hips grind against his mouth and hand, painfully near your climax. he cursed under his breath as he felt your pussy clench around his digits. he pulls his mouth away from your clit, trailing more kisses over your stomach then rolls his tongue against your right nipple.
his hand still worked your slit, thrusting so fast that your head was spinning along with the pleasure of him sucking your erect nipple. you glanced down, seeing how his hard pressed against his khakis. just the thought of taking his cock into your mouth made you dizzy, bucking your hips against his fingers.
"yes... make me cum. i wanna fucking cum on your fingers." you muttered under your breath, pulling at his curls. dave's knees were giving out as he held his position but he loved to hear your continous begging.
he was about to see if he could pick up his pace before your hand reached down, sliding into the front of his stained pants and caressing his hard cock. he grunted against your chest, instantly weak from your touch which made him pause.
"hmm, what about i cum on your cock instead?" you giggled as your lips met his, "it's so hard... bet you've been thinking about cumming inside my tight pussy, huh, dave?"
he sighed, "shit..."
"that's what i thought, baby." you say before taking his fingers into your mouth, tasting your own cum. he takes a mental picture even though you've done this in your previous hookups.
you hop off the desk, playfully pushing him on his twin size bed. you slowly get on your knees, running your hand over the crotch of his pants that were already unbuttoned and half unzipped. it's easy for your pull his cock out, practically springing from his briefs.
his eyes are glued to you as your tongue runs up and down the base before wrapping your lips against his red tip. you half-giggle when you taste his pre-cum, then carefully take him all in your mouth. you gag a bit as his tip pushes further in, and he groans when your throat tightens around him.
you push your tongue out to make sure your teeth dont graze his cock as you deep throat him, incredibly slow, so he can watch in awe. he leans up on his elbows, falling apart as you take him in your mouth so easily and your hand pumping the rest of his base.
"fucking christ... fuck." he muttered, his dick twitching inside your mouth as your salvia runs down when you gag on his hard.
his hand runs over your hair, gathering it together to keep it out of your face— also to have a better view of him receiving one of the best blowjobs you've given him.
when you pull your mouth away, you giggle as you pump his cock with your spit lubricating for better motion. his face screws together the faster you pump, and he can barely take the pleasure.
"hmm, i bet you wanna cum on my face... and tits. but, i want you to cum inside me." you say as you but your bottom lip, running your thumb over the cum leaking from his tip.
"me too, baby. fuck!" he grunts, and it makes you smile at how much of a mess he is too.
you rise from your knees, relieving the pressure on them before straddling him on his bed. you pull off your top, tossing it on the other side of the room as he quickly peels his shirt off as well. his big hands run up your body, over your breasts once more as his thumbs move against your nipples.
"god, i want to feel every inch of your cock... so, don't stop until you're finished." you tell him as you run his tip agaisnt your slit before slowly sinking down on him.
"babe, shit... fuck." he whimpered, his fingers pressing into your hips as you arch your back.
"god, im so tight." you moan, "your cock is so big... can barely fit you inside me." you huff, your eyes closed shut as you slowly move your hips.
soon, you meet a nice pace of bouncing on his cock and he loosens up as he watches you move up and down. his bright eyes keep moving between looking at your tits and your face, completely amazed by your beauty.
you run your hands over his toned chest and abdomen, leaving light scratches on his skin from the waves of pleasure coursing throughout your body.
"dave, im gonna cum. oh, oh! i'm gonna cum." you announced to him and he was holding off anyways, his jaw clenched his much that it was beginning to feel painful.
as you arch your back and let out a long whine, he stills his hips as his warm cum fills you up. it was the first time he was fully inside you, and you were aching around his cock, feeling it throbbing against your walls.
he leans up, leaving a soft kiss just above your breasts before you two share another kiss. you can't help but giggle, both of you feeling that sudden hit of exhaustion.
you lift yourself from your cock and cum runs down your slit, letting him see the mess he made. dave smirks, expecting him to say that he'll get you a towel but instead licks his lips and starts to lean down between your legs again.
it was like deja vu. his tongue presses against your swollen slit, tasting your mixed cum before sucking on your sore clit. now you're so sensitive to the touch, you could orgasm again at any moment. he was so in tune with your body that he knew what pace to go and how long you could actually lasts.
you run your hands over your breasts, his tongue moving so perfectly between your slit and clit. you feel his press a light kiss against the area above your pussy before trailing more kisses up your body. then, you two shared another kiss, tasting each other's tongues once more before he laid next to you.
"you know, i've never had a study partner like you." you jeered, pressed a kiss against the start of his jaw.
he blushed, "me neither..." he raised his eyebrows, "trust me."
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irisintheafterglow · 4 months
Note
Hey there!
Saw your requests were open (if it isnt,just ignore this)
But i just love your satoru x reader and co parenting megumi????and i would KILL to see like, something bad happening to reader (like a mission going wrong,she passing out or getting sick or all) and boys just panicking cause satoru loves reader,and megumi sees her as his mother???
Sorry,im a sucker for hurt/comfort trope
Lots of love!!! you're amazing!
aww this is so cute, thank you for the request anon <3 wrote it as sick fic instead of injury since i,,,, have written like 3 things with that trope recently so let's do a fluffy sick fic instead lol. hope you like it :))
cw/tags: established relationship (pet names babe, baby, sweetheart), gn!reader, some explicit language, mention of eating
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"the kid thinks you're gonna die," your boyfriend says as he enters your room, setting a grocery bag on your desk and digging around for the bottle of orange juice. "you're starting to worry me too, honestly."
"i'm not gonna die, babe; i think it's just the flu," you groan, propping yourself on an elbow and attempting to sit up. you're unsuccessful, the throbbing in your head and the chills in your arms too overwhelming. you fall back against the pillow with a less-than-ceremonial thump. satoru crouches in front of you, eyebrows drawn and forehead wrinkled in concern. he pulls down his blindfold and you're met with the bright blue eyes you loved so much.
"yep. looks like you're dying soon," he declares with a curt nod and you scoff, a chuckle turning into an aggressive fit of coughing. satoru is lightning-quick, grabbing a new bottle of water and snapping off the cap before holding it up to your lips. "here, drink." you push his hands away, wordlessly insisting that you can drink on your own while still hacking relentlessly. "nuh-uh, just let me help you." with a frown, you let him tilt the bottle toward you and take a few careful sips. "you are frustratingly stubborn," he sighs.
"i have to be if i need to deal with you all the time," you joke hoarsely, sips of water becoming gulps.
"yeah, but you love me for it," he finishes and you agree with a shrug. "easy, there," he warns as you keep downing the water. "don't want you choking again."
"i'm fine, satoru."
"you've been working yourself too much, you know."
"hypocrite," you counter and he frowns, taking a seat on the edge of your bed. you were right, even though he didn't want to admit it. satoru was always the first one to say that someone was working too hard, just to take the burden for himself. it was a red flag, you said a few weeks ago over convenience store sushi; you also noted his 'concerningly inflated ego, lack of spatial awareness, and general disinterest in things that could be momentarily unpleasant.' you'd finished it, though, with a long-winded comment about how his red flags, in all their scarlet glory, made satoru himself. maybe it was just his melodrama, but he'd cut off his hand if it meant you were able to joke like that again.
"i'm serious. i think your body's shutting down because-"
"because i've been away too long, i know. i don't need a lecture right now, satoru." you swallow the last of the water and settle back onto your pillow, grumbling when you feel the side of your bed sink with your boyfriend's weight. "baby, you're gonna get sick, too."
"that means i get to take a day or two off," he points out, fitting his face into the divot between your shoulder and neck. despite your complaints, he throws off the comforter and replaces the blankets with his arms. "don't grrrr me, babe. you need to burn off your fever and i run warmer than any of these sheets."
"aren't i sweaty and stinky and yucky? how can you be touching me when i'm all gross?"
"you mean, how can i love on you right now when you're just being a human?"
"mhmm. you don't find it gross?"
"of course not, sweetheart," he reassures you with a kiss to your shoulder. "i'd be a real dickhead if i only loved you when you were feeling 100%."
"yeah, you're only half a dickhead for other reasons," you murmur into the pillowcase and he laughs, the sound reverberating against your back. before your eyes settle shut, you catch the door of your room opening and vaguely make out a messy head of black hair peeking around the corner. "megs?"
"oi, adults only," the other occupant of the bed threatens, pulling you closer and attempting to flip you to your other side to face him. you unbuckle satoru from around you, though, and manage to sit up. megumi pads carefully into the room, like you'd crumble into sand if his steps were too loud. "come in, i guess," your boyfriend says dramatically with a wave of his hand.
"satoru, i swear-"
"sorry, baby. shutting up." satoru flops back onto your bed and you reach out to megumi, who stares at your hand for a moment before rushing into your arms. "hey, megs. since you're here, you mind grabbing me a soda from the breakroom?"
"i thought you were shutting up, satoru," you remind him, voice poisonously sweet. he echoes your reminder in a mockingly high-pitched voice. "i'm gonna kick you out of my room if you don't stop, mister."
"you wouldn't dare," he gasps.
"oh, i would."
"yeah," he concedes. "you definitely would, but i love you for it." with satoru temporarily placated, you return your attention to the small child in your arms.
"you doing okay, megs?" he nods, eyes shut against your chest and holding you tight. "i'm not gonna die, buddy. i promise." you rub your hand up and down his back, combing your fingers through his hair when you're abruptly swung backward onto the bed. "jeez, satoru, what are you-"
"get the kid, it's nap time," he mumbles with finality, resecuring his body around yours and motioning for megumi to climb in. he does, and you drift off sandwiched between your boys, feeling a little lighter for the first time in days.
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kayewrite · 1 month
Text
blue sticky note (part 2)
OT8 x reader!! stray kids x reader!! word count: 5.9k
stray kids fic wherein, you know the answer of the mystery of the blue sticky note in your binder, but then keep denying it.
AN: i literally love this guys. please tell me your thoughts also im crying.
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(part 1 here!!)
Does Bang Chan like you?
Why did he create a song for you?
Your mind raced as you held the blue sticky note, staring at the familiar handwriting that had been haunting your thoughts for days. You replayed the moment when you confronted him, hoping for a straightforward answer.
“Are you the one who put this in my binder?” you had carefully asked, showing him the sticky note that had left you sleepless for nights.
Bang Chan didn’t answer right away. His eyes softened as he looked at you, and for a brief moment, you thought you saw something deeper in his gaze. But instead of responding to your question, he gave you a gentle smile, one that made your heart skip a beat.
“Did you know we all made this song?” he said, his voice calm, almost as if he was leading you from the truth you were seeking. “We all helped to do this.”
His words left you more confused than before. What did that even mean? Was it some kind of cryptic message?
“You know what,” he suddenly said, his tone shifting to something more casual, “you should really attend Changbin’s party this weekend. I’ll be the one to pick you up.”
And just like that, he left the studio without waiting for your reply, leaving you standing there with a thousand questions swirling in your mind. The mystery you thought you were close to solving only seemed to deepen, the answers slipping further from your grasp.
You tried to focus on your upcoming presentation in class, but Bang Chan's words and that blue sticky note kept intruding on your thoughts. Lying in bed, staring at the ceiling, you wondered why this was all becoming so hard to figure out.
Suddenly, a knock on your door snapped you out of your thoughts. You opened it to find Felix standing there, a soft smile on his face as he greeted you.
“Hi,” he said, holding his favorite yellow plushie—a chicken. “I’m back again.”
You let him in, and without a word, he walked in and instead of heading to the sofa like usual, he went straight to your bedroom and flopped down on your bed..
You followed him, sitting at the edge of the bed as you pulled the blanket over him. You felt a pang of sympathy for your friend. He always seemed so worn out whenever you saw him in the mornings at school, his eyes heavy with exhaustion. You knew it must be because of his noisy neighbor.
“I think my neighbor is angry with me,” Felix mumbled, his face half-buried in the pillow.
“Why?” you asked, your voice gentle.
“He only makes noise whenever I’m about to sleep.”
“Maybe we should complain to the landlord,” you suggested, but you knew Felix. He was too kind-hearted to make a fuss about it. He’d rather suffer in silence than cause trouble for someone else.
"I’ve decided I should move out here," he said quietly.
"Really? Finally," you replied, a bit of relief in your voice. You’d wanted someone to share your apartment with for so long. Living alone had become so lonely.
"But I’ll be moving next door," he added.
Oh. That was fine too.
You couldn’t help but smile as you lay down beside him, both of you staring up at the ceiling. The silence was comfortable, but your thoughts were still tangled up in the mystery of the blue note.
“I think I should talk to someone about this,” you finally said, breaking the silence. The questions were too much for you to keep inside anymore.
“Talk about what?” Felix asked, his voice calm but curious.
“The blue note…” you began, turning your head to look at him. “Do you know who owns it?”
Felix took a deep breath, clearly expecting this conversation. He didn’t answer right away, instead asking, “May I ask you a question? Who do you think owns it?”
“I don’t want to assume anything,” you admitted, “You guys are giving me a hard time. I don’t want to jump to conclusions.”
Felix’s gaze softened as he looked at you, his expression unreadable. “What would you do if you found out who owned it? Would it change things between you and us?”
You sighed, running a hand through your hair. “I see all of you as my brothers. But if it really was one of you… then…” You trailed off, not knowing how to finish the thought.
“What if it was all of us?” Felix’s voice was quiet, almost hesitant.
“What—” Before you could react, Felix leaned in and pecked your lips, the suddenness of it leaving you frozen.
“Do you know how hard it is?” he whispered, his eyes locked on yours. “Loving you means risking our whole friendship. But as long as I could hold it in, I thought I should. But right now, I can’t.”
His confession hung in the air between you, heavy and filled with emotion. He searched your eyes for a reaction, his heart clearly on the line.
“Please,” he continued, his voice breaking slightly, “when tomorrow comes, forget what I did. And I hope… you’ll forgive me.”
And then, before you could process everything, he claimed your lips again, this time with more urgency, as if trying to convey everything he couldn’t put into words.
The next morning, you walked to class feeling like you were floating. Felix was already gone when you woke up, leaving behind only a note saying he had to go.
The memory of last night's kiss made your cheeks flush as you touched your lips, but you quickly shook the thought away.
Why does this feel so wrong?
You've been friends with these guys since middle school, and now, everything felt like it was spiraling out of control.
You slumped into your seat next to Yuji, dropping your head onto your table.
“Girl, you look stressed,” she said, combing her fingers through your hair.
“I know. I think I should just die.”
“No, not yet! We still have that concert to go to, remember? Physics might make you want to drop dead, but focus on the bright side—concert!” Yuji playfully shook your shoulders.
“What concert? Why didn’t you invite me?” Seungmin’s voice interrupted as he approached, handing out papers.
"Oh! it's seungmin." Yuji immediately straightened up, trying to play it cool. “I have two tickets. One for me, and one for her.” She pointed at you with an exaggerated modesty. “But she can always buy new her own, so I’ll give you hers.” She smiled sweetly at Seungmin like a puppy.
Seungmin didn’t even look up as he continued distributing papers. “Never mind. I’ve got plans with her, anyway.”
You blinked, confused. Plans? He hadn’t mentioned anything to you.
“What plans?” you asked, tilting your head in curiosity.
“It’s a surprise.” He finally looked up, flashing a small, knowing smile before moving on to the next student.
Yuji’s eyes widened in surprise. “Wait, is there something going on between you two?” she asked, crossing her arms and pouting. “You betrayed me?! I thought you were on Team Seungmin and Yuji!”
You barely registered her words, your mind suddenly flashing back to what Felix said last night.
“What if it was all of us?”
Was there a chance that Seungmin… liked you? Or were they all just playing with your feelings?
The stress of it all made you tug at your hair in frustration. But then you remembered Felix’s kiss, making you feel even more confused.
After class, you were about to leave when Seungmin called out to you.
“Hey,” he said, jogging over. “Let me treat you to the cafeteria.”
Normally, you’d jump at the chance for free food—who wouldn’t? This was just how you and Seungmin usually were. But after everything that happened, you found yourself questioning his intentions.
Still, you plastered on a smile and nodded. “Sure.”
As you both sat down, Seungmin played with his spoon, eyeing his food. “Do you think short hair would suit me?” He ran a hand through his hair, “I’m thinking about getting a haircut.”
You looked at him, trying to picture it. “Honestly? I think everything suits you.”
“Oh really?” He laughed, raising an eyebrow. “Well, if it turns out ugly, I’m blaming you.”
“It won’t,” you assured him. “Promise. Trust me, just imagining it, I think it’ll look great on you. And why would you blame me? I’m not the one asking you to cut it; I already think it’s perfect.”
You forced yourself not to think about what Felix said, focusing on keeping the conversation light and normal, just like always.
“Hey, why are you two eating alone without me?” Changbin suddenly appeared, sliding his tray onto the table like some kind of cool bad boy—though you knew he was a softie at heart.
“Because according to Seungmin, you eat too much,” you teased, even though Seungmin hadn’t actually said that. Changbin shot Seungmin a playful glare, his expression saying, ‘How dare you?’
“Why? It’s true,” Seungmin teased back with a casual shrug.
“Well, it is,” Changbin admitted with a grin. “But do you really think you can get away without buying me food? I put it on your tab at the cashier.”
You laughed, enjoying their playful banter. This is what you wanted to keep, this easy friendship with them. Nothing more, nothing less.
“Hey, don’t laugh! You owe me, too!” Changbin suddenly turned his attention to you.
“What? I don’t remember owing you anything. If anything, you owe me,” you shot back, munching on your food.
“Well, you’re right about that.” He chuckled, then leaned in closer, his tone turning serious. “But you owe me a promise. You have to come to my party. And you too.” referring to Seungmin.
“Tell me why I should attend instead of going to my weekly seminar,” Seungmin challenged, always enjoying a good tease.
“There’ll be lots of food.”
“Valid, but not enough,” Seungmin replied, feigning disinterest.
“I’ll be there,” Changbin said. Seungmin just rolled his eyes before standing up.
“I’m done eating,” he said, grabbing his tray. Then he looked at you, “Finish your food and eat well. I’ll go ahead.”
“What happened to you?” Hyunjin asked, concern etched on his face as he glanced over at you.
You were lying on one of the beds in the school clinic, feeling utterly drained. “I think I’m coming down with a fever. Can you give me some medicine?”
Hyunjin’s eyes narrowed slightly, a familiar sigh escaping his lips. “Again? Don’t tell me you’re pulling that trick to avoid PE.”
It was Wednesday, and Hyunjin was on clinic duty again. It seemed like every time he was here, you somehow managed to find your way to the clinic as well.
“I just really dislike playing volleyball,” you complained, curling up under the blanket.
“You know it’s part of the curriculum,” Hyunjin said firmly, reaching out to help you sit up. “Now, get up and get moving.”
But you stayed put. “I’m serious this time. My head is pounding.” You pressed your fingers against your temples, trying to relieve the discomfort.
Hyunjin’s expression softened, though he still looked slightly exasperated. “Alright, alright. Just stay here.” He walked over to the medicine cabinet, opening it and rummaging through the various bottles.
You watched him, admiring how he looked in his white lab coat. He seemed so professional and competent, and it made you smile despite your discomfort.
After a moment, Hyunjin returned with a small bottle in hand. “Here, take this.”
You examined the label. “Gummy vitamins? Really?”
Hyunjin grinned. “Yep, gummy medicine. It’s actually quite effective.”
“But… isn’t this for kids?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.
“You’re never too old for gummy vitamins,” Hyunjin said with a teasing smirk. He leaned closer and playfully tapped your forehead. “And besides, you’re basically a kid.”
“Ouch!” you said, rubbing your forehead as you accepted the bottle. You popped a gummy into your mouth, making a face as you chewed. The taste was oddly medicinal, and you struggled to hide your reaction.
Hyunjin chuckled, his laughter bright and genuine. “You look like you’re eating something terrible.”
“It’s not as good as the regular gummies,” you said, grimacing slightly. “But I guess it’ll do.”
Hyunjin shook his head, his smile softening. “You really need someone to take care of you. I swear, you can’t even handle a gummy without making a face.”
“I can take care of myself just fine,” you insisted, stretching your arms out as if to demonstrate your health. “Look, I’m perfectly okay.”
“Yeah, right,” Hyunjin said, sitting down on the chair next to you. “But even if you can take care of yourself, you don’t need to do it alone. I’m here for you, and I’ll always be here to look out for you.”
His words were meant to be comforting, and they were—though they took on a new weight as you recalled what Bang Chan and Felix had said. It suddenly seemed like there might be a deeper layer to Hyunjin’s concern.
You pushed those thoughts aside, forcing a smile. “I’m really glad to have you guys around. It means a lot.”
Hyunjin’s eyes softened as he returned your smile. “I’m glad to hear that. Now, try to get some rest. You need it.”
“Hey, Han,” you called out as you entered the library, spotting your friend among the sea of students hunched over their books. Probably finished of his schedule in the counter as a librarian assistant.
“Oh, hi!” Han looked up from his desk, his glasses perched on the edge of his nose. His eyes were bright with a mixture of surprise and curiosity. You often wondered how he managed to juggle work, study, and his other responsibilities so effortlessly.
“I finally finished that novel you recommended,” you said, making your way over to his table. “..And it was so boring.”
Han’s eyes widened in mock horror, his hands flying to his chest. “What? Don't do that to my most favorite book!"
You couldn’t help but laugh at his dramatic reaction. “Just kidding. It was actually really good.” You gave him a thumbs-up, your voice low but full of mirth, mindful of the quiet atmosphere in the library.
Han let out a relieved sigh and shook his head with a smile. “You almost had me there. What did you think of the ending?”
You shrugged, a hint of frustration in your tone. “I’m still confused. How can the main character like her but never pursue her? It just doesn’t make sense to me.”
Han’s face took on a look of mild exasperation as he leaned back in his chair. “Did you read it with your whole heart, or were you skimming through it?”
“Of course I read it!” you protested, feeling a bit defensive. “I just didn’t get it.”
Han’s expression softened into a more thoughtful one. “Well, sometimes love isn’t as straightforward as we want it to be. The character had reasons for not pursuing her, even though he wanted to.”
“What reasons?” you asked, genuinely intrigued. You leaned forward, eager for an explanation.
Han sighed, a hint of frustration creeping into his voice, can't believe he has to explain it to you. “It’s not always easy to explain. Sometimes, there are external factors, personal struggles, or circumstances beyond our control that affect our decisions.”
“Oh, I see,” you said slowly, trying to digest his explanation. “I still think the ending was a bit of a letdown, though.”
"Me too." Han chuckled, nodding in agreement. “Yeah, it’s definitely not the happiest of endings. But that’s what makes it memorable, I guess.”
“So, why is it your favorite if it’s so depressing?” you asked, genuinely curious.
Han hesitated, a thoughtful look on his face as he stared into the distance. “Because…”
He didn’t finish his sentence, leaving you hanging. You could guess what he might mean, understanding more than you let on. Sometimes it was easier to pretend you didn’t get it than to face the deeper implications of his words.
“Why would you need another cat when you already have three?” you asked, following Minho around the animal shelter. The space was filled with the soft meows and playful purrs of the cats, and you tried to keep up with his purposeful stride.
“Having one more won’t make me poor,” Minho replied, his gaze fixed intently on the cats. He seemed completely absorbed in the task of finding the perfect feline companion, his focus unwavering.
You chuckled softly, “Based on your face, you don’t look like someone who’s a father to a bunch of cats.” well he does look like a cat but you'll never tell him that, it might boost his overflowing confidence
“I don’t take opinions from anyone who’s trailing behind me,” Minho said with a smirk, still not turning to look at you.
“Oh, so you brought me here just to hear my complaints?” you sighed dramatically, trailing behind him. The endless walking was starting to wear you out, and you couldn’t help but think about the stack of assignments waiting for you at home.
Suddenly, Minho stopped in front of a white cat who was sitting calmly, watching him with wide, curious eyes. Minho crouched down and began speaking to the cat in a soft, melodic tone that seemed to mimic the cat’s own meows.
“I think I already found it,” Minho said with a satisfied smile, glancing up at you.
Back at the shelter’s counter, Minho was busy with the paperwork, preparing for the adoption. You watched him efficiently handle the forms and place the cat into its carrier. As he completed the final details, he turned to you with a beaming expression.
“Let’s go,” he said cheerfully.
You both headed to his car. Once inside, you buckled up, only for Minho to place the cat carrier on your lap. You opened it gently, letting the cat come out and stretch. Its beautiful white fur was soft and silky under your touch.
“What should we name her?” you asked, stroking the cat’s fur as she nuzzled closer to you.
“I don’t know,” Minho said, adjusting his seatbelt. “Why don’t you name her?”
"why would I be the one to do that?" you protested,
“Then, I’ll just name her after you,” Minho teased, looking at you with a mischievous glint in his eye.
“Oh no, don’t do that,” you laughed, shaking your head.
“Right? She seems to like it.” Minho chuckled as the cat responded positively to being called by your name. “She’s our daughter now.”
You felt a flutter of surprise at his words, but you tried to keep your emotions in check.
“Well, now you’re officially the baby of our friend group,” you said, hugging the cat gently. The little creature purred contentedly in your arms, and you couldn’t help but smile. “Welcome to the family.”
You were about to drift off to sleep when your phone buzzed with a FaceTime call from Jeongin. Rubbing the sleep from your eyes, you fixed your hair a bit and answered.
"Hey, what's up?" you greeted, trying to sound awake as you adjusted the phone to make sure you looked presentable.
"Hey!" Jeongin's cheerful voice came through, though his face was momentarily obscured as he set the phone down. The background of his room appeared on screen: a collection of action figures and band posters. He returned, holding his guitar. "Got a minute? I have a performance evaluation tomorrow, and I was hoping you could listen to my song and give me some feedback."
"Of course," you replied, leaning back against your headboard. "Why me though? You have plenty of musician friends who could help."
Jeongin laughed softly, adjusting the tune on his guitar. "Well, I think I’ll get the most honest comments from you. Han just tells me I sound like bread—whatever that means—and Changbin mostly just laughs at me."
You smiled at his playful tone. "Alright, hit me with it."
With a nod, Jeongin began to strum his guitar and sing. His voice filled the room with a soothing melody, performing Day6's "Afraid." His rendition was as captivating as always.
When he finished, you sighed in appreciation. "That was beautiful. Seriously, the song fits your voice perfectly."
“Really?” Jeongin’s face brightened with a hopeful smile.
You nodded enthusiastically, giving him a thumbs up. “Absolutely. You did an amazing job.”
Jeongin chuckled. “The truth is, that wasn’t the song I intended to perform,” he admitted with a playful grin. “but i hope you enjoy that song. It's for you.”
You laughed softly, feeling grateful for the unexpected late-night serenade. “I did. Thanks for sharing it with me.”
You enter Bang Chan’s studio, balancing a coffee cup in one hand. The studio is buzzing with activity, but Chan looks up with a smile as you walk in.
“Hey, thanks for the coffee!” Chan says, taking the cup from you with a grateful grin.
“No problem. I figured you’d need it. I’ve heard you’re practically living here these days,” you tease, slipping into the casual banter you’re used to with him.
“Yeah, it’s the price of fame,” Chan chuckles, pretending to adjust an imaginary tie. “I’m basically a coffee addict now.”
“You’ve always been one. Remember that time you tried to make your own coffee blend and nearly set off the fire alarm?”
Chan laughs, shaking his head. “Oh, don’t remind me. I’m still convinced it was a conspiracy by the coffee machine.”
You laugh along, feeling a comfortable ease in the familiar exchange. “So, are you busy today? Or can you spare a few minutes?”
“Earlier, I was buried in work, but now I’m taking a break. What’s up?” Chan asks, settling into his chair.
You nod, setting your coffee down on a nearby table. “I actually came to talk. And, well, I left my glasses here the other day.”
Chan raises an eyebrow playfully. “So it’s a dual-purpose visit: coffee delivery and a retrieval mission?”
“Exactly. I’m multitasking,” you reply with a wink.
“Impressive. I’d expect nothing less from you,” Chan says, leaning back in his chair. “But seriously, what’s on your mind?”
You take a deep breath, shifting your focus from the lightheartedness to a more serious tone. “You know, Chan, I’ve been thinking a lot lately. About everything that’s been happening with us.”
Chan’s expression shifts to a more serious one, sensing the change in tone. “Go on.”
“You know I’m always proud of you and everything you’ve achieved,” you begin, your voice softening. “And I’m grateful for everything you’ve done for me. But lately, I’ve been worried. I don’t want to ruin the friendship we have.”
Chan looks at you with a mixture of concern and curiosity. “What do you mean?”
“I just hoped that everything you’ve said, and everything I thought, is wrong,” you continue. “I don’t want to ruin the friendship I have with you guys.”
Chan’s smile is gentle but sad. “You know, now that everyone likes you?”
You look down, fiddling with your coffee cup. “Well, I hope it’s because you all care for me as a friend and not something more.”
Chan’s eyes are filled with a warmth that both comforts and troubles you. “You’ve always been special to us. And we’re okay if you have to choose one of us. We promise it won’t ruin anything.”
“I don’t want to choose any of you,” you say, your voice trembling slightly. “You’re all special to me.”
It was Changbin's birthday, and you were carefully wrapping the gift you had bought for him—a watch. You knew it wasn’t as extravagant as the ones he usually wore, but it was thoughtful and sincere, a gesture from a poor uni student to a friend who seemed to have everything. Still, you hoped he would appreciate the sentiment.
A knock on your door startled you, pulling you from your thoughts. You were expecting Chan, who had offered to pick you up for the party, so you hurried to answer the door.
But it wasn’t Chan.
“Hey.” Felix stood there, a small, familiar smile on his lips. The sight of him made your heart skip a beat, especially after everything that had happened between you two in the past few days. You had promised yourself to forget about it, to push those feelings away, but seeing him now made it all come rushing back.
“Hello, gorgeous,” Felix greeted you, his voice as smooth as ever. He looked effortlessly handsome in his suit, his charm radiating as always.
“Thank you,” you replied, trying to keep your voice steady. You appreciated the compliment, but there was an undeniable awkwardness in the air, a tension that neither of you wanted to acknowledge. “You look great too.”
Felix chuckled softly, his eyes briefly meeting yours before he looked away. “I try,” he said, his tone light, but you could hear the underlying edge to it. He cleared his throat, trying to ease the tension. “Ready to go?”
“Yeah,” you nodded, grabbing your bag. “Chan’s waiting downstairs.”
Together, you walked down to the first floor, where Chan’s car was parked outside. He rolled down the window as you approached, flashing you both a bright smile. “Finally! I was about to start the party without you guys,” he joked.
“Wouldn’t be much of a party without the birthday gift,” you teased back, holding up the wrapped box.
Chan laughed, unlocking the doors. “Get in, then. Can’t have you showing up without it.”
In the car, the three of you quickly fell into easy conversation, laughing about inside jokes and reminiscing about old memories.
“So, what did you get Changbin?” Felix asked, looking over at you with genuine curiosity.
“It’s just a watch,” you said, suddenly feeling self-conscious. “Nothing fancy.”
Felix shook his head. “It’s the thought that counts. He’ll love it.”
You smiled at his reassurance, but the heavy tension lingered, especially with Felix sitting so close to you. You could feel his presence, his warmth, but there was a wall between you—one neither of you seemed ready to address.
As the conversation continued, you found yourself getting lost in the sound of Chan’s voice, trying to push away the awkwardness. But no matter how much you tried to immerse yourself in the moment, you couldn’t shake the heaviness in the air.
Finally, you arrived at the party. The venue was stunning, elegant in every way. All your friends were already there, looking beautiful and sophisticated in their formal attire. As soon as you entered, they complimented you, making you feel like you belonged in that glamorous setting, even if you often doubted it yourself.
Yuji, who had also been invited, greeted you with a warm hug, her energy infectious. “You look amazing!” she gushed, her eyes wide with excitement as she took in the atmosphere. “This party is insane, right?”
“Yeah, it’s something else,” you agreed, smiling at her enthusiasm. “You look great too, by the way.”
She grinned, doing a little twirl. “Thanks! I can’t wait to see what happens tonight.”
The party began, and you found yourself seated at a table with your friends. Minho, who had always been obvious about his feelings for you, couldn’t take his eyes off you. He looked at you like you were the only person in the room, his gaze intense and unwavering.
“Are you okay?” Jeongin whispered in your ear.
You nodded, trying to act nonchalant. “Yeah, I’m fine.”
Jeongin didn’t seem convinced, but he didn’t push it. Instead, he casually wrapped his arm around your shoulders, pulling you closer to him. “Just let me know if you need anything,”
You smiled gratefully at him, though the tension between the table was palpable, and you could feel the weight of Minho’s gaze even more acutely.
Then there was Han, who had always been more subtle about his feelings. He had never made it obvious, but tonight, when the air began to cool, he quietly draped his coat over your shoulders, his fingers brushing against your skin as he did so.
“Thanks, Han,” you said, looking up at him with a soft smile.
“No problem,” he replied, his voice low and warm. “Can’t have you freezing out here.”
As the evening went on, the program began, and Seungmin took the stage to offer a song. His voice was beautiful, capturing everyone’s attention as he sang. But as he performed, your heart began to race. He kept looking at you, his eyes locking with yours in a way that made you feel both flustered and vulnerable.
Yuji, sitting nearby, was practically glowing with happiness. She leaned in close, whispering, “I think this song is for me!”
You forced a smile, unable to bring yourself to tell her otherwise. “Maybe,” you replied, but your heart knew better.
Hyunjin, ever perceptive, seemed to pick up on the tension in the air. He observed quietly, his sharp eyes darting between you and the others, before taking a long sip of his wine. “Quite the night, huh?” he murmured, more to himself than to anyone in particular.
Then, out of nowhere, Changbin appeared at your table. His face lit up when he saw you, and without hesitation, he pulled you into a tight hug. “I’m so happy you’re here!” he exclaimed, his voice filled with genuine joy.
You laughed softly, hugging him back. “Wouldn’t miss it for the world.”
Everyone at the table watched the interaction closely, some with smiles, others with unreadable expressions. But as you stood there, enveloped in Changbin’s embrace, a strange feeling crept into your chest.
And in that moment, you realized that perhaps it was better not to know. Ignorance, as they say, might be bliss.
As the night deepened, the more you wanted to go home. It wasn't that you didn’t enjoy spending time with your friends—quite the opposite—but with the tension growing thicker by the minute, you’d rather be curled up under your blanket, away from the chaos.
You were about to take another sip of your wine when a hand gently stopped you.
"You should stop drinking. You shouldn't get drunk," Han said, his voice soft but firm. He took your glass and, without hesitation, drank it himself.
The loud music continued to play in the background, filling the air with a vibrant energy that contrasted sharply with the underlying tension. Everyone else was getting more and more absorbed in their drinks, except you—Han never let you have another sip.
"Hey, do you want me to sing a song on stage?" a voice asked, leaning close to you to be heard over the music. You turned to find Jeongin grinning at you.
You laughed, feeling a bit lighter in his presence. "Why would you ask for my permission? You should go up there and do what you want. I'm just here to support you."
Jeongin nodded, his smile growing wider. "That's the reason I like you." He stood up from his chair, leaving you momentarily stunned by his words.
As the seat beside you became vacant, Seungmin slipped into it, his presence bringing a different kind of tension. He smiled at you, his eyes soft and warm as he said, "You look beautiful tonight." Then, almost as if he couldn't stop himself, he added with a slightly slurred voice, "You know, I realized I should have kept you to myself."
You went quiet, not sure how to respond. Seungmin had been the reason you met all of his friends, the one who had introduced you into this complicated circle. Now, his words hung in the air, heavy with unspoken feelings.
He rested his hand on the back of your chair, and you let out a nervous laugh, trying to shake off what he said by teasing him instead.
"Hey, Seungmin!" Felix called out, drawing everyone's attention. He smirked as he teased, "That song you sang earlier—it didn't sound like a birthday song at all. Are you sure you weren’t serenading Changbin?"
Seungmin, who was still looking at you, replied without missing a beat, "Well, it wasn't for him."
The tension at the table thickened, and you could feel everyone’s eyes on you. Hyunjin, who had been quiet until now, finally spoke up, his voice cutting through the charged atmosphere. “Changbin, you were the one who put the note, right?”
It was the question you were asking, but then you suddenly don't want to know the answer now.
Changbin, who had been busy entertaining guests earlier and was visibly tired, looked up with a blank expression. “Yeah, that was me,” he admitted, his voice flat.
Minho scoffed, taking a sip of his drink. “That was weak, Changbin,” he remarked, his tone dripping with disdain.
You could sense the unease building, the tension wrapping around you like a vice. Jeongin returned, plopping down in the seat Seungmin had vacated, his carefree demeanor a stark contrast to the heaviness in the air. “The band didn’t want to let me sing,” Jeongin said with a laugh, though even he seemed to feel the strain. “I think Changbin didn’t let me.”
“Well, it’s true. I put it in there,” Changbin confessed again, this time with more emphasis. He looked at you, his gaze heavy, and you realized how exhausted you were by this whole ordeal.
Chan, ever the mature one, noticed the growing tension and tried to intervene, but before he could speak, Felix’s voice rang out. “I kissed her.”
The words hung in the air, heavier than anything that had been said all night. The atmosphere at the table grew unbearably thick, and for a moment, you felt like you couldn’t breathe. Yuji had left earlier, and suddenly, you wished you had gone with her.
You stood up abruptly, your chair scraping against the floor. “I… I need to go to the bathroom,” you muttered, not waiting for a response as you made your way through the crowd, your steps unsteady.
In the quiet of the bathroom, you stared at your reflection in the mirror, your heart pounding in your chest. This couldn’t go on. You had to do something before everything fell apart, before you lost the friendships that meant so much to you.
Determined, you took a deep breath and opened the door, only to be pulled into a dark corner. Before you could react, Minho’s lips were on yours. The kiss was desperate, filled with emotions you didn’t want to face. You pushed him away, tears welling up in your eyes.
“Minho, stop!” you cried, your voice breaking. Minho stepped back, his expression one of shock and regret.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered, his voice trembling. “I didn’t mean to…”
Without another word, you turned and hurried back to the table, grabbing your bag as everyone’s eyes followed your every move. “I’m going home,” you announced, your voice steadier than you felt. Chan offered to drive you, but you shook your head.
“No, it’s fine.” You left before anyone could argue, the night air cold against your skin as you flagged down a taxi.
As the car sped away, tears streamed down your face, each one heavy with the realization you had been avoiding all night. You knew why you were crying, why you wanted to run away. Because deep down..
you already knew who you wanted to choose. But the thought of hurting the others, of breaking the delicate balance between you all, was too much to bear.
-
an: who do you want to choose?
@hpnsfwaddict @stay-tiny-things @velvetmoonlght @tonkatesuramen @spearbinnie0327 @leezanetheofficial @furioussheepluminary 
245 notes · View notes
yoon-kooks · 2 years
Text
paired & pierced | jjk
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⛓️pairing: hotnerd!jungkook x popular!reader
⛓️genre: smut, fluff, college!au
⛓️summary: When your professor assigns a collaborative midterm project, you’re paired up with Jeon Jungkook, the quiet grumpy smartass who keeps to himself and doesn’t fuck with popular kids like you. If you can win him over, he might give you a taste of the tatted and pierced body he’s carefully tucked away beneath those oversized hoodies.
⛓️word count: 5.3k
⛓️warnings: dom!jungkook, sub!reader, unprotected rough sex, daddy kink, good girl kink, she's tight, he's big, fingering, mutual masturbation, begging, edging, orgasm denial, cumshot, dick tattoo, not the soft jjk i usually write
⛓️p&p masterlist⛓️
a/n: this is a request from @screamertannie !💖 im not used to writing dom/sub stuff but i tried!! paired & puppy-eyed is jungkook's pov✨
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It’s become somewhat of a pre-class ritual for the gals to gather around your desk to discuss anything from the latest frat party hookups to guessing the lengths of your male classmates. The gossip doesn’t particularly interest you, and you’ve never once contributed to the cock talk. But who are you to tell them to leave you alone? If people naturally gravitate toward you, you should see it as a good thing.
“I heard that hottie Tim is single again,” Blue Hair Girl says, turning to you with the curious eyes of a true gossiper. “Y/N, you were hanging out with him at that party last weekend, weren’t you? Is he as big as they say?”
“Didn’t see it.” And you’re glad you didn’t. You wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt when he approached you, but he kept pulling you in for PDA conveniently when his ex was in sight. He was clearly using you for something you want no part of. In the end, you let him off easy by saying you had to leave early to feed your fish (you don’t have any fucking fish).
“Aw, that’s too bad.” Blue Hair Girl and the others give you a few pouty frowns.
“Yep.” Not really.
“Well, speaking of hotties, I’ve been trying to get Hoseok’s attention for a week now,” Nose Ring Girl sighs. She suddenly grasps your hands and pleads, “Wait, Y/N, you’re friends with him, right? Think you can give me his number?”
You wouldn’t call Hoseok a “friend”—he’s more of an acquaintance you happen to be friendly with, much like everyone sitting around you. But you do have his number. You have a lot of people’s numbers on your phone even though you can’t match any of their names to their faces.
“Here.” You flash your phone screen with Hoseok’s contact info before Nose Ring Girl. Her eyes light up like fireworks.
“Thank you so much, Y/N! You’re the best!” she squeals.
Toward the end of class, your professor announces something that makes your stomach turn.
“The midterm will be a partner project where you have to debug the code I assign to you and add on to it in a creative way,” she explains. “And because I’m nice, I’ll let everyone choose their own partners. Please let me know who you’ll be working with before taking off.”
You hate this. You’re surprisingly okay about the debugging part because the masochist in you kind of enjoys it, but you’re not okay with the partner part. When it comes to choosing partners, it never ends well for you. Because despite how many people you surround yourself with, you always struggle to find someone who chooses you before anyone else. 
You’re no one’s number one.
This time is no different. The girls who were so happy to be gossiping at your desk an hour ago are partnering up with one another on the other side of the room. Among them, Nose Ring Girl doesn’t appear to have coupled up yet, so she might be your only shot. Besides, you did her a favor earlier by giving her Hoseok’s number. The least she can do is partner up with you.
“Y/N, guess what?” She skips over to your desk with a big fat smile on her face. “I just texted Hoseok, and he asked to partner up with me. It’s all thanks to you, babe!”
“Oh, cool.” You try not to sound so disheartened.
She gives you a quick hug before heading back to the boy you indirectly set her up with. You’re happy for her, but you’d be lying if you said it didn’t suck. Whether intentional or not, it feels like everyone who comes near you just wants something from you—love advice, a boy’s number, PDA to make their ex jealous, or even answers to the homework—which is fine to an extent. The problem is that people keep taking, and you’re tired of not even getting the bare minimum in return.
To top it all off, Big Tim is headed your way. Yes, you want a partner. No, it’s not going to be him. You’ll pick literally anyone else in the class over him. The question is: who else doesn’t have a partner yet? People are paired up left and right. 
Except for maybe the boy sleeping in the seat right next to you.
“Jungkook,” you say in a half-hushed half-hurried voice. The boy doesn’t move an inch. Maybe he’s dead.
You hop out of your chair, stand in front of his desk, and tap on the wooden surface in front of his face. Still no response.
Aware that Big Tim is inching his way closer, you crouch down to hide as if that’ll buy you more time. The boy in front of you needs to wake up right now.
You reach toward his slumped-over body and peel off his hood. There’s a good chance he isn’t dead and just didn’t hear you because he had earbuds in or something. You hope.
No earbuds. But you do find something worth noting—a trail of empty piercing holes up his earlobe. You don’t know Jungkook all that well, but he’s been in a bunch of your comp sci classes and you’ve never seen any piercings on him. You’d remember something like that because you’re a huge sucker for boys covered in piercings and body art. All you remember is that he’s quiet and always gets the highest grades on exams because he’s a genius or whatever.
“Hey Jungkook,” you whisper into his ear and tap one of his fingers. A sleepy eye finally peeks at you. Thank god he isn’t dead. “Wanna be partners?”
He sits up slowly, adjusts his glasses, and looks around the classroom before turning back to your puppy eyes. “Sure, I guess.”
“Good, good,” you sing, scurrying back to your seat. Partner secured. Mission accomplished. Just in the nick of time.
“Y/N, still looking for a partner?” Big Tim asks at your desk.
“I’m actually partnered up with Jungkook, sorry.” You give an apologetic smile. You really need to stop that. If you had just been brutally honest with him the other day at the party, he wouldn’t be here bugging you now.
“That kid asked you to be his partner?” He points a finger at “that kid” who appears to have gone back to sleep.
You nod even though you were the one who technically asked Jungkook.
“And you said yes?”
You nod again. Big Tim continues to stare as if he’s waiting for you to abandon Jungkook for him. Maybe if he wasn’t such an asshole in the first place, you wouldn't be actively avoiding him like the plague. He had his chance.
After several awkward seconds, he finally backs off and Jungkook rises from the dead once more.
“Why didn’t you just partner up with that other guy? It sounded like he wanted to work with you,” Jungkook yawns as he fluffs his bedhead around. He looks so nice and toasty in that hoodie. No wonder why he falls asleep in class so easily.
“That’s not what he wanted.” He wanted to use you to hurt someone else. And you don’t want to be taken advantage of anymore.
“What about everyone else? Aren’t you friends with everyone here?” That’s just the illusion you’ve created. It feels so fake.
You shake your head. “Let’s just say, if a house were on fire and these people had a choice to save either me or one of their actual friends, I’d burn down with the house 10/10 times.”
“And who would you save?” he challenges you. That’s an easy question.
“No one.”
“Good answer.” The edge of his lips curves upward ever so slightly. “Alright, if it’s cool with you, I’ll just do the project myself and slap your name on it. Shouldn’t take me longer than an hour.”
“Wait, I wanna contribute too, you know,” you argue. He might be a smartypants, but you’re not the type of person to slack off and make him do all the work. You wouldn’t be surprised if other people take advantage of him on group projects like this. Maybe that’s why he doesn’t even bother with fake social interactions with peers the way you do. You admire him for that. “We should meet up and work on it together over the weekend.”
“I’m busy,” he says. Bullshit. You can tell when people make up excuses to get out of things because you’re guilty of it too. The difference is that Jungkook doesn’t sugarcoat it with coverup stories like needing to feed your nonexistent fish. Why do you find that so attractive?
“Busy with what?” You flutter your eyelashes and challenge him the way he challenged you. The fact that you’re fighting over the right to help with the project is both silly and refreshing. Usually, it’s the opposite where you’re forced to plead with your group to pull their own weight. But here you are, practically begging the boy to let you do some coding with him. Him pushing you away is a huge turn-on.
“My newborn.” He says it with such a straight face that you take his word for it.
“You have a child?” Your eyes sparkle. That either makes him a young single dilf or a committed family man you probably shouldn’t be batting your eyes at. For everyone’s sake, you hope it’s the former. “If it’s easier for you and the little one, we can work at your place?”
For a long while, he just blinks at you like you’ve said something horribly wrong. Oh no. Maybe he’s still with the kid’s mom and now he thinks you’re trying to invade their space and be some kind of homewrecker.
“I was just fucking with you…” he admits. Why does it feel like he has secondhand embarrassment from your gullible ass? It’s fine, though. You much prefer being gullible over the homewrecker angle. Then he inputs his number and address into your phone. “But if it makes you feel better, come babysit my kid tomorrow.”
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The next day, you wake up a little earlier, dress a little cuter, and feel a little more excited than usual. You’re usually indifferent (if not stressed) about hangouts and parties, but Jungkook is different. It’s fun talking to him, and you don’t have to put on a fake smile around him. He’s even got that hot grumpy boy vibe that you’re determined to win over.
After knocking on his door, you wait for a good minute but there’s no response. Maybe he’s still asleep or butt-naked in the shower. You would’ve messaged him that you were on the way, but you were scared he might have second thoughts and cancel the meetup altogether. You’ve lost count of how many times that’s happened to you in your college career.
Just as you lift your fist to knock again, the door swings open. The boy who stands before you has a full sleeve of tattoos, too many piercings to count, a whole man bun, and a handsome face that looks exactly like Jeon Jungkook’s. You didn’t know he had an identical twin with a totally different style. If he wore glasses with a hoodie and took the man bun and piercings out, he’d literally be your quiet neighbor from coding class. It’s fascinating.
“Isn’t it common courtesy to give someone a heads-up before showing up at their door?” he says with his phone in hand. Same grouchy attitude though. You love it.
Wait. You suddenly remember all those mysterious piercing holes you discovered on Jungkook’s ear less than 24 hours ago.
“Why do you look like that?” You point a finger at him as if your question isn’t already rude enough. Maybe you should rephrase it. “I mean, if I’d given you a heads-up, would you have thrown on a hoodie and removed all your piercings before I got here?”
“Maybe.” He lets you into his home, but you’re more concerned about all the sick art on his arm. If he ever rolled up his sleeves in class, you know you’d be too distracted to focus on the lecture. Perhaps that’s why he keeps it all hidden. He’s just looking out for you and your higher education. Yeah right.
“Why do you hide all of this at school?” You’re sure everyone would be coming to you for his number if they knew what he was hiding up his sleeve.
“Tattoos and piercings give people something to talk about,” he explains. “And I’m not really a fan of compliments or small talk.”
Oh. He’s aware of the physical and emotional impact his body art would have on anyone lucky enough to see it with their own eyes. Your poor body is already aching to see more.
“Fine, I won’t talk about how pretty I think your tattoos are.” Or about how hot you find his lip piercing. You’ve always wanted to kiss someone with a lip ring. You’re feeling pouty all of a sudden so you bring out the puppy eyes again.
He studies the way you shamelessly work your charm on him, and you wonder if he picks up on the temptation in your pupils. “I’ll grant you permission to give one single compliment,” he huffs, finally giving in.
You’re quick to wrap your eager paws around his arm and examine it like it’s your most prized possession. The problem is, he has way too many tatts and piercings to fit into a single compliment. You could write a whole essay expressing your love for each piece you see, and that doesn’t even include the ones still buried beneath his clothes.
“Well? Are you gonna fangirl over my tattoos or just keep fondling my arm?” Funny how he’s acting all impatient and bothered by the “fondling” but doesn’t shrug you off of him. In fact, he was the one who lent you his arm in the first place!
“I wish I could see all of them.” That’s your compliment. Because you love the lusting implications behind it.
You flick your eyes up from his arm to his face, and sure enough, he’s got his eye on you as well. It’s almost a crime that it took this long for the two of you to come together like this. You’ve been neighbors in coding class for the past few weeks, and yet you were too busy with the popular crowd and he was too busy not giving a fuck about them. All you want to do now is make up for lost time.
The only thing that distracts you from the boy is a puffy tail minding its own business in the corner of your eye. When you look down, you’re pleasantly surprised to see the tiniest fluffball dropping a mouse toy at your feet.
“Ooh kitty,” you squeal as you squat down to play with the pink-nosed darling. It’s so tiny it fits in the palm of your hand, and its meows sound more like squeaks. “Wait, is this the newborn you were talking about?”
Jungkook nods. “I found her about a week ago and she’s been a menace ever since. Especially in the middle of the night.”
“Is that why you’ve been falling asleep in class lately?” You like the thought of him scolding the kitten for zooming around at 4AM only to fall back asleep with her on his chest. You’ll take a cat dilf any day.
“Yeah. But it also doesn’t help that the professor never says anything important.” He picks up the mouse toy and drops it off with her stash of goodies including a pink bed, a pink blanket, and a pink bunny plushie. The kitten hops into the bed, cuddles up with her bunny, and has the boy cover her up with the blanket. What a spoiled little thing. “So what’s this project about again?”
“You’d know if you were listening!” Gosh, you can’t stand smart people who sleep through every lecture and still come out on top while you’re taking notes and working your ass off. You still want to fuck him though.
“I’m just fucking with you again.” He finally cracks a whole ass smile and it’s beautiful. You’re mesmerized by it as he scoots you over to the computer in his room. “I already finished it, by the way.”
So much for fulfilling your dreams of coding with an exceptionally handsome boy. With a dramatic sigh of disappointment, you run the program on his screen.
As expected, it runs smoothly, free of any bugs. He even threw in an interactive portion with a sleeping kitty. Total cat dad vibes. It’s great, and there’s really no need for you to tamper with the work he’s done. But you refuse to give him the satisfaction of being the one to carry you on this project. Besides, you have an idea of how you can spice up the program and expand on the kitty part.
You spend a good amount of time going through the code line-by-line and inserting small bits here and there. Once you get to the kitty part, you add in a function to wake up the cat and have it start dancing around to a few different songs from your favorite kpop group. When it’s all set, you run it back, earn Jungkook’s stamp of approval, and submit it for your professor to grade.
“Are you sure that Jim guy wasn’t trying to be your partner just to get a good grade? Nerd.” He leans on the chair over your shoulder. You’d correct him on Big Tim’s name, but you’re too focused on the way he looks at you with such gorgeous dark eyes.
“If that were the case, he would’ve asked for a threesome with you too, Nerd,” you fire back. This is the kind of banter that results from putting two smartasses and an immense amount of sexual tension in the same room together. You want more of it.
“Not particularly interested in a threesome with him,” he says rather casually. “Doubt you would be either, judging by that game of dodgeball you were playing yesterday.”
“Well yeah, he’s kind of an asshole.” You shudder at the thought of almost being stuck as Big Tim’s partner. It’s thanks to Jungkook that you escaped that fate. 
“Why do you hang out with those people anyway?” He spins your chair around to face outward and lays himself down on his bed next to the kitten who just woke up from her nap. She’s cleaning her paws like a good girl.
“I know I have a lot of shallow connections, but I figure if I surround myself with enough people, I’ll eventually have to run into someone I genuinely like, right?” You hop out of the chair, sit your ass on the edge of the bed, and convince yourself it’s to play with the kitty. She jumps down right away to catch a fly but you don’t chase after her.
“Found anyone yet?” he asks, gazing up at the ceiling like it’s the night sky. What did you ever do to deserve seeing this handsome boy and his tattoos all laid out on the bed like this? You’d do it a million more times.
“There might be a boy I’m interested in,” you hum.
“I bet it’s Jim, isn’t it?” he laughs. Why is “Jim” the one name this guy knows from your class? “You know, like a passionate love-hate type thing?”
“Fuck no.” You shimmy your ass closer to him and block his scenic view of the ceiling with your face. Now it’s you he’s gazing up at. You’re free to admire the tempting ring around his soft lip, the glimmering piercing through his brow, and all his beautiful features that have drawn you to him. You look him in the eye and lie because you know he already knows the truth. “Never mind, it’s no one.”
“Really?” All of a sudden, he pulls your body down against the mattress and climbs on top of you. One hand holds your wrists above your head while the other caresses your cheek. He leans in close but stops half a centimeter from your lips. “I was under the impression you were kind of into me.”
“What makes you say that?”
“You were begging to work on this project with me yesterday, fondling my arm as soon as you got here, practically eyefucking me a minute ago,” he pauses as his hand unzips your jeans and presses into the folds between your legs. “And you’re pretty wet for me right now.”
You want to lunge at him and devour his lips to prove how right he is, but your arms are still being held captive. He smirks at your failed attempt to bite him. For now, you have to settle for squeezing your thighs against his hand to get the tiniest bit of stimulation. 
“So if it’s not me, who’s this boy you’re interested in?” he whispers into your ear as you feel his hand slipping out from your pleasure spot. “I won’t continue until I get an answer.”
It’d be kinda badass if you had the willpower to keep your lips sealed for at least a minute, but you give in after 0.3 seconds. You never had a fighting chance anyway. “It’s you, Jungkook.”
He smashes his lips against yours, his tongue practically down your throat when he says, “Good girl.”
The ring around his lower lip is cold to the touch, but you keep going in for more. You love the way he tastes—like sweet alcohol that encourages you to keep indulging in the high. He’s so addicting.
At the same time, he helps you kick off your jeans and slides his whole hand back into your panties. He swirls his fingers around, coating them in your lust before rubbing over your clit. The jolt of pleasure draws a soft moan from your mouth and gets your body nice and hot. Normally, you’d be eager to get your hands back to join in on the fun, but the boy somehow knows exactly how you like being touched and toyed with. Plus, you kinda like the idea of being so helpless beneath him.
Eventually, your panties come off, followed by your shirt and his. You get the perfect view of his full sleeve as well as the big shark tattoo on his ribs. If you weren’t so horny, you’d drop everything to analyze each piece in depth. But right now, all your weak mind can handle is admiring the shark.
As soon as he lets your wrists breathe, you run your fingers along his ribs, tracing the tattoo from head to tail. The lines are so smooth and pretty. He has great taste in art and apex predators. You’ll have to ask him for the artist later so you can get yourself a baby shark at your hip.
“Got any others I should know of?” you ask with two paws ready to tear his black jeans off of him. 
“Just one.” He presses his face into the crook of your neck and sucks hard to mark you as his. You can’t wait for Big Tim to see it on Monday. “You’re gonna have to earn it, though.”
You’ll do anything to get his pants off and find that final tattoo. You need to see his bare body in full, and you have an idea of how to earn it.
“Please?” For the hundredth time, you bring out the puppy eyes because that might be his only weakness. His body twitches a tiny bit, but you realize you have to take it up a notch with the dilf angle. “Please, daddy?”
The word not only makes your face hot but also taunts the bulge ready to burst out of his pants. He watches with immense focus as you unbuckle him and free his hard cock from all the fabric standing in its way. 
You assumed you would’ve had to search his skin for that last tattoo, but it’s staring you right in the face. A fat snake slithers along his cock, tempting you to stroke it with its seductive glare. You’d appreciate the design more if not for the fact that snakes eat cute little lizards like salamanders and chameleons, but that doesn’t mean it isn’t incredibly hot.
Without thinking, you wrap both of your hands around his length the same way you had with his arm. Jungkook would probably use the term “fondling” again if he wasn’t so entranced by your touch. If he’s like this with just your hands, you wonder how he’d fare with your whole mouth around him.
Just as you lick the drool from the corner of your lips, he lifts your chin up to meet his gaze. “If you do good today, I’ll let you have a taste tomorrow, yeah?”
Tomorrow is too long of a wait for a starved babe like yourself, but you nod anyway because you want to be praised again.
“Good girl,” he purrs as he removes the final piece of clothing over your breasts. Then he leans back to get your whole bare body in sight. “Can you show daddy how you want to be touched?”
You start by squeezing your breasts together and working your way down to your core. Your legs spread themselves open and your fingers glide right in. One hand pumps in and out of your hole while the other strokes your clit. You’re so wet you’d think you’d already orgasmed several times if you didn’t know any better.
With shy eyes, you glance up at the boy watching your every move. This is the first time someone has ever dropped everything to watch you touch yourself. You usually just tease your clit a little if the cock inside you isn’t enough, but never once has a boy given you his full attention like this. He might not take any notes in class, but he’s definitely jotting a few things down for the next time it’s his turn to play with you.
Your fingers speed up and your panting gets louder. How long is he going to make you suffer before he takes over? The one thing you need right now is for him to fuck you senseless.
But instead of getting handsy with you, he grabs his cock and forces you to watch—not that you’d look away anyway.
“Do you want this cock inside your tight little pussy?” he says rather calmly as he jerks off.
You nod as a gasp for more pleasure escapes you.
“Beg for it.”
“Please daddy,” you whimper, giving up the last of your dignity. “I need you inside my tight little pussy.”
“Such a good girl.” He throws your legs over his shoulders and pushes himself into you. It’s definitely a tight fit, but your body adjusts to him accordingly. You almost lose it when you hear the way he grunts your name. 
As he pounds in and out of you, you feel yourself getting dangerously close. “Jungkook, I’m—”
“Don’t cum yet,” he warns. “Not until I say so.”
You wish you’d known he was the type to torture you for one single release. If you’d known sooner, you would’ve tried to pace yourself. Now you’re stuck on the edge without permission to orgasm. You love it here.
In the meantime, he gives you some more sloppy kisses. His tongue doesn’t have to fight for dominance over your docile one, but he’s certainly not holding back. That, in combination with the forceful thrusting down below, is your definition of the best rough sex.
At some point, the pleasure begins to melt altogether into a foggy haze of feral lust. Your moans have been reduced to a broken record machine, and your poor body is just waiting to hear the word to finally hit its high. You don’t even know how much time has passed.
“You poor thing,” he growls into your mouth. On pure instinct, you tighten around him and feel him tense up. “Do you enjoy it when I tease you like this?”
You nod without thinking too hard about it.
“Think you can go another hour?”
Hell no, but you nod anyway.
“I’m not that mean,” he chuckles as his hands slide up and down your limp legs. “But good to know.”
He quickens the pace to build the pleasure back up with you still so tight around him. Your obnoxious moans and whimpers give porn star vibes. He better let you get your release soon if he doesn’t want any complaints from his neighbors.
“Please, Jungkook, I can’t—” you gasp, biting back the impending wave of pleasure. Your claw marks are etched into his ribs. “Please let me cum.”
Satisfied with your begging, he nods with the cockiest smile you’ve ever seen and gives you the okay. It feels like your whole body breaks into a million pieces of pure pleasure. Your back arches, your walls tighten even more around him, and your chest heaves up and down as you ride the wave out.
Not long after, he pulls out and pumps his fat cock over your breasts until they’re covered in his lust like two glazed donuts. He admires your glossy worn-out body for a good while before tossing you a hand towel to clean up. You feel timid and small all of a sudden. What if there’s nothing left to say after the excitement of sex has come and gone? What if he shrugs you aside like everyone else does once they get what they want from you?
“Did you really call me daddy?” He throws his pants back on and joins you back on the bed. You can tell he’s trying his best to hide a smile, but you see through him. It’s adorable.
“I thought you were into it, no?” Your face is flushed with heat again as you slip back into your outfit.
“It’s cute coming from you, I guess,” he shrugs as if he’s not aware of how weak he is to your baby girl charm. “I was just going with it because you said it first.”
“Well if you don’t like it, I won’t say it next time.” You give him a hmph for extra emphasis.
“I didn’t say that,” he clarifies, almost a little too quickly. You knew it. 
“Hey, can I ask you something?” Your voice is soft.
“Go for it.”
“Why did you invite me over even though you finished most of the project yourself?” It’s been in the back of your mind all day, although you did shove it away during the sex.
“Well, my little demon cat kept me up all night so I thought I might as well work on it. And you were hard set on coming here, weren’t you?” he says. You nod for him to continue. “But also, I wanted you to know that there’s at least one person in our class who’d save you from that house on fire.”
He’d choose you. That’s the sweetest thing anyone has ever said to you.
“Yeah, but you hate everyone else, so I’m your only option.” Your smartass can’t help but point out the flaw in his statement. If anything, it’s you challenging him one last time.
“Maybe you’re the only option that matters,” he hums to himself as if those words don’t mean a thing. Who knew a grumpy boy could say such soft things? And who knew you’d fall for it? 
If a hundred shallow friendships is what it took to bring you to this moment—this boy on this bed—then you’re glad you took that route. And you’re even happier that that route ends where this new one begins.
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spdrvyn · 1 year
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TSUNDERE MIGUEL O'HARA THAT IS DENYING HIS FEELINGS FOR READER WHILE HE ACTIVELY THINKS ABOUT THEM 24/7 AND KNOWS ALL THEIR CUTE LITTLE QUIRKS (READER CAN BE SPIDERMAN OR NORMAL PERSON YOUR CHOICE) PLEASE I NEED TRUNDERE MIGUEL SO MUCH IM DYING IM STARVING *sob sob cry sob*
love, your best friend Dre <3
i won't say i'm in love — MIGUEL O'HARA
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(( uhhh .... i have no clue who this motherfucker is! jk lol hi tommy [ you slut ] here is your severely in denial miguel fic, spoiler free. ))
"Lyla, arrange this mess."
Miguel waved his hand at the AI, eyes focused on the glowing screen in front of him. He always had the habit of keeping a messy desktop, though it wasn't a big problem for him considering his trusty artificial intelligence assistant.
To which the trusty artificial intelligence would poke and tease Miguel in response. At times, he really wondered if Lyla was secretly being controlled by a human. A pesky, occasionally annoying, childish human that constantly pushed his buttons.
"What's the magic word, Miguel?"
He groaned bringing his index finger and thumb to the bridge of his nose, massaging the stress lines that have formed from constantly being teased and played with.
"...Please."
Lyla lets out an electric hum, her avatar glitching into a thinking pose. She stares at Miguel with a confused look through her heart-shaped sunglasses. "Sorry. The signal in here is so bad. What was that?"
"I said, please, Lyla. Get to work."
"Oh, don't worry. I heard you the first time."
The man lets out a defeated sigh, he's given up on trying to defend himself against Lyla. Even when he's old and withered, this charade will continue like a never-ending circus show.
Multiple screens pop up in front of the AI, to which Miguel bashfully averts his gaze. He's normally organized enough, in the workplace but he's also very busy. Little things like putting files in the folders they belong simply evades his mind sometimes.
However, one file in particular stood out in front of him from the corner of his eye. It was a drive, among all the others that are colored in the regular shade of blue and labeled accordingly, this one was highlighted in pink with a little heart symbol at the end.
"Lyla, what's that?"
Her avatar glitches again into her in a sitting position, a little teacup in her hands as she takes a fake sip. "Hmm? I don't know, I don't see anything. Which one are you talking about?"
"Ay dios mío... The one in pink, Lyla. What is it?"
"Ohhh..." An obviously fake display of surprise makes itself present on Lyla's face, she opens the file. "This is a drive of all of the times you talked about that recruit. Lovingly, might I add."
Miguel's eyes darted around the screen, folding his arms over his chest. There were many, many videos of him. The scroll bar just kept going like there was no end.
Hesitantly, he pointed to one among the sea of videos and Lyla opened it. The playback goes as follows, the 'recording' is from her perspective, it seems.
Miguel is hunched over his desk, mumbling nonsense to himself until it becomes more coherent as Lyla approaches him.
"Whatcha' got there?"
The camera shifts and zooms over to Miguel's hand, to where he's holding a small tupperware. Filled to the brim with baked goodies, a small sticky note is pasted to the top of it however the writing is too tiny to make anything of it.
'They got me a gift.'
'That's the third one this week.'
His chest heaves as he lets out a deep sigh.
'...I know.'
A small moment of silence before Miguel continues speaking.
'Esto es tan tonto. I don't why they keep bringing me these... these things! I don't know why they keep smiling brighter than sun when they give them to me!'
Miguel frustratingly opens the tupperware, brings one of the pastries close to his mouth and takes a big bite. A small groan escapes his throat.
'I don't know what they're putting in these things to make them so delicious! Giving them to me, of all people. Stupid, stupid, stupid. So smart they are. Agile, strong, and capable and— and kind...'
Another bite.
'You know that you've gotten them gifts before, right?'
'But they all look idiotic next to this. Made with their precious time and care. Putting in the effort to make sure that they actually taste good and they do,'
Miguel closes the tupperware with a loud snap.
'¿A quién estoy engañando? They're amazing.'
"Miguel?"
That wasn't part of the recording. Miguel swipes at the screen and it fades out of existence, little pixels hovering in his sight before it completely disintegrates. Lyla disappears too as you swing onto the platform of his office.
He tenses up once he sees you, leaning a hand against his desk. God, he definitely did not want to look at you after what he just watched. He especially did not want to look at you because of the blush that stained his cheeks. Thankfully, mostly hidden by the darkness of his chambers.
Of course, you greeted him with the same warm smile.
"Haven't seen you all day today. Are you doing alright?"
"Fine. Doing fine. Just cleaning, why are you here?" Says Miguel, he despised how his heart pounded in his chest so loudly right now. Whenever he was around you.
Being so composed was what he was known for, what he was respected for. Yet, everytime you even look in the same direction as him, his exterior just melts.
"I just wanted to check in on you, was all. I noticed you haven't come out in a while, I brought you an empanada from the cafeteria just in case you were hungry."
You toss the small container to him and he catches it in one hand, he could hardly comprehend what was going on right now. Staring mindlessly at the box. "Thank you."
"Of course. Take care of yourself for me, I'll... head out now."
He watches over the edge as you fall off the platform, landing onto ledge that separates his desk from the rest of the room.
"Can you start ranting now? I want to get this drive up to 600 videos."
Miguel grumbles, opening the box and biting into the delectable snack before going back to organizing his desktop.
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cloudiinumaki · 19 days
Text
thank you, darling. — satoru gojo
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SCENARIO . . . — when you compliment him.
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NOTES ! — i feel like i could also write this scenario for the other characters but idk if im bothered ngl
WARNINGS ! — none tbh, gender-neutral as always.
REQUESTS OPEN !
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i think his reaction would be quite unsurprising, he's the strongest, after all— so of course, you'd feel like complimenting him. his reaction would be some teasing remark said in that usual cheerful and amused tone of his, because satoru gojo is nothing if not full of bravado.
he's heard so many compliments before, it's hard for this one to be particularly unique or heart-warming, but that may just be because he's not partial to compliments about his strength at all.
calling him powerful, the strongest, anything like that just feels dull in a way that's difficult to explain. he's heard it so many times before, and those words often just cross over into acknowledging his power, only reminding him of the insurmountable gap he'd tried so hard to bridge.
he'll accept the compliment in that nonchalant, arrogant way of his, but it's not as if it means much to him, honestly. if you want the compliment to actually touch him, to actually have an effect on him, it cannot be a compliment about that.
instead, compliment him about something almost mundane, like how you like it when he does some random thing. notice something that most wouldn't be bothered to pick out against all the usual confidence he exudes, and his other various talents and gifts.
those will be words he hasn't heard often, and you'll notice him still slightly as you say it, a near imperceptible thing that you notice and cherish nonetheless. telling him something like that is much more likely to have an effect on him, and his self-assured grin will widen, albeit with a more genuine look of appreciation in his cerulean blue eyes.
people weren't lying when they said that the eyes were the window to the soul.
as for when it comes to complimenting his looks, again, he's not going to lie and say that nobody's ever bothered to do so (because many have bothered, and it's been a recurring ego boost for him)— but, he will say that those same words feel warmer, more touching when it's you saying them.
like, during your late night conversations, offhandedly mentioning how pretty his eyes are as you curl up next to him, your eyes crinkling along with your gentle smile as your hand traces against the contours of his jaw. the reassuring knowledge that, as you compliment his eyes, it's not out of any calculated consideration for his six eyes ability, but instead simply appreciating it as a feature of his. appreciating it in just the same way as you appreciate his pale, ivory eyelashes, or his soft, pink lips, always seeming glossed.
faint moonlight spills into the room, past the sheer curtains that tremble slightly from the open window and cool night air, and you pull further into him subconsciously.
he should close the window, his mind reminds him, but he's not sure if he's bothered to move.
"so pretty," you murmur again softly, almost entrancing to him— as if it's just necessary that you tell him that again, no matter how much you have before. your hand falls away from tracing his jaw, and instead, you wrap your arms around him entirely, finding a comfortable position to rest properly.
from those two words, satoru can already tell you're becoming sleepier, your words more unabashed than in the day. your earlier conversation with him, always about the most random topics, had ceased for the most part; and, he briefly wonders why you still insist on them if you'll always fall asleep halfway through.
he doesn't mind, though. and, as he lets you embrace him, loosely returning the same gesture, he hopes that you probably won't remember how he's practically preening at your words, putty in your hands.
(somehow, you always do).
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imaniwriting · 9 months
Note
pregnancy with rafe?? maybe a bit of angst thrown in there??
𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐝 𝐦𝐲 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐝 (requests are open)
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Warnings: swearing, mentions of sex, Rafe not wanting to be involved at first, insecurity, unwanted pregnancy
Summary: when rafe finds out that you’re pregnant he doesn’t want to be involved in the child’s life feeling like he wouldn’t be a good father.
Genre: Angst with fluff at the end
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This wasn’t supposed to happen. How could this be happening? You currently were pacing around in the middle of your room. So many dreams you had went crushing down. You ran your fingers through your hair but the knots in it were stopping you to do it smoothly.
“Fuck,” you gasped out loud not realizing that you were holding your breath. “Fuck, fuck, fuck” you sat down on your carpet leaning against your bed. You and Rafe had been doing so good, your relationship was great, sex was great (obviously) even the handle with substances Rafe had fixed and now he would obviously want nothing to do with you.
There suddenly was a light Knock on your door making you immediately jump up. You totally forgot that you had texted Rafe to come over the confidence you had earlier with telling him was vanishing with every thought that ran through you head.
“Y/n?” You heard Rafe ask there was a lace of worry in his voice you looked back at the text you sent him only now realizing how that sounded.
“We need to talk. Now.” It read. You shut your eyes and slowly opened your bedroom door. “Hi,” you breathed out smiling at him brushing out the hair that was in front of your face. “Hi, baby what’s wrong what do you need to talk about?” He asked in a sweet voice walking into your room which was not organized like it had always been.
“Uhm,” you started looking down at your feet not ready to tell him. Rafe looked around the room before his eyes landed on you again he walked over to you cupping your cheeks gently forcing you to look up. “What is it baby?” He smiled reassuringly making your breathing slow a bit.
“Impregnant” you mumbled looking into his blue eyes “what?” He laughed “I didn’t catch that baby” he said you internally groaned he was in a really good mood. “I’m pregnant” you said.
These two words made Rafe’s whole body weak, his face fell and the hands that were once warm turned cold and were removed from you cheeks. “What?” He whispered hoping he didn’t hear right. You nodded tears threatening to spill. “I’m sorry” was all you could muster up from the pain in your throat.
Rafe shook his head running his hands through his hair. “How did this happen? I had a fucking condom every time we fucked.” He said slowly anger building up. You didn’t say anything you eyes back onto your feet.
“Fuck I can’t do this.” He breathed out making you snap your head up at him. Was he seriously dipping? “You know i can’t do this y/n” he said his eyes finally meeting yours. It was true, you knew what he was thinking; the abused becomes the abuser.
“I can’t do this, I can’t be a father y/n” he said and that was the last thing he told you before he stormed out of the room leaving you to break down and hate every part of yourself. You can’t live without him. He was your anchor you were his.
_____
It had been two days since you last talked you had been slumping in your bed cuddling with your pillow which had his sweat shirt on. Crying sleeping and watching rom coms which made you cry more was your daily routine. You hadn’t eaten a real meal in these two days.
Currently you were watching little women bailing your eyes out every time Laurie came on the screen just because. “Well im not a poet im just a woman” you mouthed alongside the actor. It had been the third time you watched this movie in just 2 days.
Suddenly a knock could be heard at the door. Making you shoot up from your bed. You explicitly told your family that you were going through something so they could leave you alone. “Leave!” You yelled before the person could even enter.
You grabbed your laptop and went under your blanket. The door then opened and you could hear steps. “I said leave!” You yelled from under your blanket. “I’m sorry I can’t, i need to talk to you” you heard and your breathing stopped for a moment. It was Rafe. You shot up from under your blanket not caring that you had smeared mascara all over your face or that your hair was held up in a messy bun.
“What?” You breathed out refreshed at seeing him again. “I’m sorry for storming out.” He said making you nod he took place beside you moving the pillow with his t shirt. “I’m also sorry for the things i said but they are true.” He said making you sit up beside him. “I can’t be a father y/n you know that.” He continued making you frown.
“Rafe for all my life i loved you and you got so much better than you were at the start. I mean god, you would be the greatest father because you know exactly what you shouldn’t do with a child.” You said tears were forming in both of your eyes. “Please Rafe” you started. “Please do this with me. Because I know damn well I can’t do this alone.”
He nodded slowly before you grabbed his face. “Look at me.” You started again. Rafe slowly looked into your eyes “you will never be your father, i wont let you.” He nodded and smiled it didn’t take long for you to completely throw yourself at him engulfing him in a kiss. Then slowly tears started flowing.
“God, fuck you Rafe, i hate you.” You said pushing him away from you. “Baby? Why are you crying?” He laughed “i don’t know.” You said crying more. “Come on baby let’s get you cleaned.” He said grabbing your hand and picking you up bridal style.
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cinnamostar · 9 months
Text
blankets and kisses
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pairing : chan x gn!reader
summary : the bitter iciness of winter wore you down, yet your boyfriend knew how to melt away your sorrows
wc : 913
cw : alludes to seasonal depression, established relationship, comforting bf chan, fluffy, not proof read
a/n : this was entirely self indulgent LMAO sorry if formatting is bad though, im on my phone and wrote this kinda quickly bc i felt inspired hehe . also im floridian so i know nothing abt snow or winter so i did my best
in the hushed whispers of the night, you found yourself yearning his comforting embrace, a closeness you always craved and yearned for. the chilling zephyrs brushing against your skin, your hair bellowing in response as you shiver under the icy winds the harsh winter always brought in its company.
you couldn’t bear this season alone, it was taxing to repeat the same mundanity and solitude adulthood had introduced you to. daylight was always so fleeting and witnessing it had become a luxury during these cold months.
it was always the same deep blue morning sky that greeted you as you made your way to work, and after eight grueling hours, the same sky would be waiting to be welcome you once more, except this time with the sun rays barely peeking out from the edge of the sky. you hated this time of year, and you could never understand the holiday joy and excitement everyone seemed to buzzing with around you. what was there to enjoy?
the weather was unpleasant, the low temperatures of the world pricking the tip of your nose as you briskly made your way home, trudging your way through the light sheets of snow that covered the sidewalks. the glacial breeze never relented its attacks on you, always piercing through the layers of warmth you adorned yourself with.
the lack of sunlight allowed dreary, dark clouds take over your mind as you surrendered yourself to exhaustion. how much longer would your days be like this? how much longer would the wintry season plague your mind with somber thoughts?
you crack for the door open to your shared apartment, basking in its inviting warmth that provided you refuge from the world you had just shut behind you. the comforting smell of fresh linen making its presence known as a grateful smile graces your features. you gently place your bag on the small side table, shedding the layers of coats you had worn to endure freezing winds, not caring that they’d remain on the floor.
your mind was too focused on finding solace and reprieve to worry about your belongings as your feet dragged you to your living room. your own personal source sunshine that kept your afloat during these difficult times was waiting for you on the sofa, his head turning to your direction once he heard the pitter patter of your steps.
a smile stretches across his face, his eyes becoming crescents as he lifts himself off the couch to meet you half way.
“hi baby,” chan whispers as his arms envelope you, a chaste kiss landing on your forehead, melting away the restricting stiffness the icy winds had diseased you with. the tension in your muscles loosen under his summery touch, your mind relaxing knowing you had found safety in his arms once again.
“hi,” was all you could muster out, your sleepiness catching up to you as your heavy eyelids flutter shut, snuggling your head into his chest, taking in the comforting thumping of his heartbeat.
chan’s hand found itself resting atop your head, his other drawing gentle circles on your back, “i warmed up some blankets for us to cuddle up in,” he spoke, “i think you deserve some rest.” he knew this time of year was suffocating for you and without fail, he found ways to bring light and warmth into your gloomy world, whether it was through gentle words or acts of love, he was the healing your ailing mind needed.
his words were soothing to your worn-down soul, a small smile appearing on your face as you peer into his eyes, chin resting on his chest. “that sounds so nice, thank you, chan,” you feebly mutter.
without skipping a beat, chan swiftly lifts you up, carrying you to your bedroom as a hearty giggle escapes him, you squealing at the unexpected action. he softly drops you atop the bed, the sheets rippling under the sudden weight as you lost yourself to a fit a giggles, blood rushing to your face as you succumbed to the bustling butterflies that made themselves home in your stomach. chan lays himself next to you, hastily pulling a toasty blanket over your bodies. his arms pull you into him, your body fitting snuggly into his as his leg rests over yours. he cups your face with one hand as his lovingly gazes into your eyes, his eyes sparkling with adoration as he drank in every detail before peppering your face with kisses.
airy laughs continue to leave both of you, overwhelming you as each kiss tickles your flustered skin, leaving burning warmth and desire behind each kiss as your eyes squeeze shut. after bearing his feverish affection, he then places one last, languid kiss on your lips, lingering for a few moments before pulling away, beaming at your dazed state.
“i love you, y/n.”
“i love you too, chan.”
despite the brutal winter season that sapped the happiness out of you, as long as you had chan by your side, you knew you’d be able to uncover the joyful glee everyone else seemed to have. his very presence shooed away the heavy snow clouds that darkened your thoughts, rays of sunshine peaking out to thaw out the icy shell that encased your heart, reminding you that this too shall pass. somehow, in the midst of harsh snowstorms, he was a blooming flower that emanated infectious jubilation, and you were blessed to be able to bask underneath it.
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skatingbi · 11 months
Text
So hear me out on my headcanon guys:
Sanji with heterochromia (i cant spell that fuckin word man..) where one eye is blue and another is brown. He always hides the blue eye.
The first one to notice is Zoro, who is immediantly like "holy shit youre eyes are pretty" and sanji is like "what the FUCK"
Actually fuck it im gonna write about this nobody can stop me.
Sometimes, on lonley nights in the gallery, when Sanji is busy prepping, he looks in the reflection of his knife. Underneath the frizzy mess of a fringe that is part of his hair reveals the blue eye he struggles looking at. He stares, scrutinizing that light blue in the gleam of his knife gripped tightly in his hand. He looks away to force his attention back on prep work. His hands are always slightly unsteady after those moments. He always ends up with a cut on his hand one way or another on those nights.
When Sanji was a kid, his brothers would use his heterochromia as a weapon against him. He was the freak with two colored eyes. They would say his blue eye was creepy, too. Not only was he weak but also too different to be called their brother.
When you're a kid, you take these insults to heart. Eventually, when you're barely into adulthood, they'll still plague you. They become a part of you, just like how Zeff's teachings became a part of Sanji.
Judge looked at his eyes with disgust masked by indifference. It was another reason for Sanji to assume why he was the failure. The outcast. The runt of the litter.
His mother had blue eyes. She always claimed Sanji got his blue eye from her because her father had heterochromia, too. That was the only time little Sanji felt normal. When she died, Sanji started to grow out his hair to hide the only thing he had left of her: her eyes.
Now, Sanji still hides her eyes from view. Realistically, Sanji is fully aware that none of the crew would give a rats ass what he looked like. Regardless, old habits die hard. He feels safe under the mask he made for himself. As he goes about preparing lunch, perhaps grilled sea king again with how luffy is always eager to fight those things, he lets his mind wander to his eyes more. While hands expertly move through his knife like an extension of his body, he thinks about the mess of blond hair that's always in the way. He'd never admit it out loud, but his hair actually bothers him. Since it started growing out, it gets everywhere; his mouth, in his eyes, and tangled in the buttons of his shirt. Is sanji happy with his longer hair? Absolutely. It's a nusiance to leave it down constantly, though.
As he's thinking this, he's blowing the fringe of hair covering his face out of the way every so often so it stops tickling his nose. He continues to evenly slice through a portion of sea king meat until somebody, Nami he realizes immediantly, speaks up.
"Do you need a hair tie, sanji?" Nami asks sweetly. Her smile is radiant, as always, while she looks up from the map shes been studying. Sanji didnt even realize Nami came in and made the kitchen table into a study until now, but he doesnt dwell on it. Nami is welcome in his kitchen, after all.
"Oh no, thank you, Nami-swan! I think I just need a haircut soon," Sanji lies as he's moving through the kitchen. He gives Nami a quick smile before turning back to the meat on the cutting board and avoids Nami's gaze under the disguise of being busy. His lie wasn't as believable as he wanted it to be, especially when he's stumbling over his words while he is usually eloquent with them towards Nami and Robin.
"But until then, you should take one! I probably have hundreds lying around my room anyways," She says. It's a peace offering designed to be in Sanji's language of communication. It secretly says he's getting that hairtie whether he wants it or not, and Sanji is weak enough to accept the offering. He takes the hair tie with a grateful smile, wrapping it around his wrist and going back to his current task. Nami and Sanji work in comfortable silence after that, but the hair tie weighs on his wrist like a weighted bracelet.
A few days pass by. Through every single one, he stares at the hair tie in the morning. He really should tie his hair back. It reaches his shoulders for gods sake, and it keeps getting in his mouth - but that small part of him that clings onto grief like its all that he knows refuses to. He doesn't think he can bring himself to share the only part of himself that he truly loves deep down. What if the crew really thinks it's weird? What if his brothers are right?
These what if's roam in the back of his mind. They lurk just beneath the surface like an unknown predator hidden in murky water. He ignores it along with the anxiety that crawls up his throat every time he looks at his wrist.
Then, a week passes by. Now he's in his kitchen making a simple breakfast for his nakama. Franky, in particular, will enjoy this since his tastes lie within American style food most of the time. He focuses on seasoning the eggs, some of them cooked differently to cater to everyone's tastes. While he goes through the familiar and therapeutic motions of cooking, the door opens to reveal an annoying head of mossy hair and the steady noise of three swords bumping each other at the hip.
" Oi, go to sleep in your own bunk. I dont need you stinkin' up my kitchen while im trying to work." He utters without looking up from the stove.
"Why can't I just sleep here shit cook?" Zoro grunts. Sanji hears him shuffle around on the gallery's couch behind him. He's probably lying down, or maybe he'll sleep sitting up again, or maybe he'll watch Sanji cook. That's the most irritating one, which usually ends up with them fighting out on the deck one way or another.
"Because youre fuckin' annoying, get out."
"The hell I am, I'm taking a nap here."
"Oh my - You know what?" Sanji whips around to glare at Zoro, making sure the knife he was using is now in his hand to point at the source of his ire, "Fine, but if I hear a single snore out of you I'm kicking you into the ocean!" He threatens and turns around to finish up with breakfast. By now, all he has left is pancakes. The batter was prepped earlier, so now it's just focusing on pouring evenly. It's task that's menial but still important to him regardless.
His hair is covering his face too much. He tries to shake his head to flip it to the side. It falls back to where it was before he can pick the bowl of batter back up. He brushes it over his shoulder, and it simply flows back over it. He blows his hair out of the way, a classic move, but not even that works and he's slamming the bowl down on the counter before he can even stop himself and walks away from his work to grab the hairtie from around his wrist. In a few fluid motions, he ties his hair back haphazardly into a poor attempt at a low bun, but it's out of his face, and now he can focus.
He's too deep in concentration to even remember that he has heterochromia in the first place. Cooking lowers his guard unlike anything else in the world. The gallery acts like a safe space and cooking is his comfort. He still forgets, too, while calling for Zoro to get his lazy ass up to help since he's decided to loiter in his kitchen.
"Hey moss, if you're gonna laze around my kitchen, set the table for me." His request demand is met with a middle finger, which Sanji gladly returns as he walks over to the couch to kick Zoro on the stomach. The half asleep annoyance is now suddenly alert and glares at Sanji for a moment before it's quickly replaced with a look Sanji has yet to add to his mental notes he likes to call "Marimo Dictionary". Zoro's eyebrows are slightly raised, and his eyes glitter with something Sanji rarely sees. He's never been able to place a name on that look. Now he's confused. "What? Dont give me that youre tired crap youre not fuckin 10." He says.
Zoro is still looking at him, though, and now Sanji looks back with confusion because what the fuck is he-
Oh. His eyes.
Shit.
Sanji rips the hairtie out of his hair at light speed, probably pulling a few strands out by accident in the process but he could honestly care less when theres something more important. Like whatever the fuck just happened.
Before he can turn away and go set the table himself to distance himself from the marimo, Zoro's hand moves suddenly to grab his wrist, stopping him from running away.
"Wait, wait, hold on," Zoro pleads. And what the fuck. Zoro has never said anything like that and its fucking with Sanji's head because what the fuck. "You...uh." He continues in his signature graceless way. "Your eyes..." He pauses after that, sitting up and looking at Sanji, but not just looking, he's looking.
"Marimo," Sanji's own voice is riddled with anxiety with how shaky it is now. "Let me go dumbass," He demands but it could have been mistaken for him begging with how much he's struggling to keep himself together.
He's anticipating the worst. He knows what he's expecting. Sanji has experienced it countless times before, and he's aware he will again right now while a pancake is probably burning on the pan for all he knows.
It doesnt.
Zoro is looking at him still, maintaining eye contact but also darting between both eyes. He's looking at him like those golden eyes are looking into his soul and its too much.
It's too much because Zoro's response is uncharacteristically soft in so many ways. Zoro speaks to him like he's speaking with reverence, "Your eyes are beautiful."
Sanji shatters on the gallery floor there. His soul is bare for Zoro to see suddenly and that terrifies Sanji. Nobody has ever told him he's beautiful. Especially his eyes. He yanks his wrist from Zoro's grasp and speed walks to the stove to turn it off and remove the burnt pancake from the pan. He doesnt respond. He cant, not when his heart flutters when it should have been anchored down by rejection.
Then, Sanji walks up to Zoro, grabs onto both his shoulders, pushes him out the gallery door with surprisingly little resistance, and slams it shut. He leans against the door, sliding down until he's sitting on the floor with his head tucked between his knees. His face is burning and his face is probably red like a tomato right now. He stares at the ground with wide eyes and a weirdly giddy feeling in his chest and stomach nearly akin to happiness but also dangerously close to feeling freaked the hell out.
"What the fuck."
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jasmines-library · 3 months
Note
Hello!
Truthfully, I know only surface level information about DC, but I've really enjoyed all your fics for the Batfam💕
Only take this request if it sparks something for you and you can write whatever form, being HCs, imagine, etc!
I'd like to request something for a (gn) civilian reader who is friends w/ the Batfam, but recently got superpowers that are magical girl-esque. I imagine reader was in the wrong place, wrong time situation w/ some criminals and got powers from an alien artifact. Their powers are sparkely and elegant but pretty flashy as well. Their tranaformation actually stuns people into watching and a lot of their moves only work if there is flair and finesse to them.
Reader is already struggling w/ if they want to be a new vigilante, but they’re mostly embarrassed by how showy and pretty their powers are in comparison to the dark and brooding Batfam. They feel out of place next to them and hate becoming the center of attention.
Sorry if this idea is a bit out there, but ty for letting me be indulgent in your ask box 💕 Love your writing!!
Acceptance
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⛤⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽⛧☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅⛤
Note: Not really sure what i think of this one but im trying to clear out my inbox so people can request again. Thanks for requesting anon!
Word Count: 600
⛧ BATFAM MASTERLIST ⛧
⛤⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽⛧☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅⛤
The first thing you recalled was the pain. Fiery and burning, radioactive through your veins. The second was the light. So bright that it was practically burned into your retinas. And the third was the ringing sensation that was too stubborn to leave your ears. It made your head throb and your eyes water. The city is cold as you walk through the streets, wandering aimlessly with little to nowhere to go and with even less to do. 
Not too long ago, you found yourself in a bit of a situation. A ‘wrong place, wrong time’ kind of situation. The feeling of icy cold fingers wrapping around you will never leave your mind. The feeling of being tied down and exposed to…whatever it was they used to experiment with will always have a permanent place in your mind. And although the memories were there…..most of them were hazy. Glimpses. Fragments of memories. You thought that perhaps you were in and out of consciousness. Or that whatever strange artifact you were exposed to fucked with your mind. Nevertheless, you now have these….strange abilities. Beautiful, yet strange. Enthralling. 
“Still brooding?” A voice sounded behind you, light, full of amusement and belonging to none other than Dick Grayson clad from head-to-toe in his nightwing get up; black except for a splash of blue across his chest and over his shoulders. 
“It’s not brooding” you corected, hardly sparing him a glance before continuing down the street. You had encountered the vigilantes many times. Sometimes you found yourself on the same case as them. And each and every time they would come practically begging for you to join them. Tim, Dick’s little brother had pieced together your situation alarming quickly. He knew you had nowhere to go. So in came offer after offer for you to join them. You had repeatedly declined. Not that you didn’t like the vigilantes; in fact you found them rather amusing. It was the fact that you felt out of place with abilities like yours. It was easier to work alone.
“Oh yeah?” Dick caught up with you quickly, his larger strides matching your own with ease. “Then what would you call it?”
“None of your business, that’s what.” You replied, but there was a soft grin on your lips.
Nightwing just tilted his head with an unamused look. 
“What’s that look for?” You teased, continuing to walk.
“Come on. You know what i'm going to ask”
“No.” You answer immediately.
“But–”
“No.”
“Why not? You’re wasting your potential here.”
“Because.”
Dick let out a frustrated sigh, deadpanning at you as he brought the two of you to a stop. “You’re impossible.”
“No. it's embarrassing.”
Dick’s eyebrows shoot up at that. “Embarrassing?”
“My powers are…flashy. I don’t want to be the centre of attention. It’s embarrassing.”
He frowned, eyebrows knitting together as he turned to face you. “You’re embarrassed of them?”
“....i guess.”
“Sweetheart, look at me. You have nothing to be embarrassed about. Seriously.”
“No?”
Dick looks at you as if you committed a crime. “Course not. What you’ve got is really special.”
“You think so?”
“I know so.” He says. “I'm serious. Your powers could save lives, Kid. Consider it.”
“I……fine.”
“You’re serious?” His face lights up. “You’ll join us.”
“Yes. But don’t get used to it. I won’t always let you get your way.”
⛤⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽⛧☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅
BATFAM TAGS
@aestheticdaisies @hearts4robs @xxrougefangxx @mamapucket @hell-o-kittys @harleycao @batfamsstuff @alicedawitchbish @killxz @rosecentury
⛤⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽⛧☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅⛤
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