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pranabefall · 6 days ago

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⠀⠀QINGXIN IN THE MOUNTAIN.⠀⠀⸺ ⠀⠀zhongli.

syn. while the divine war rages on, you find yourself entangled in the company of a wounded god and reservations or not, you don't have the heart to let someone die on your watch.

TW. ⸺ beta read, long oneshot like seriously it's over 14k, mentions of war and past death, seclusion and wounds. this work contains 18+ contents so minors, you know the drill, unprotected sex, half-dragon zhongli, reader has no gendered pronouns but has female parts, 4k words worth of smut guys get ready.

LOG. ⸺ this is another repost of this fic after my old account got deleted on accident. taken from my old blog lol, a buffer as i work on my current wip XD. this work has been marked mature for containing smut. readers below the age of 18 / ageless blogs and antis, do not interact.

“i want to do with you what spring does with the cherry trees.”

— PABLO NERUDA.

Curiosity , you learned, was a reckless maverick in every right. Your mother told you of its consequences, of the people who wandered too far from the safety of your village and the watchful eye of your deity, and she told you of their death and the disaster they reaped alongside it.

Curiosity was what cost you — and you knew , you knew better than to indulge in its traitorous little tug when you wake, the scent of petrichor in abundance and the chill of a rainstorm’s aftermath prickling your skin.

“Forget about it.” you tell yourself when you rub the sleep out of your eyes.

“Forget about it.” you tell the reflection staring up at you, her brows furrowed with a familiar sternness. It scatters when you dip your hands into the basin, the icy water stinging your fingertips.

“Forget about it.” you breathe out as you lean against the doorframe of your small home, staring out at the expanse of green and the fog that had settled a few feet below.

Yet here you were , scaling down a mossy slope, your bare feet damp from the dew it trod over and your hair still messy from your sleep. You could dimly recall something the previous night between the rains, between the crash of thunder and the crackle of lightning. It was a sound too distinct and out of place in a storm, something akin to the beginnings of an earthquake before an unknown force cuts its life short.

Your head swivels to the side. You couldn’t see much past the mist save for what was in front of you and you clamber down with a little more prudence till the ground evens out a bit more and the screen before you dissipates. You could see nothing out of place, save for a few upturned trees and your shoulders slump. It was all for nothing , you realize and a tinier voice dares to whisper a spiteful little ‘dammit’ .

You turn, casting one last glance over the clearing, then make your way back uphill. It was a wasted attempt and as you stew in your own self-berating and disappointment, you almost miss the faint crackle behind you. It was just the wind , you reason. There was little cause for it to be anything else. What could possibly make its way up here ?

When you hear it a second time, you freeze, something cold jolting at your bones.

Well shit .

It doesn’t take too long to find the source, save for trudging through the mud and a few of the murkier parts past the tree line — but you find it by the time the sun shifts the barest fraction to the west..

“ Ah — ” was the most your throat could choke out as shock swallowed you whole, like ice water.

There is a trail of gold on the earth, and it leads up to the slumped form of a man, his robes stained with the same gilted shade and his breath leaving shallow puffs of air where he lay, motionless and seemingly dead.

Well — fucking — shit . You mind shudders, your thoughts screaming and splitting up against your head like some panicked beast. It was chaos at its core, it was the frenzied scrape of control.

You were no fool. The man before you, both massive in frame and presence, was one amongst the hundreds of those touched by divinity — god or not — whose names were uttered and praised amidst this war. There was nothing distinctly human about him; not his clothes, not the horns that curled atop his skull and the brown scales smattered across, not the ichor he bled out — nothing .

For a moment, or maybe more, you stare down at him, long and hard as you try to wrangle your rationality back and think of what move to make. You could not afford the trouble that comes with aiding a foreign being and the land you settled on could house any force hostile to the man at your feet. A shaky breath escapes, then another. You were trembling now, just a little, daring to take a step back, then one more.

Kill him , another voice snaps. It was twisted and its words breathed acrid revulsion. Get it over with, he’s not worth the pain.

You consider it, for the tiniest bit of a second till he lets out a shudder and shifts with tense shoulders, his grunts labored and streaked with muted agony — those darker thoughts quickly flatline to scattered anxiety and the hand that brushes the blade at your hip falls limp. Not now, perhaps . You could just leave him here, let nature run its course.

You could do that , you decide with a semblance of confidence.

Of course you could.

Of course .

Your shuffling comes to a stop and you're backtracking immediately, your pace holding an urgent bounce with every step. There is a feverish jerk to your movements when you settle beside him, and a storm of emotions raging in your chest. It does little to ease you — little does, these days — and you press up on his shoulders in an attempt to roll him over onto his back.

It happens so swiftly, a blur of gold and black that shadowed your periphery before you were slammed down with eyes like uncut cor lapis glaring down at you. You scramble, clawing at your neck, at the digits pressed up against your windpipe and your pulse and it beats faster and faster and faster . One tiny move and you’d be left for dead.

( A part of you is stunned — for even wounded and weakened from some unknown, unspoken battle, the quavering power within him seemed to beat strong. You feel a mix of thrilled awe and terror turn in your stomach. )

His gaze hardly falters, roving at your form before his grasp on you releases and he mutters something akin to an apology, collapsing again. His eyes were still open, watching you beneath a haze of pain and deliriousness, stiffening now and then when you so much as move. The strength he showed, no matter how small it was, is gone and there is the slightest hint of vulnerability beneath the stripped layers of stone.

Your instincts scream at you to run yet you stay rooted in place, coming to sit up and hover by his side. In the end, your own concern and pity won out. “Y-you’re wounded.” you try to reason, only to be met with a grunt. You find yourself wincing as you stutter over your words, your voice hoarse from months of disuse. “Please, l-let me help. My h-home is c-close b-by.”

Feeble , you chide yourself amidst it all, old, old regrets tearing at your mind and clawing at your thoughts. You shut your eyes, letting your muscles relax and you try again.

Tugging at his arm serves to be fruitless. He was too large for you to carry over and your first attempt gives that away well enough. The gold in his veins seems to dim with the passage of time and you fear his life slipping away under your watch. “I n-need you to w-walk…” your plea is almost caught in your throat and you have to wrench it out to let it be heard. He tilts his head your way. “You’re too h-heavy…” you try to reason.

Another grunt sounds out and thankfully , his form rises. You’re quick to move to his side, supporting him against your shoulder, the thrum of elemental energy strong beneath your hold. He practically oozed it and it feels like what the storm felt like — the trembling earth itself.

You don’t say much after that, leading him back to your home, your hand and clothes staining a bright gold.

Perhaps your house would have been a little cleaner had you known you’d have a guest over. When you lead the the being inside, you scan the small space with a sense of perplexity, hoping he wouldn’t scrutinize the sight too much ( your mother always seemed to emphasize the need for a well kept living space — should she see you now, you know she’d be rolling in her grave with indignity ).

He stumbles a little, letting out a guttural snarl and you flinch, almost dropping his weight onto the floor when you feel claws close down on your arm and press against your scarred skin. You hiss softly and he gives a little jolt, his hold on you releasing, leaving little but the crumpled sleeve of your tunic behind.

“How much — ” he cannot finish the sentence, his nose wrinkling up and he almost looks a little feral underneath the light.

“Just a l-little more.” you assure, cracking the barest of smiles as you cross the room and lay him down on your bedroll. He was tall enough as is, and you think his horns would scrape up against the ceiling of this house should he stand upright.

The bedroll itself was pathetically small beneath him, but you couldn’t throw a fuss about it, working away at his clothes in relative silence, steeling yourself up in preparation for the worst.

The clasps and the belts and sashes are undone by nimble fingers and as the layers peel away, you come to a stop. It was not a pretty sight, his wounds, the clawed lacerations criss crossing across his torso like patchwork. You doubt you could salvage much and you almost give up at the spot, pulling away the rest of his clothing. The worst one splits across his chest and you look to the side, battling out the vertigo and the nausea threatening to creep up.

He’d have been dead at this point, had the blood in his veins be that of a mortal’s and not something inhuman. In some convoluted sense, he was lucky.

Stop cowering , you hiss internally. Pull yourself together .

The sound of rustling clothes is all you could hear after, followed by the clinking of metal and the sharp tang of alcohol. Your movements are almost robotic — and you had done this plenty of times before, cleaning the wounds of children and soldiers. But this wasn’t home and you doubt any soothing words would stoke at the feelings of a god.

When you return to his side, his forehead is damp with sweat.

“ Shit — ”

His skin was warm . Could an immortal being fall ill? Was that even a possibility?

“I will be fine.” he rasps out and you jump, snapping his way as you hold the clothes closer to your chest in defense. He turns his head, peering at you and you think you see a stubborn glimmer beneath the usual masked strain and impassivity. “My wounds will heal in time…I…only seek shelter till they do…”

“Absolutely n-not.” you reply, splaying your palm out on his stomach to keep him still as you clean away the dirt and dried blood. The shallower wounds were slowly closing up again. “You’re in no state to argue right now.”

His mouth twitches and there is a momentary flash of teeth. You try not to let it frazzle you as much despite his initial protest, your movements slowing to a more delicate pace as you bathe the worst of his lesions till you were satisfied with the lack of dirt caking his body. “It seems choice no longer holds to be a luxury.” he utters under his breath.

“No.” you agree. “It does not.”

He falls silent, a petulant turn on his lips. “Are you a healer?” he asks. You bow down, unwinding the linen wraps you had stored away.

“My mother was.” you finally admit, your posture straightening. “I learned what I could from her to aid the people in my village. I never studied medicine formally, however…” you trail off. Talking seems to grow a little easier the more you speak. The hoarseness was slowly giving way and your stuttering grew less frequent.

“And I take it you shall try to help me as you do with any other human?” there was a sardonic sort of amusement in his tone that has you bristling. “Your medicines and methods will not work on an Adeptus. Put your tools away, you only waste your time.

“Adeptus…so you hail from the settlement south of Mt. Tianheng?”

“You’re ignoring my words,” he accuses. You bat your lashes at him innocently.

“Small talk.” you shrug. “You can tell me everything you want after I’m done tending to you.” you meet his gaze, tumultuous gold melded with an orange-red. He narrows his eyes, his unfocused vision scanning you, then the house, then at the bandages you held before he leans his head back with a defeated sigh.

By the time you conclude your task, he has fallen unconscious, his breathing deep and his heartbeat unnaturally slow for a human. You look down at your ruined clothing, at the stains at the hem of your tunic and at the sleeves and you hope you can salvage what you can from this, moving on to change out of them and fish out a cleaner pair of clothes.

The smell of petrichor still persists through the day, the sky brewing with the makings of a new storm. Perhaps you had lost track of time and the monsoons were sitting in sooner than expected and you move on to salvage whatever you’d left outside to dry and board your windows up for the incoming onslaught.

The man wakes when night falls, form set aglow against the dim lamp light.

“Let’s change your bandages.” you offer. He doesn’t protest this time, painfully sitting himself up with gritted teeth as you get back to work. His skin still radiates that uncomfortable temperature as you press up against it. You might need to get a wet rag ready lest he overheats

He speaks after the silence persists. “You shouldn’t see me like this.” it comes out as a whisper so soft, you almost miss it. His face however holds a distant look, with a hint of disappointment lurking within and you tug at the linen a little harder. You’ve heard that before, from the lips of men and women who had too much to hold and little weakness to show. You wonder what it would entail for a warrior, or a being whose years spanned farther than yours, to sink as low before a stranger.

It must be hard.

“We all get hurt sometimes.” you smile, hoping to lighten the air with a bit of humor ( it was getting too heavy, the air in the room ). “I’ve lost count of the number of times I've hit my head…and you think I'd be a little more cautious given my studies…”

A poor joke stays a poor joke no matter the delivery ( and yours was weak to begin with ). He does not say or do much, save for a slight twitch in his jaw and an unamused tilt in his head. You shrink back, skittishly throwing his used bandages aside in favor of new ones with a hasty “Nevermind.” on your tongue.

“Do you truely not know who I am?” he asks, his touch skimming the sheets absently. You shake your head, confusion and that damned curiosity slowly lurking and clawing its way to the light. You want to stamp the ugly feeling down and out of sight. You try to. It does not disappear. He continues, “What of the civilization south of Tianheng?”

A shrug was the most you could manage. You guess that was where he hails from. “I know it’s the domain of a geo god, and that beings touched by longevity, ally beside him. “My old home is far, however, and our god hid us away from the world…my knowledge on this is sparse.”

You’re almost ashamed to admit it, to acknowledge the bubble you had grown within, accepting the suffering of the men and women who ventured out and returned with broken bodies you and your mother had to fix. You weren’t sure what sort of terrible dichotomy it was, to live in ignorance amidst blatant horror and blood, and you don’t wish to return to it.

He seems to take this in, his eyes training up at the ceiling, then upon you with a lidded stare. “Who was your god?”

The icy set to your jaw was a hint he picks up on and he does not further the topic.

“...I am from there…from Liyue.” he says instead, in recollection of your previous question. The settlement was a distance from here, a few days worth of journeying by cart and hardly worth the risk of the travel with the demons that lurk and the gods that warred.

“What’s your name?” you ask.

His lips curl again, but it’s less of a grimace and more of a smile, his fangs tucked away to show a visage less feral, less dangerous. You find yourself relaxing a bit more unconsciously, seemingly charmed by this simple action ( and the thought almost scares you ). “What is your name, mortal?”

Ah, he wasn’t going to make this easy. You’re tempted to tug on his bandages a little harder if only to spite him.

You don’t reply till you are done with your chore and you lean back, massaging your stiff fingers. Your name slips out of your lips then, the action feeling natural in defiance of the years spent hardly having a friendly face within your home, save the occasional traveler. The adeptus seems satisfied. “You may call me Zhongli.” he replies, his voice softer, raspier.

“Zhongli.” you repeat. Zhongli .

There is a rustle of fabric and his fingertips brush against yours, the touch nearly having your arm lurch back in muted shock. He seems unphased but you — you watch a soft light shimmer through the dimness of your walls. When it fades, a single visage of gold stares back.

“It’s your reward. For aiding me.” there is a medley of pride and contentment and you liken it to that of a child offering a messily put together gift. Gold is coveted by most, but has little use here, and you have little use for it. But the gift is still cupped within your hands and you hold it as if it is something precious.

( Oh, your heart trembled just a bit and you feel a lump grow in your throat, bigger and bigger till you dip your head down out of his line of sight. )

His eyes bear down on you harder, set aglow and unyielding.

You smile to hide your trembling frame, thoughts revolting within your mind like the beat of war drums with a mix of unease and appreciation. Yet, who were you to question Zhongli’s secrets?

Maybe hypocrisy runs deeper in your blood than you initially assumed.

Mist dances at your fingertips.

It weaves and spreads and obscures the light and the woods around you and you run through blindly as the skin beneath your feet tears and the chill of the night clings to your skin and leaves behind dew and sweat.

You could see nothing; nothing save the pale glow of the moon above you as it tries to break through the barrier and light your way. It cannot, for Balam’s magic conjures obscurity, and obscurity was worshiped.

But you were human and you were curious and the voice that called your name was so familiar and warm and you wanted to weep and run towards it. The mist will not stop your folly and you will keep running to appease that growing thirst. In the end it will cost you.

The sound of your footsteps cease. The mist thins out and at the end of the veil, you poke your head out for the first time to witness the world outside. A set of teeth, white and sharp greet you. Then another and another, till the darkness itself glows as it does beneath the moonlight.

You hear her voice. It comes from the open maw.

The demons spot you and you run again, feeling their jaws clamp down and tear through muscle and bone and you scream and scream and scream at the white hot agony and the very feeling of your nerves set aflame before they numb.

Your curiosity cost you.

You wake to your fingers clawing at your shoulder with labored gasps and Zhongli panting, his fingers gripping at the sheets of the bedroll and his brow furrowed. You blink away the sleep in your eyes and tug the blanket off of your shoulders, shakily making your way to his side. His skin was hot again and panic lights in your chest, like the incoming winter.

“Fuck — it’s gotten worse.” you mumble a few more expletives as you stumble out to collect some more water and the few mistflower corollas you had stored away within your cabinets, hoping the elemental energy in them hadn’t dissipated completely. Setting the bucket down by his bedside with the corollas nestled within, you hiss at the cold pricking your palms and the frostbite coming to form.

Never mind that! The fucking adeptus is going to melt .

Oh my, thank you for pointing out the obvious!

The cloth bath was set to a near feverish pace as you feel him twitch and convulse through the chills wracking his body. “Hot — ” he groans.

“It’s the fever.” you mutter, tugging his pants down, your eyes unconsciously trailing down the slope of his waist and dip of pelvis, then avert your eyes before you could see any more, face flushed whilst a cloth was thrown onto his hips to spare him some decency. “You need to cool down…please, stay still.”

His hand comes to grip your arm and the dormant strength within it, one etched into his very being, was frightening. The adeptus’ sights were set upon you, the fever-addled state of his blowing his pupils out till only a thin ring of gold remains, shining through the light of the oil lamp, brighter and brighter. You pull away and rest your free hand on his with a soothing squeeze.

“You will be okay.” you assure. “It will come to pass soon enough. Let me take care of you for now.” You coax him to stay still as you continue the cloth bath, wiping away at his clammy skin while fatigue continues to weigh down on your shoulders and tug at your eyes. “I know you’re hiding something…and if you…if you’re one of the gods, then you must live. You’ll have people waiting for you…they need you, at a time like this.”

He lets out a weak exhale, shakily sitting himself up with sudden urgency. “ Liyue… ” he whispers, gait faltering and you steady him as he leans into you, resting his forehead against your shoulder. You struggle to push him back down atop the bedroll, his breaths growing pained with the passing seconds.

“Liyue.” you nod and repeat. “You need to go back soon, don’t you? You’ll have to heal first, and for that, you must rest.” The cloth is pressed against his temple now, wiping away sweat all while the smell of petrichor grows stronger. The searing temperature hasn’t subsided and hopelessness stirs inside, an ugly feeling, a familiar feeling ( it was worse than your curiosity — it always was ).

Zhongli leans into your touch, his fingers tangling against yours. “ Stay… ” he whispers. You cease your movement as his body shifts and presses against your lap. “Stay….” he repeats.

“I…I’ll stay.” you slump in defeat, resting his head on your lap. Lightning flashes outside your window and the walls seem to shake as the rain comes pelting down. You continue the bath, listening to a leaky spot in your roof and the incessant downpour rattling against the tiles. Zhongli seems to still, his breaths still weighed down by that terrible heaviness.

The rain continues. His fever grows worse.

Then the pattering slows down, and the flush on his skin comes to cool. By the time the rains stop, his fever breaks and you lean against the wall of your home, shutting your eyes as you nearly weep, your worries allayed.

Morax was the first to wake in the early hours of the morning, the scent of petrichor pervading his senses followed by the faint lull of jasmine. Then comes the warmth and the softness, one his claws unconsciously dig into with a groan shuddering out of his chest.

It was you , slumped against the wall, lost in your own dreams and too tired to notice and the sight makes him swell with a conflicting mess of emotion. Then comes the pain, the aftermath of his fever coming to tear at him, at his limbs and his tendons till he ceases his stubborn movement and lets his body fall slack.

He does not understand your intent, but the faint memory of that familiar care against a muddled haze stills his tongue and his suspicion. Your muffled words, your hand in his, everything, blurred away yet so clear.

Humans were strange, so fragile, so determined…

“Fool…” he murmurs. The last of his strength is used to draw the blanket over your shoulders. “But thank you, nonetheless.” Sleep calls him again, and Morax shuts his eyes.

The jasmine lingers, stronger than most. He lets it swallow him whole.

You come to realize how much you hated it, the loneliness.

Your home was far removed from civilization, settled between regions and away from main travel ways that weren’t blocked or destroyed. The quiet of your house was nothing like the bustle of the town you hailed from and the chaos that accompanies the stalls in the early mornings. The most noise that encloses your small plot of land were the local wildlife, the creaks and groans of wood born against strong winds and the weight of snow and the distant battles fought over the horizon.

During arbitrary moments of your routine, you question why Zhongli landed here of all places, in the midst of nowhere. You wonder if this is some grand scheme or punishment for your past mistakes and when you feel your curiosity dare to skitter forth and poke more holes into your blind acceptance, you drive it away with an angry hiss.

He is not an unwelcome guest, even if he holds a sense of urgency at times and a well kept secret whose nature you suspect . It’s almost comforting, no matter how contrived it seems, listening to him speak of an obscure plant or hearing his heavy footfalls a few days after his arrival.

How desperate are you? The bitter pride in your heart speaks up, and it’s seedy and unhappy as you straighten out the drying sheets over the heated slab. Where is your self preservation? Your brain cells? You’re smarter than this you fool —

“Is something wrong?”

Zhongli’s voice snaps you out of your reverie and you start, nearly dropping your laundry on the grass.

“Nothing!” and it is a weak save on your part as you straighten the worn down basket to move to an empty patch of stone, ducking under to check the state of the flaming flowers underneath. His hands come to rest on the surface and he lets out a soft exhale, his eyes slipping shut in a seeming moment of peace. “You should be resting.” you remind him.

“I believe I'm past the need for excessive bedrest.” he intones with an amused lilt. “Do you need help? It is partly my fault you have far more work to sort through.” He wasn’t lying. What little linen you had was used up to change the sheets on your bedroll before his fever broke. You had little clue how illness amongst higher beings were treated, but simply washing the contaminated cloth was the best option you had on your for now.

Ah, sometimes you regret not moving closer to a town.

Your reply was short, when you notice the silence being drawn out for a little too long. “That does not mean you should strain yourself. The less of a load you place on yourself, the faster you will heal. I’m sure you are needed back at your colony. The war is far from over.”

The comment seems to tug at his emotions, a stern moroseness settling on his face. “That is true…but I trust my fellow adepti to hold the lines in my absence.” you bend over to collect another sheet from the basket, the hair at the back of your neck prickling when he moves behind you. “Even so, I should hasten my return.”

“Then — ” The sheet is snatched from your hands and you watch Zhongli step beside an unused slab to lay it across the surface, a mischievous smile touching his lips. “Oi!” you snap, reaching out to grab it.

“However,” he continues, ignoring your protest with a look of innocent serenity. You want to squawk, to stamp your foot down childishly and you almost do, your movements stilled by you clenching your fist to curb it. “I’ve fought battles with wounds far worse and won. Menial chores are hardly a labor and if it means aiding you then I shall take it.”

You let out a groan in defeat and push the basket between the two of you. Zhongli was preening in his small victory, setting the clothes out to dry with relative ease. “Guests shouldn’t partake in chores like these.” you repeat the line your mother had uttered so many times, one amongst many of her favorite maxims.

He watches you from his spot behind the stone slab, a contemplative haze clouding his hues. “I simply return the favor. It is the nature of a contract, to balance out what is given with due compensation.”

He isn’t going to let up, is he?

“Fine, fine…you can help me collect a few mist flowers later.” you concede.

“What do you need them for?” he asks, collecting your laundry basket as you kneel upon the grass, blowing some air into a patch. One of the flowers is set alight and you sigh, letting them burn awhile as you feel your fingers retain a little more warmth in them.

“Preservation…I use them to make my herbs and food last a little longer…it’s not easy, coming across certain ingredients for a decent meal…” You let out a dry chuckle at that, which melts away into a mildly sheepish one. Even if you bear a slight annoyance to your choice of settlement, and even with the debilitating isolation that came with it — it was still home and it was still safer than most.

Zhongli takes this in, a hand resting against his chin. “I see…cooking is not a part of my skill set…unfortunately. But a friend of mine intends on relaying an old recipe of his should the war end soon. Perhaps I could pass it on to you, if you don’t mind it.”

It was an oddly sweet gesture coming from him and you hum, a genuine smile spreading across your face as you consider it. That also meant opening a tiny window of opportunity; a chance that you may see Zhongli again. The thought stirs a clash of emotion, of fear and of excitement and dare you say it, hope and it feels warm and cold and all sorts of things at once. “I’d like that…granted you don’t accidentally poison me.”

He feigns annoyance as his head tilts to the side, quietly regarding you. “You overestimate my inadequacy. The last time I did partake in the culinary arts, the worst outcome was an offhand crystallize reaction and a burnt stove.” he pauses. “Besides, my skill in brewing tea is decent.”

Oh Gods —

“I’m just being cautious.” you laugh a little louder at that, holding up your hands in defense. “Dear Lords though…I hope that friend of yours is prepared then. You might turn out to be a genius in cuisine or a hopeless case.”

“Then I hope for the former.”

You grin, hanging up the last of your clothes. “If you turn out decent…then I wouldn’t mind sharing some of the recipes passed down to me. I couldn’t indulge myself in them as much, but i hope you may come to like them.”

Something in Zhongli’s eyes softens and he nods. “And I would like that in turn…” he utters slowly, watching you clear away any dry branches and grass close by. His fingers absently brush over his torso, where the bandages stay wrapped around him. You catch the subtle purse of his lips and the twinge in his jaw. “Do not be concerned…” he snaps up to meet your worried face. “I am fine.”

“...Right.” you knew it wasn’t wholly a lie. Zhongli proved to be a quick healer, perhaps a trait passed down by his inhuman lineage. But these displays of vulnerability only played into the damning knowledge you knew before; of the hidden fragility the gods held. “Come on…I think it’s time we get those bandages changed.”

Zhongli smiles but it doesn’t quite meet his eyes. Another secret , you think sadly, taking his hand as you lead him inside, taking in the momentary warmth he held even if his skin didn’t quite feel like skin or that they glowed a bit too bright between the cracks of your fingers.

You don’t ask him to collect the mist flower corollas again, staying at home with him with some tea set at the table for him to sip on while you inspect his lacerations. There was some idle chatter over dinner and Zhongli spoke a little more about his home.

“You’re going to leave tonight, aren’t you?” you ask suddenly, your voice soft. His words die out and you try to still the sharp edged pain in your chest. It refuses to fade and you accept the growing weight with an unwilling gait.

“Yes.” he whispers, setting his cup down and he looks ashamed.

“Then go.” you mumble. He opens his mouth again but you hold up a hand. “I…I know your name is not really Zhongli…it’s not is it?” His silence was damning and you finally piece it together, the knowledge you learned from your village and from your travels, no matter how meager, painting a slow picture in broad strokes.

The stories depict Morax to be more of a beast and less of a man. You would have glossed over it as well,expecting a dragon instead of the visage of a handsome stranger.

“I take it you’ve come to a conclusion.” he muses, looking a little apologetic, a little ashamed. “I never intended on deceit but the nature of our meeting called for it.”

“You were afraid I was going to kill you?” you guess. Zhongli — Morax laughs and shakes his head.

“Even in my weakened state, you would have been incapable of it.” well damn . “I feared someone of greater power would catch wind of talk of a wounded god…but given your lifestyle, they held no merit. I apologize though…I know you may have suspected a while.”

Morax smiles and you try not to battle the disbelief that a good sat across you, eating your food and drinking your tea. “However, I have a question to ask you.”

A pause

“What became of your deity?”

Your breath seizes and you meet his gaze. His stare seems to hold so much more weight to it and you look down. Your old god was a memory you sought to bury away well out of sight. Recollecting them only brought in a bitter taste and a dull ache and Morax notices it. “That’s a story for another day.” you finally manage out after some deliberation. Your tea has gone cold by the time you take another sip out of it, the air feeling heavier again. You wrinkle your nose at the taste.

He nods. “Then I will return and pay my debt in whole as well.” he decides. “Your kindness is one I shall remember, little one.” You hate how a part of you melts into this buttery, weak mess and when he smiles, you hate how it’s so easy to feel yourself tear at the seams, to beg him to stay a little longer. “Thank you.”

He was gone the next morning, a fresh batch of mist flower corollas left behind in an earthen pot alongside a delicate flower preserved in amber.

“Good riddance.” you tell yourself, the words feeling forced.

You will miss him, you think.

He returns three months later, or maybe it was more. Time was easy to lose track of and the seasons were all you had to know of a passing year. By the time he arrived, the last remnants of winter had receded and you found yourself in the midst of spring, restocking your stores and setting soup to boil in the hearth.

Should I bow? You think when he appears at your doorstep. Extend a greeting? Address him by his title? Your great eminence…no that sounds pretentious… You reminisce about your old customs, of the times you spent watching your mother lay out scented flowers and fruits at the feet of your deity during festivals or during victory feasts. Morax however, steps inside with a smile in greeting, his hand coming to tuck some stray hair out of your face.

Then comes the deja vu.

You question why his arrivals were always timed on days when your home was a mess.

“Wait! We can talk outside.” saving the last few traces of your dignity is all you had in mind as you blockade the entrance. It would hardly do any good, you realize then; he was tall and he was far bigger and when he stops with a puzzled look and scans the room and the traces of stalks and unswept and unused parts of the herbs you were sifting through, a glint of understanding flashes in his eyes and he steps back.

You want to sink into the ground with the traces and remainders of you. Oblivion seemed a tempting option with the way your face burned and your heart hammers at a pace nearly hard to keep up with.

“My apologies.” he utters, letting you lead him outside. He does not seem as bothered or flustered, thankfully; nor does he pry as he erects a few makeshift seats sculpted from geo and sits himself down alongside you with a soft sigh on his lips. “I wish we could have met sooner,” he admits.

“Is that so? It’s hard to believe you’d bother…” you hum with a shy dip of your head. Morax considers this.

“Did you not ask for it?”

“I did…but I accepted the possibility of you not returning.” you cease for a second, recalling your promise to give him the answer he sought. It felt like a cheap trick, back then and it still does now, of you running away as you always did. “I'm glad you came back though…it was nice having someone around to speak to.”

Moax looks pleased with this. “I simply find your company enjoyable.” you feel a stirring in your stomach when he says that, and it feels like a wonderful sort of sweetness, like honey. “Even if our first few days spent together lacked any delicacy in approach.”

“You were quite stubborn.” you admit.

“I was, wasn’t I?” he agrees. You snicker.

“I wouldn’t blame you though. Even I had a hard time staying still when bedrest was forced upon me…how have you been?” your fingers slot together as you pull your knees closer to your chest, your cheek resting against your thigh as you watch the scenery in the distance. The mist had abated, just a bit and you could see the copse of trees expanding then scattering as the plains began.

Morax exhales. “As I’ve always been.”

“Stubborn?”

“ Busy .” he corrects, flashing you a look of warning. You grin innocently. “The war has come to a temporary standstill. Only smaller battles seem to keep up…with the weaker gods mostly weeded out, planning our next move is of importance. I only have a few hours to spare now before I leave for Liyue.”

“Oh…” you take this in. Perhaps this was a sign of the war slowly coming to a close. Maybe during your time, if you were lucky enough, or in another hundred years or so. “Then…tell me about Liyue.”

Morax raises a brow but he smiles, humoring your question. “What would you like to know?”

“Plant life? What’s it like there?” you supply, leaning forward in quiet anticipation.

He chuckles. “Not of the people? Or its history?” he asks.

“You can tell me that too!”

He hums, his gaze softening. “It’s not uncommon to see mountains in Liyue,” he admits. “To say our weather has a stark contrast in the plains and the peaks would be an understatement. Juehyun Karst, the realm of the adepti is pleasantly cool most of the time, but the plains are hot and humid. That being said, our flora seems to take on this diversity as well…”

He tells you about the yellow sand bearer and the gold ginkgo trees that spot Liyue’s landscape, of the horsetail that covets the marshes and the reclusive glaze lilies that grow within the terraces. He tells you about the silk flowers nestled amidst the red bushes, always found in pairs and the violet grass sprouting forth off of cliffs. And he tells you of the qingxins that turned away from the warmth of the plains and grew in the distant peaks, looking down upon Liyue as a whole.

There was a sort of magic, listening to Morax speak of his nation with a layer of fondness and sadness.

“Maybe when the war ends, I’ll visit. I think I'd like to start a garden some time.” you hum, surveying the empty patches of land in front of you. It would be nice to have a few more flowers around to brighten up the monotony you have grown accustomed to. His expression shifts, a brighter shine lighting up his eyes.

“You could stay there if you wish.” Disbelief rattles through your ribs and it steals your breath and pushes against your lungs. You fall silent, ceasing the anxious play with your clothes. “I could find a place for you amidst my people…would you like that?”

There was disbelief, yes, and a stutter in your words, but there is also the pang of appreciation and the tingle at your fingertips. However cold dread settles down ( for it is an old bedmate ) and Morax seems to catch on. “Have I misspoken in any way?” he questions, his hooded gaze appraising.

You jerk your head. He had it all wrong and the last thing you need is a messy misunderstanding to fall into your pile of terrible mistakes. “No, no…I don’t think I'm ready to return to a land ruled by a god…or even around so many people…not yet…” you couldn’t bring yourself to word it out and it shames you. You are an adult. You needed to speak like one.

There is a faint brush on your cheek, the barest hint of a touch and when you look up, you see the suspicion he holds paired with concern. You want to shrink back, make yourself smaller, unknowable, something you were before he came along and made you care and vie after company and something as simple as touch.

“I assume it has something to do with your old settlement?” he asks.

You nod.

“We were hidden behind our god’s mist and illusions…our people were cut off from the rest of the world save a few soldiers and those who joined our god in battle. My mother would accompany them sometimes…she’d tell me about the world outside and we promised to visit a lake just a short walk from the barrier…” you hold out your hands, trying to grasp the words she had tattered. “She called it starlight on earth…or…something like a mirror clearer than any metal she’d seen. I wanted to go, but we were not allowed to leave.”

“You were not?” Morax asks. He leans in, listening closer.

“We were not.” you affirm softly. “Or god never spoke it…but we knew. They talked about demons lurking out and we were scared. One day…I couldn’t find her amidst the returning line of soldiers she left with…I did later…and I couldn’t even stand to look at the state she was in.” you stare ahead, the weight of his gaze resting even harder now. “I don’t know why…if it was grief or curiosity or a mix of both…but I thought I heard her voice one day…calling out to me. And I knew it was a trap, but I ran towards it, out of the forest, and the mist…”

You swallow hard. You felt cold. Cold all over, like that night, where the silence was unsettling and the sound of your name was a taunting whisper. Your mother, it was your mother, rigid at some times with her own rough edges and flaws, but loving for the most part. Your mother — and it was an old hurt you had locked in a box a long time ago, that time had weathered down till it was the embers scraped to the side of the charcoal pit.

“They were right…my deity warded off those things that attacked me…but they were bleeding everywhere . Balam was strong , but as a god…I doubt they held much in par to some of the others who warred out there…” Like you , you almost add. “They were weakened…unfit to fight in a state like that and we tried what we could. The wounds didn’t heal as we thought they should. I was banished for endangering their life and as I traveled…I heard of Balam’s passing in the hands of an invading god.”

“...and now, I'm here.” you finish, wryness coating every syllable. You wished your apathy was more than a weak front to bury away the stab in your heart; you wish you could be stronger than the coward you are. Morax shuts his eyes, his arms crossing over his chest.

He looks a little more like the god you were told about; sharp, pragmatic, with a presence that looms over most. “If there was a law that stated so, that forbade stepping out of your deity’s territory, then yes, you have committed a wrong. I have heard tell of Balam, whispers of their whereabouts and they did try to protect your people from a harsher way of life…”

Ah, so that was his response. You wilt a little, feeling a mix of fury and defeat, at Morax, at the gods, at this war and at your own childish stupidity and audacity to even dare to feel this way. “I see…” you mumble. Morax holds up a hand, cutting you off. The words die in your throat faster than embers in snow.

“But,” he behind and his expression pulls into something gentler, lacking the initial rigid sternness it held. “Demons are still a force to be reckoned with. Even my adepti struggle with stifling down their noxious presence, whether it be the weight of karma or a disparity in power itself.”

Coherency is now a lost subject.

“I doubt you could have resisted its influence and Balam knew of the battle they would throw themselves into. Your god was willing to make that sacrifice, something of a rare sight amongst a few of the divine. Remember this well.”

A lump grows in your throat. It’s not an unwelcome one, quietly easing the nerves that crackled and frazzled beyond possible repair. You look down at your hands and your eyes slip shut as you take his words in, bit by bit. Balam was a god who, while distant within the front lines of battle, still loved their people.

It’s ironic how the gods can be capable of human sentiment and human error.

“Thank you, Morax.” you mutter. “I needed that.”

“The bitter truth, or the comfort?” he jests softly. “Because while I deal well with the former, my skill with the latter falls abysmally short.”

You laugh softly.

“For both .”

( His eyes light with surprise. Then you spot it, the faint flush on his cheeks and a dangerous thought enters your mind. You shake your head. It was best you didn’t raise your paltry hopes . )

He does not visit for a few weeks, but you spot a few saplings left behind at your doorstep, of plants and flowers you had never seen before.

You pick one up and a single word echoes in your mind — qingxins .

A smile tugs at your lips.

The distant noise of battle has grown reticent.

You tell it to Morax on one of his visits and he dares to flash a knowing smile in response. “The war is coming to its close. Only a few handfuls remain.” he states, tracing your bandaged hands; a new set of souvenirs from a stray whopperflower. You shiver involuntarily, leaning into him a bit more while longing tears your insides raw. “Hopefully you will come to enjoy an era of peace soon.”

“Will it end soon? The war?” you ask, wincing a little when he presses his fingertips down on the afflicted skin, bathing it in honeyed gold. “Ah! Gently!” you hiss, pulling back on reflex. Morax holds you fast, drawing you back to him with a playful tut and a sheepish glance your way.

“Apologies. Is this alright?” The pressure on your wrist still brings forth a sting, but it’s far more bearable. You nod. “Alright. Now hold still …” The glow returns, as does the tingling warmth and the tense nervousness gives way to a content sigh as the pain ebbs to obscurity. You watch your bandages fall away to skin mostly unblemished, save the faint traces of a scar left behind. “Better?” he asks.

You nod. “Much better…I wonder why you didn’t try healing yourself earlier. You’re not too bad at it.” he wasn't. Only a few humans were ever imbibed with the grace of divine power. You always longed to be gifted with the strength to heal, and you feet the slightest hint of envy as you take in the sight.

Morax blinks. “I was in too weak a state to do so. Healing is not my greatest strength either…I simply learned it, should it come to use amidst battle.” he flexes his fingers, the last flickers of gold falling away. His gaze meets yours with its usual intensity before he reaches for your other hand.

“Hm…I suppose this means you’ve paid your part of the debt?” you tease. “You’ve healed me as I've healed you, right?”

“True…” his lips quirk up as he mends the last of the burns, then presses a delicate kiss on your knuckles. “Does this mark the end of our contract?” The gesture only serves to fluster you further, bringing forth the feeling of fluttering warmth and the near lightness in your chest. Morax chuckles, his voice dipped to a teasing whisper as he calls out your name in a low, purring timbre.

“H-hold up!” you choke out, terrified of potentially overheating as you push his face away, stifling away the shy laughter that threatens to burst out. Morax shifts closer, closer still, his close presence having grown familiar through the meetings and the shared conversations and meals ( you missed the gentleness in his touch, you missed so much of him ).

“Hm? Stop what?” he teases, a cheeky glint lighting up in his gaze. “My, your face feels warm.” he adds with a soft simper, tilting your chin his way as he scans your features.

A desperate attempt to shift his attention comes to form. “Look at the qingxins you gifted me! They’re growing nicely, right?” you try to smile, looking at the flowers growing just a small ways from your home. Morax hums.

“They are. Give them a few months and they will come to bloom.” he replies, his wandering touch tracing up your arm, grazing at fragile skin and faint scars and the sensation has you shuddering. The glow in his eyes brightens and he huffs out something unintelligible, then asks you, “Would you like me to stop?”

You fall silent. “No it’s fine…” you sigh, reaching up to grasp his hand gently, ignoring the phantom stings as your finger splays out over Morax’s palm, at the dazzling gold dipped at the edges fading away to a spider web of veins and dark scales. “I like this.” you hum. Morax blinks, his cheeks coloring pink.

The intensity burns brighter in his gaze. It scorches at his touch and in the way he looks upon you now and as acute as it was, you felt blanketed beneath a safe warmth.

Morax speaks up, “I will make sure this war ends soon.” It was a promise, holding the weight of his blood. You feel it in every syllable, every rise and drop in his cadence. He leans in and the spice in his scent pervades your senses.

His lips are softer than you expected, mildly chapped from the heat and the battlefield, and between the buzz slowly beginning to sound off in your head and the feel of his touch brush away at your hair and rest on your cheek, your heart hammers hard in your ribcage. You feel the earth shift and watch the sky sweep away as you fall back on the grass and Morax palms at your hips and kisses you some more.

It feels like a distant dream, something you’d rather not wake from and when he pulls away to look you in the eye, you watch the smirk in his face grow as he dips down and buries his face into your neck, his pace languid, his claws gentle against the softness of your skin. You bite back a stray mewl when his teeth prickle down on sensitive flesh, slowly and deliberately making his way down down down, and his hand pressing flat on your thigh.

A glow flickers within his chest. He stops and tugs away with clear frustration, heaving as he watches you try to recover from the fog clogging up your thoughts, the memory of his touch warming every inch of you. Morax chews at his bottom lip. “I am needed again.”

“...oh…” you croak out, even if you wish to scream at the unfairness, to pull him back down atop of you and finish what he started. You shut your eyes, easing at your frayed nerves at the trembling and the traitorous dampness that was gradually settling in. The god in front of you holds a shadow of amusement and he kisses you again, gentler, with less teeth and tongue and more tenderness.

“I’ll come back,” he whispers. It holds another promise masked beneath the assurance, it’s cheekiness lighting his gaze.

When Morax’s form departs, you let out a shaky sigh, one hand delving into your heat while the other clamps over your mouth. The moment your slick coats your fingers, you moan into the silence, the promise persisting.

Morax thinks about you when the rains fall once more.

He thinks about you on the battlefield, waiting with that patient smile.

He thinks about you when his adepti fall and the last god is slain — when he finds his numbers dwindle, their blood staining his victory. He holds that memory of you close, that cherished warmth. His little flower.

Morax thinks about you. And he longs .

You came to know of patience’s workings through the days and months in between Morax’s visits, and this one is his longest thus far. The war persists still, the sound of the heavens screaming slowly growing quieter as deities were felled and the lands were stitched together by victories and defeats. You wonder where your old home lies now beneath the seven seats, what it would grow into in the near future.

Then one day, you wake to complete and utter silence.

The war is over. The roads had cleared. One day, when the world stills just a little more and the last few scars left behind have healed, you could try to visit the towns and cities beyond your isolated home.

Morax stays absent. You go on with your life. The qingxins he gifted you bloom in your garden. You wait, shedding away the accusatory remarks, the words that dare you to doubt his victory, that take your mind to darker spaces with the image of his still form and cold hands. No, absolutely not, you could not doubt him .

You repeat it over and over, beating down at the cynical whispering. Do not doubt him .

A storm rises again, blustering through the lands with the threat of tearing your home down from its stubborn foundations. You stay inside, the change in weather setting forth a persistent chill that your meager hearth could hardly hold against. Finally, after a few hours of running about, your body hunches over the blocks, feeding the fire with the last of your firewood.

“How much longer…” you mutter, storing away the last of your herbs when the rain refuses to cease and it grows harder to differentiate between night and day. The lightning thunders in response, asserting it’s long stay and you curl up by the warmth you fed, numb fingers gripping at old blankets and watching the rain beat down incessantly on your roof. It would be a long wait, you realize. It’s best if you find a way to pass the time.

There was another clap of thunder, then a crash that felt all too intimate with your memories. Then came the knocking and you scuttle up to let a drenched Morax in, his pupils blown wide and his body hot to the touch as he stumbles in. You’re almost afraid he’s fallen ill once more, but the insistent tug at your wrists has you follow him.

“Are you okay?” you ask, seating him down by the fire, moving to dry his hair after draping a sheet on his shoulder. “Morax, what’s wrong.” Despite the sudden appearance, you feel relief crash down and tug out a lump in your throat. You hold back the tears for his sake. You did not want to startle him in this state.

“A visit.” he shrugs.

“In this weather?” you question every ounce of wisdom he holds. He looks unbothered, pulling you closer to him while you squeeze the water out of his tresses, his chin coming to rest on your shoulder. Warm breath pools out and hits your neck and a shiver racks at your body. “Morax — ”

“I missed you…” The hoarseness of his voice steals the words in your mouth. You latch onto him tightly, fisting at his robes, uncaring of the silk wrinkling beneath your rough hands. Morax does not stay silent or stay still, his hands sliding down your sides, pulling you closer up against him. “I missed you…” he repeats feverishly. The hunger in his stare is an answer enough.

The fire crackles and lets out a sputter.

Morax lays you on your back with a gentle thump and hooks a hand beneath your knee, pushing it up against your chest as he steals a kiss from you, heated and impatient after weeks of mulling over his affection and lust. “Stay still.” he orders as you squirm a little, wanting more, needing more, trying to bury yourself into him as much as humanly possible.

Your open mouthed breaths did not help in the slightest as he steals another kiss, then another, the wetness of his tongue delving deep down your throat as he muffles out any sounds of shock from you —

— was it forked ?

You could not ponder over it for long, choking against the invading muscle while his lips caress yours with growing need and intensity. It made sense, for one like Morax — who adored talking about the origins of an obscure tea leaf to the festivities that littered the streets of his city — to fancy the act of kissing you. And he still keeps kissing you, over and over till your head spins and his body is pressed up flush against yours.

He noses at your neck with a noticeable huff, fingers dragging up the side of your hips, slowly, deliberately, till they tug at the hem of your clothes. Molten gold catches the anxious excitement bubbling within you and your eyes and you catch the smirk on Morax’s face.

“I’d like to continue.” he sounds breathless.

“ Go on then .” that threadbare line that held you together had snapped now. You do not think you could wait any longer than you have for him. Morax chuckles, bending down with a narrowed gaze till his nose brushes against yours.

“I haven’t finished my statement.” he chides and you don’t know what is worse, him dragging this out to a near painful pace, or the hand that caresses the inside of your thigh teasingly, drawing out a stray moan from your lips. “If you feel overwhelmed, or you wish to stop, we must establish a safe word.”

He waits expectantly and you scour your mind for the first word that pops into your head. “Squid.” you decide, shifting your hips closer to him. Morax lets out something between a wince and an amused chuckle, his hand leaving your thigh. You wine in protest, grabbing at his wrists to pull him closer.

“So needy.” he lilts. “Are you sure you want this?”

How cruel , you think unhappily, unsure of how to take his consideration; a loosely veiled attempt to drive you further into wanting or a call of sincere concern. You think you know Morax. You think it’s both.

“ Yes !” you cannot wait any more and neither could Morax, his claws curling round to clutch and tangle at the back of your head while he captures you in a devouring kiss. Your own experience hardly held a candle to his own practiced ease, but you do what you can, groaning into the clacking of teeth and the teasing little nips he leaves on your lower lip.

His thumb traces down the side of your neck and hooks at your clothes, tugging away at the fabric to stroke your now bare shoulder. Morax leaves no trace of skin untouched by his lips and he brushes down the line of your collar bone, his teeth flashing in the candle light till you feel him bite down at the spot with a muffled growl.

The rush of pain and pleasure has you pressing your face down into the mattress with reeling shock, any moan held back in the midst of the hazy shock lighting up inside you. The action was mostly unintentional, but you were glad it could have saved you any further embarrassment in Morax’s eyes.

“Not a sound?” he asks, licking his lips with a predatory tilt to his head, regarding every inch of you with voracity. You stubbornly refuse to respond, lips sealed tight with a set of eyelashes batting up at him. Morax likes a chase and you give it to him, no matter how small it may be. “No matter. We’ll see how silent you are by the end of the night.”

The words hang in the air like an impending omen. You do not doubt him.

His voice dips to a sultry whisper as he undoes your top and lets it slide past your shoulders and down your waist till it was bunched to the side and lay there forgotten. The storm rumbles outside your window, and the wind prickles at your skin. Between Morax eyeing you down, mapping out every detail with his fingertips and the chill in the air, your arms instinctively move to hug yourself.

“No.” His word was stern, absolute as he tugs at whatever covers your entirety from his gaze. “I’ve never seen you this shy before… adorable .” he purrs, stroking your cheek.

“ Tease .” you test out.

Morax’s expression lapses to a playful smile in the midst of your indignation, leaning back to watch you with clear intent. He guides your legs around his waist and shifts you partly atop his lap, gently moving your hips to a slow grind against his torso. The sudden stimulation draws out a squeak, your cheeks set aflush.

“ Beautiful… ” his claws linger over your chest before it trails down to stroke your stomach. “You’re so soft , little love…” they stop at your shoulder, raking around the scar settled there, gnarled marks and torn flesh left behind by talons and teeth. You feel the flare of doubt and self consciousness flare back up, but it fizzles out when he bends to leave a kiss atop it.

It was hard to find a spot that he did not touch. Morax was precise, diligent, learning what spots made your squirm and whimper and shake beneath him with white hot pleasure. The rain’s roar was a distant muffle between the pleasant buzz in your head and Morax’s ragged breaths sounding in the otherwise quiet room. He hunches over you, nosing at your neck with near obsessive need, nipping, kissing — anything to cast on some semblance of his scent and essence.

Your chin nestles atop his shoulder, your sight trained upwards, oblivious to where Morax may choose to touch you next. The clinking of metal does draw in a few questions, most quickly answered when you feel his clothes give way and settle on your stomach. Then comes his teeth, sharp fangs sinking into you. You hardly register the moan you let out, or the heat that you sink into, desperate for more, for more skinship, for more of Morax.

“ Beautiful .” he repeats, a growl bleeding into every syllable, down to the rumble in his chest. He still donned his pants, but most of his clothes now lay scattered across the mattress, pushed aside a moment later with an impatient huff.

You have seen Morax bare chested plenty of times before, when he first arrived wounded on the slope of your little mountain home. There was no denying he was a beautiful man, sharply lined with the faintest of silvered scars scattered beneath stark gold tattoos. “ Morax .” you mutter, lacing your fingers into his, tugging at him instantly. “Keep going.”

He smiles.

“Patience.” he croons. You squeeze your eyes shut and hold back the swear resting on your tongue. “I have waited for so long…” his teeth don’t hold the old hesitance it did, now wholly marking you with delicious bruises and love bites. “...and I intend on savoring… ” his lips linger on the line of your jaw, tickling your ear. “... each… ” they brush down, down, down. “... bite… ” and true to his words, he sinks his teeth down again.

Your hands tangle at his hair, his hair tie snapping to your insistent tugging till burnt brown strands pool around him. He looked a little wilder, with how his eyes glow beneath the shadow cast on his face. You comb through them with a soft “So pretty.” earning a flattered hum whilst he cups your breasts, chanting your name lovingly.

You gasp at the feel of a soft pinch on your nipples. Morax lights up, a dangerous splay of his fangs flashing in your field of vision before he engulfs one breast within his mouth, suckling, biting, devouring greedily and the other grows sensitive to his slow strokes. “M-Mor–AX!” Your mewls peak and your hands grab at his shoulders, his back, at the sheets — somewhere , trying to ground you to the sensation.

( He could hear your racing heart beneath his grasp and the sound of it makes Morax purr with an emotion so old and primal and possessive. )

He pulls away with a wet pop. “How do you feel?” he asks.

“H-hot.” you barely manage to blurt out. “Hot everywhere.”

That smile was back again, the one with the barest flash of primality. “Hot?” he repeats. You nod. It was hot, in your cheeks, your chest and your stomach and core — and you could hardly bring yourself to wait. With Morax’s resolve to take his slower pace. You curse his patience. You wish he was just as desperate.

“I am.” he muses nonchalantly, ducking down to take your other breast in his mouth. “I crave every inch of you. I want to hear you sing, wǒ qīn'ài de .” his hand drags down, teasing the inside of your thighs with circular strokes. You buck your hips into him with a pathetic whimper, and Morax pounces at the lapse, tugging your underwear down with a single fluid motion then pushing his fingers into your drenched heat.

“Oh how obscene.” he lilts, a delighted shine in his eyes, momentarily bringing his slickened digits for you to see. “You’re drenched.”

“ Shut .” you snap, a depraved cry cutting you off as he teases at your entrance with one finger, thumbing up your core till he settles on your clit with a peased grunt. Your hips snap and shudder, tears slowly pricking at your eyes. It was an odd sensation, a buildup of pressure far greater than what you could coax out that tightens in your gut.

Morax slides a finger in, slowly, gently. “ Ah — ” you bury your face into your mattress, spreading your legs further for him. He continues his slow thrusts, in and out and you revel in the sweet sensation. “Feels — f-feels good — ”

His scrutiny comes with its merits, stroking your walls with an out of place gentleness as he watches every shift, keen and whine with a deep found appreciation and yearning. “You’re quite tight , little one.” he rumbles. You warble in response, bucking your hips into him as the pressure steadily builds and builds and builds.

“I’ll be adding another.” he decides and he does, a second finger slipping in. the stretch stung and you fist at the sheets with a groan.

“N-no…t-too much — ah!” The broken whimper does elicit a sympathetic look from him and he kisses away the tears, thankfully easing his movements.

“I know, little love. I know.” you sink into his warmth, melting at the delicacy in how he holds you close. “But we’ll need to prepare you, don’t we? And you’re taking me so well too…” you think you are when the pain slowly subsides and the pleasure returns, your very being trembling when he scissors you. “Ah, witnessing the state you're in…it makes me wonder how well you’ll take something else of mine, hm?”

“M-morax!” you squeak, cheeks flushed. The embarrassing squelch from your core shuts you up immediately. You decide you’re better off muffling out your moans out of petty spite at this point and you seek your refuge in the covers, burying your face into your mattress.

Ha! You think, naively, foolishly, daring to assume that Morax would fold at the face of a challenge. A third finger slips through and the moan is smothered. You think you hear him chuckle and you think you see the excited flash in his eyes as he shifts and twists your body, laying you down on your stomach.

“So stubborn.” The delight is apparent in his cadence. His hand presses down at the small of your back, then his torso presses up against you, continuing his slow and agonizing thrusts with practiced pace. “The vitriol in your silence hardly diminishes how soaked you are. Your body is far more honest, it seems.”

“ MMPH !”

You gasp, feeling his fingertips stroke your g-spot, pulling you apart at the seams and chipping away at your mind. Everything feels distant and muddled and the pleasure was almost too much to bear. “Does it feel good when I touch you here?” you shut your eyes and curl up, bucking up into him uselessly. His weight restricted your movements and you doubt you could wiggle away for a temporary respite ( even if some masochistic part of you liked the deluge of sensations pile up steadily ). “I need words.”

Another thrust. You wail into your hands, whatever dogged decision to stay silent, now shattered. “Yes. Yes — P- please!” you haven’t the foggiest clue what you’re begging for at this point, but the fullness you feel from his fingers alone is enough. “L-like that. Morax please keep going.”

He adds a fourth finger.

“You keep tightening up…” he whispers, as if trapped in a trance of his own, your head lifting to press against his bicep while his movements momentarily slow to ease you in before his pace picks up and that slow, brutal torture begins again.

You squirm, squeal, bite into his arm with vigor. Morax laughs, kissing your temple with comforting croons. “Good.” he coos, dipping his nose into your hair with a victorious purr. Your thighs squeeze around him and your hips jolt forth. The pressure steadily building up in your stomach seems to crest while you chime out his name. Your orgasm seeps closer and closer and closer —

He pulls his fingers out and you bite back a cry, a protest, tears pooling out as dismay settles fast. Was it something you said? Was it something you’ve done? Why did he stop?

“Why…” you manage out, stroking his hair. Morax raises a brow then slides down, his lips latching onto your inner thigh with a groan. You fist at the sheets again, a vague idea coming to form between the haze and the jumbled confusion and disappointment and it sets a spark of excitement.

A pause.

Morax meets your gaze.

He smirks.

You stifle back a scream when he bows his head down and laves at your heat, catching the receding traces of your buildup and letting it reel in steadily. His tongue was greedy, warm, devouring you whole as he slicks it through your drenched folds, and — oh gods —

Whatever praise that you cry out turns into a feverish mantra being babbled out over and over, the sharp mountainous air taking on a headier scent. Your validation was enough to spur him on, it seems, every bit of Morax, from the practiced gentleness to his eagerness to undo you coming to shine with the fervor of a starved animal.

“ Good .” he growls out, claws digging down a little harder into the softness of your thigh, his teeth and tongue grazing and toying at your clit. You clap your hands over your mouth once more, a squeak cut short, only to have them pinned down by him. He flashes you a warning glare before gold light illuminates your wrists and you feel the weight of geo press them down to your chest.

The cuffs were heavy, and they did their job well as you could only grab at air while his licks grow more languid. Your thighs were pushed back with a single fluid movement and a flustered cry escaped with your sudden exposure.

“Ah — ”

You tug at his hair, drawing out another delicious moan from his throat. Liquid gold appraises you, taking every detail in, between your fucked out expression and your twitching body. Morax presses against your sweet spots, and you could have sworn some strange magic were at play, with every careful thrust and every slow vibration. You could hard;y word out the state you were in, your mind all cotton wool with little thought.

Overwhelming…indescribable…that was a way to put it.

Morax does not complain about your growing insistence, your moans growing louder, your thighs squeezing round his shoulders, your attempts to free yourself from the stone shackles he placed on you.he must be just as far gone with your arousal in his mouth ( and that was true ). You hope he won’t turn to cruelty like the last time and deny you of your orgasm. It was a delirious pitch in the back of your mind, a soft cry.

“I-I think i’m close — ” you gasp, feeling that knot grow tight as the tell tale spill of an incoming release shudders up your spine and fingertips. Morax looks at you, the gold of his eyes wide and his pupils blown out with suppressed mischief. A well-timed thrust from his fingers served your undoing.

“Go on then.” he relents.

You sob into the sheets gratefully, pleasure rippling through as the coil snaps and you crumple and sink into a state of unawareness. You could only just register Morax sitting up, thumb swiping at his lips, licking away at the mess you made, smeared between his thighs and on him. “S-sorry!”

He shuts his eyes, quiet bliss washing over him. “I could devour you here and now…” he mutters in indulgence. He rubs your sore wrists down, pressing kisses against the expanse of skin with an apologetic smile. “You look tired. Shall we stop here?”

Alarm lines your features. “What about you?” you blurt out, bug eyed and still fatigued from your orgasm. Morax doesn’t respond, laying down next to you. You feel a bitterness line your mouth and you find yourself pushing your body up and crawling atop him. Morax opens one eye, amusement quirking at his lips.

“Oh?” he doesnt bother feigning surprise as his clawed grip settles on your hips. You try to hide yourself, embarrassment from your bold move hardly aiding in your focus as you slide his pants down and stare, he bore two of them, standing erect against your stomach. You helplessly glance at him.

“You’re…you’re big..” you tell him dumbly. “I-I don’t…I don’t think I can take both of them…” Morax chuckles.

“We’ll take it slow then. You only need one.” he decides, helping you up. You steady yourself on his shoulders, carefully laving your entrance with him before you lower yourself onto him, feeling the first telltale sting that has you stop with a whine. “Careful.” he speaks up, rubbing at your sides and you try to be, taking him bit by bit. Morax stretched you out in a way his fingers couldn’t and his second shaft rubs at your sore clit, leaving you jolting with sparks of pleasure.

He was roving every inch of you, biting down at his bottom lip when you clench around him. Every bit of him screamed of his self control hovering a step away from a more viscous beast. You don’t think you’re ready for what Morax tucks away in the corners of his mind, but you hope, hope that you could indulge him some day.

You were soaked enough for him to slip in with ease, a collective of your and his arousal trailing down with an audible squelch every time he dared to grind up a little more against you. “Fuck….” he whispers out, a rare lapse in demeanor. “D-does it hurt?”

“No.” you shake your head, a half lie. It stings, yes, but the slow haze of euphoria was pressing up and you knew he would stop if you showed the slightest sign of discomfort — and you did not want him to stop. Not with this lovely warmth, and with him holding you like you were the most delicate of flowers.

The sound he makes is animalistic and he thrusts, just a little, into you. He could hardly help himself, seemingly just as lost as you were ( and he was, with his parted lips and fluttering lashes ). You curl into him, pressing your face into his neck. “That’s it.” he whispers mindlessly. “Wonderful, y-you’re taking me so well…don’t rush now…”

You take the rest of him, seated snugly on his lap with a shaky mewl, tears pricking at your eyes. Morax bares his teeth, groaning freely as the air itself seems to crackle against you. You open your mouth, trying to say something, anything, but he pins you down with a single look. “Little minx .” he rasps.

A laugh bubbles up. You wonder if it’s from amusement, or from the overwhelming rush of dopamine or both.

He kisses the corner of your lips, gathering his bearings. “You’ve had your moment of fun, little love. Now move .”

“Yes sir…” you sigh, and do just that, lifting your hips just a bit before you rock back down onto him. “S-shit…s-so good…”

Morax hums, pursing his lips. His face was flushed and the tattoos on his arms were cast in gold and light. He takes matters into his own hands, pounding up into him with sudden force and your teeth chatter and your eyes roll back with a pathetic whimper.

A few marks of your own were delivered, from your nibbling as Morax continues to thrust up into your drenched cunt, and from your nails scratching at his back. His approval was punctuated by a particularly hard one, that made your head spin and had you see stars. You vaguely register the scent of petrichor through everything else.

“ Morax — ”

The state you were in only behind to sink in. That he was inside you, that he was taking every chance to draw out these obscene sounds from your lips. Even gods could not escape the perversion of mortal desires. Was this even considered blasphemy at this point, when he seemed to be stuck on the same boat as you were, sinking so fast into his lust?

“ — so good for me .” he guides your legs around his abdomen, whispering your name with a weak whine. He bites at your neck, at the marks he inflicted, then soothes them with kisses. He rubs your back and strokes your hair, his tender touch contrasting against his rough movements, grinding into your sweet spots and paired with his second cock rubbing at your clit, you could only lose yourself a second time.

That knot tightens and you feel the onset of your release. It was close, fast coming and you tug at his hair to warn him. Morax growls, his tail winding round your ankle. You try to keep up, try to ride him, but his pace far outmatches yours, stretching you out, pulling you flush against him. You let him use you, your monks reaching a feverish peak, grasping a taste of heaven on your tongue.

“Morax — ah!”

He curls into you, around you with an engulfing embrace with whispered words being uttered into your ear, “Do you want to cum?” You jolt your head. “Then cum… ”

And the bliss washes over you as you finally find it, slumping up into Morax;s patient arms with a near boneless stance. Your eyes met his, the hunger that still rages as he watches with awed fascination at how you come apart and piece back together again with teary eyes and a debauched smile.

“Beautiful.” he mumbles, then presses you face first into the sheets, still sheathed deep inside you. You only just realize he still has reached his own peak yet when he moves, absently reaching out for a pillow for you to grasp.

“God…M- morax — ” you were tired but with overstimulation settling fast and your own desires to see his pleasures being met, you bite into the pillow with a helpless whine. There was a rush in the pain you felt, from feeling all that pleasure wrap into a tight knot while he slicks back and forth into you, hitting your g-spot again with insistent grunts. His pupils were blown wide, like he was trying to take in as much of you as he could.

“M-more!” you blurt out then wince, feeling a hint of shame prick at you for being so greedy. It was about him now; sure you could put your own needs aside.

Morax however, smiles. “ More ?” he coos. “You want more?”

A gasp. You feel his hand settle on your clit, his untouched cock brush against your thigh. “Now who am I to deny you?” He continues his rough thrusts, godly stamina barely denting at his reserves and his pace. Perhaps that came with being an adeptus, this unending virility and endurance. Morax kisses at the back of your neck, laying down more marks to serve as a reminder for the next few days ( that you were, undoubtedly and irrevocably his now ).

Wanton moans pour out easily. Morax delights in them, carefully stimulating spots that were sure to bring the most out of you. The initial phase of searching and mapping out and learning was long gone — he was always quick to pick up on things, and things that make you fall apart into a quivering mess so easily were no exception.

It feels so good. So good —

“Do you want to keep going?” he asks. You feel sore in the best of ways and you nod. You don’t want him to stop. You don't ever want him to stop, drunk on the overstimulation, the euphoria, his cock, him —

Morax lets out a shaky exhale and slams even harder into you. “You’ll be my undoing...” he whispers and you turn your head, catching a glimpse of him. His straight faced composure was long gone, what careful parts of him he keeps hidden from sight having fallen over. Claws prickle at your ass, his eyes are trained on you, you you and when he meets your gaze, he captures your lips in a heated kiss.

“What kind of spell have you ensnared me with, little love?”

You could say the same thing. You try to, cut off by a rough grind on your clit. A lump builds up in your throat, vaguely recalling his small gestures of affection, his admissions, through your heat hazed mind and you arch your back into him to catch another kiss. Morax never needed to say the words and you were fine with it.

“I love you.” you tell him instead, taking everything you had to get your tongue to move. Morax freezes up. He shuts his eyes and strokes your cheeks and buries his face into your neck.

“My Qingxin.” he whispers, tenderly, lovingly. The faltering in his pace, the sloppier jerks of his hips, then undertones of strained control beneath his moans signal his release. You grasp at his free shaft, and the gasp that echoes out was a rewarding one as you stroke him along into his release. “In or out?” he grits out, stuttering for a second. You feel the drag of his cock against your walls. “In.” you blubber.

You blank out after, feeling the rush, the fullness, him spilling out of you, between your legs, onto the mattress, over your stomach. Morax lets out a shudder, his marks glowing a faint gold before he pulls out. His hand does not leave your clit. Coaxing your third peak out with gentle kisses and insistent mumbles. The pain was sharp but you drink it in, pride lining every crevice of you till you jolt, that pressure finally releasing.

“Thank you.” you mumble. Intimacy was always so foreign, and a kind touch was a far away thought. Morax settles down, pulling you to him as he kisses away the drying tears and the sated touch starvation. He kisses you on the lips. Then the tip of your nose. Then at the bites he inflicted.

“Rest.” he whispers.

The cadence of his voice made it hard to disagree with and you feel unconsciousness wash over you fast. You could vaguely make out the sheets being changed and a damp cloth washing you down.

Morax’s weight next to you was the last thing you register.

“Are you well?”

Morax could count the number of times you sought refuge beneath his arm, eyes roving the stalls in the harbor with caution and nervousness. Your jumpiness was an expected clause, and a slightly endearing one as he walks you along the streets as a mortal man and his lover. There were no gods in Liyue Harbor today, at least none the people were aware of.

“Zhongli.”

He turns his head. “Yes, love?”

You fall into earnest silence. “I think I'm going to freak out.” you say. As taught as a bowstring against him. You grip at his hanfu tighter. “They’re staring. Why are they staring?”

“I suppose a new face does bring raised brows. That…” he dips his head down, nose brushing against your cheek with a loving chuckle. “...and you look exceptionally beautiful today, love.” You tug at his sleeve. “Ah, would some food ease my flower’s nerves then?” another tug. He takes that as a yes.

Even so, Morax knew you. Qingxins were flowers that know the intimate dangers of the mountain side and the bustle of the harbor below. You will grow, as you do and you will adapt as you do, maybe slowly, maybe quickly. He knows not to rush it along and he contents himself with your company and your curious question and the bliss on your face when you try a skewer.

“Liyue is beautiful.” you admit after a while. “Crowded, but beautiful.”

“Thank you.”

“I’m not used to this.” you tell him for the umpteenth time, quick, apologetic and Morax has none of that ( why would he ever see it fit to fault you? ). He takes your hand, pressing a fluttering kiss on your palm.

You shoot him a flustered glare. He smiles. “We’ll take our time. This old man has much to spare.” and he does.

He’ll wait millennia if it is for you.

📼 — AUTHORS NOTES

reposting done XD.

TAGLIST ノ join the taglist. — @silentmoths @meimeimeirin @sleepynoons @meirvelle @endursent.

@jessamine-rose @ofoceansandtombsanew @chiyoso @4acoffee @loveliluc.

#📼 — entries.#zhongli x reader #zhongli #genshin zhongli #zhongli smut #morax x reader #genshin morax #morax x you #genshin impact #genshin #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader

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creamflix · 2 months ago

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gojo satoru x female reader; 18+ content, minors or ageless blogs do not interact. established relationship. use of onahole, m. masturbation. lowkey perv satoru ૮꒰⸝⸝> ̫ <⸝⸝꒱ა — masterlist here ☆ full length fic here

"sorry, man, but i'm really not available tonight. got a special date," he says with a wink, knowing full well he won’t be leaving his apartment.

or maybe he'll throw in a more casual, "you know how it is — my girl needs me tonight." when he's out with friends and the conversation veers toward dating, gojo doesn't hold back. "nah, nah, she’s perfect. seriously, perfect," he’ll say, grinning like he’s got the best-kept secret.

the truth? he does.

the onahole was custom-made down to every little detail — soft, smooth, and molded to match the perfect heat and tightness of you. he’d spent a little more than he should’ve to have it designed exactly like you, with every lush curve and snug texture accounted for. hell, he'd even gone out of his way to add faintly scented oils, so when he closes his eyes and slips inside, it’s like he's right there with you, cradled in your warmth.

tonight, he has it all set up: dimmed lights, his favorite playlist humming softly in the background, and a bed of fresh sheets that smell faintly like your perfume. gojo’s grin widens as he positions himself, letting the warm, slick mold press against him just right. he closes his eyes and sighs, hips rolling with a slow rhythm as he whispers, "fuck, baby, you really do miss me, huh? so tight f'me, even when you’re not here..."

he’s just hit a blissful high when his phone lights up with your name. quickly composing himself, he picks up, voice warm but shaky. “hey, sweetheart. you done with work?” he asks, squeezing the onahole absentmindedly, breath a little quicker than usual. "yeah, missin' you like crazy... you been thinkin' of me too?" he chuckles low, stifling a groan as his hips shift involuntarily.

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artinvain · 5 months ago

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big mean lawyer abby tying her belt around readers thighs to secure a vibrator.. maybe some overstim action… idk i trust you’ll make this good :P

your honour my clients need abby anderson smut or they will die!

cw: daddy usage, sub space, overstim, rope play, fingering, mean!abby, aftercare

men, minors, ageless blogs dni or follow

abby looks so pretty with her glasses balancing on the tip of her nose, eyes straining as she studies her case, looking over her defendants files and you know you should take this seriously and give her space. but the way her arm flexes so subtly as she moves her arm

“I can hear you sweetheart,” abby sighs, “you’re rubbing your thighs together on the squeaky floorboard — are you doing that on purpose?” abby turns to you, pushing the glasses up her nose and biting at lip at the sight of you.

“you look pretty,” she smirks at your tiny shorts and her button up falling off your shoulder, “abby,” you whine and she rolls her eyes. “nuh- uh, baby you know I have to work.”

you pad over in socked feet and take Abby’s hands as she sighs, placing them at the top of your ass so she can feel your lace panties. “maybe you need a break,” you whisper into her ear and go to kiss her neck but abby inhales through her teeth and pulls your head back from her neck by your hair.

“you need to stop, I’m busy,” abby kisses your forehead and gets back to work even as you pout at her. you cook, come around to give her food and pushing your breasts in her face. you try to watch a movie but you get to finicky half way through and moan out loud to no reaction. all you can think about is abby’s hands all over your body, kissing down your chest - your nipples in her mouth. you can’t help but groan low at the thought.

“abby-“

you sigh, walking towards her as she turns in her chair to face you. “god you’re fucking pathetic,” abby stands and pulls you in - kissing you and cradling your head so she can lick and suck your tongue the way she wants. her other hand roams to your ass to smack you.

“baby go fucking play with yourself,” she groans and you clench your jaw as she leaves you standing to sit back down. play with yourself. you turn to your bedroom.

abby hears you rifling around and then nothing. she settles into working again until she hears a low hum and the vibrator slicking through your folds.

abby groans, a stomping into the room “you stupid slut,” she spits and clambers onto the bed grabbing the hitachi wand from you and slapping your wet cunt open and on display for her “you told me to-“

“I told you to? I told you to fucking break my rules?” your giggle turns into a moan as abby presses the vibrator to your clit and chuckles “yeah, play with myself” you mumble and she mutters and pulls her belt off.

abby closes your thighs around the vibrator and handles it so it’s buzzing on your clit. “here, play all you fucking want,” she moans as your back arches while she ties her belt around your thighs, the leather pressing hard into your skin. “desperate fucking bitch,” she moans kissing your forehead, “just so needy for me yeah?” abby squeezes your cheeks, puckering your lips and spiting on them.

“swallow- you move, you don’t cum for a week,” abby says and you’re moaning hands clutching the sheets as you tightenyour thighs around the vibrator. abby comes back with rope, soft and pink as she ties your legs together and then your wrists. and then she’s playing with your pretty nipples - stiffening them and you moan out as you feel a cool clamp on both of your nipples.

“look so pretty like this - can’t want to come back and see you all fucked out,” she mumbles into your neck, placing a kiss there and twisting and pinching your nipples as you whine.

“abby no no please don’t leave -“ you cry out as she chuckles and gets back to her desk. she’s swallowing hard and rubbing at her cunt hearing you squeak and moan just down the hall. all she can hear is you moaning and wiggling on the bed, “abby please, feels so good - wanna touch you,” you babble.

so touch starved even the sheets feel good. rubbing against you, your nipples perked and sensitive - “abby m’gonna cum fuck- please please,” you gasp out, trying and failing to hold back as you cum, the wand pressing against your cunt as you turn over and bite your pillows.

“s’okay angel you can cum for me,” she moans forcing herself to focus on her work before she cums in her pants. “abby, want you to touch me - need your hands on me,” you whine out, thinking about her hands rubbing all over your body setting your skin on fire.

your brain high on your orgasm and you can’t stop whining out because the vibrator is fucking you through your orgasm and the more you move to more it rubs into every part of your sensitive pussy.

“want your fingers, and your c-cock, wanna suck you off abs-“ your back arches and your head pushes hard into the pillows below you. your head spinning and getting cloudy as you’re pulled closer to your edge again.

abby curses herself - not being able to touch you is more torturous for her than she can bare - but then she listens, really listens and you’re fucking crying. abby’s palm rubbing on her clit as she groans, brows furrowed as she listens to you beg for her.

“daddy,” you groan out loudly followed by babbles of praise and blasphemy “yeah, daddy feels good god - please I’ll be so good, such a good girl,” you cry out as you cum again and so does abby shaking and making a fucking wet spot in her boxers. abby stands and stomps toward your bedroom, your pretty face reddened and wet with tears that stain the pillows below you along with your drool.

“can’t daddy - I can’t”

“yes you can sweet girl,” abby moans as she holds your close and kisses your face, so drunk she can tell you’re head is far up in the clouds, “daddy,” you moan,

“m’here, just feel good for me - my stupid fucking needy girl,” she moans turning the vibrator up as you grip her shirt and yell,

“I know baby, fuck that must feel good huh? why don’t you cum for me?”

you cum burying your face in her neck and biting down on her shoulder as you cum again. she unties you quicker than you can register in this state and “fuck oh my god you’re all swollen for me,” abby moans, sinking two fingers in and kissing your overstimulated clit. licking and sucking the puffy bundle of nerves into her mouth and curling her fingers into you as your eyes roll back and you grab for her shoulders.

“feels so good - fuck fuck,” you cry into her shoulder kissing and biting at her neck, abby tugs at the chains on your nipples and you cum, pressing her face into your neck.

“good girl, aw you did you so well sweet pea,” abby kisses your face and mouth and eyes and cheeks as she eases her fingers out of you and sucks on them groaning as you fall limp in her arms.

“god you’re an angel - you look so pretty all fucking drunk for me,” she moans, pulling you onto her chest as you babble and moan. her hands rubbing soothingly over your body. “daddy,” you whine and abby kisses your face squeezing you tight.

“m’right here honey, it’s okay, you did so good — you’re such a good girl.” she sighs laying back on the bed stroking your hair.

“you sounded so pretty darling, my good girl,” she mutters into your temple.

😗🏷️ @lesbian-useless @sexysapphicshopowner @iamaboringrattat @lavendersgirl @bimboprincezz @emiliabby

#lesbian #18+ mdni #lesbian smut #abby tlou smut #men dni #abby anderson smut #nsft lesbian #mdni #abby tlou

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kwanisms · 3 months ago

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Kinktober 「10:02」 — s.mingi

» ateez menu | mingi menu | kinktober masterlist «

➮ werehyena!Mingi × fem!reader wc: 4k summary: Y/N hasn’t been intimate with her boyfriend but not by choice. Every time she tries, he always ends up pushing her away and its starting to affect her confidence. After an argument, Mingi finally blurts out just why he's been pushing her away this whole time. genres/themes/au: angst/fluff/smut; supernatural, horror, thriller; non idol au, monster idol au warnings: adult dialogue, female reader, supernatural and horror themes, mentions of: food consumption, insecurities, past trauma, breakups; sexual content (18+ mdni), see smut warnings under the cut! taglist has been moved to reblogs join my taglists! taglist for kinktober is CLOSED. Strikethrough means I cannot tag you. MINORS WILL BE BLACKLISTED & BLOCKED. AGELESS BLOGS WILL ALSO BE BLOCKED.

a/n: i promise the next thing i write for Mingi will make him dom. I already promised @yoonguurt and i will keep that promise but here is some sub mingi for the sub mingi enthusiasts lol also, if anyone is curious, i'm using STRIPED HYENAS as a reference for his werecreatures. NOT SPOTTED. Spotted hyenas are fucking insane to learn about. seriously, if you're curious, look up spotted hyena reproduction. it's literally unreal. anyway, the next part is for Chris' birthday and includes our fave aussies from stray kids! notice how i said aussies 😉 stay tuned for that and as always, this is a work of fiction and all characters are not reflective of their respective irl counterparts. for entertainment purposes only.

smut warnings: teratophilia (aka monsterfucking), facesitting (m receiving), mommy kink, oral (f receiving), handjob (m receiving), sub!Mingi, dom!Reader, use of pet names (hers: mommy, ma’am; his: baby boy, sweetheart, etc), and I think that’s all but let me know if I missed any. kinks: facesitting + mommy kinkdialogue prompt: ❛❛ Sit on my face. ❜❜

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When you first met Mingi, you were intimidated by his presence, taking him as a very imposing and menacing but once you got to know him, you discovered it was merely in his looks alone. Standing at 6’1 with broad shoulders, he was a physically imposing man.

Adding to that aura of dominance was the fact that he wasn’t entirely human. You learned early on that Mingi was a werecreature. Specifically of the hyena variety. It was something you were new to, having never met another werecreature before him.

When things shifted in your relationship with him from platonic to romantic, Mingi was quick to let you know everything he felt was important about his condition. When he transformed, when his heat was, and what he usually did during his transformation and how long it lasted.

When his first transformation since making your relationship official happened, you had seen him the day before, making him a variety of meals for afterwards as you knew he would be too tired and weak to do it himself. His first cycle passed by without issue and soon it became part of your monthly routine to go over the day before, check on him, make him a week’s worth of meals and kiss him goodbye until you saw him a couple days later.

For almost a year, this was the norm for you. Something that had also unintentionally become the norm was not being intimate with Mingi. At all. Sure you’d kissed and even made out but as things got heated, Mingi always managed to push you away, trying to change the course of the evening or even leaving before you got a word in.

You’d never gone beyond a few lingering touches and it was slowly chipping away at your confidence and self esteem. It made you feel unwanted and unattractive despite being the center of male attention when you went out with your friends to the clubs once a month.

You didn’t want the attention of some random guy at the bar trying to buy you enough drinks to forget your own name and end up in bed with him only to regret it the following morning.

You wanted the attention of your boyfriend.

You’d tried speaking to Mingi about this, expressing your concerns but each time he managed to change the subject, steering it in an entirely different direction and avoiding the conversation altogether.

You didn’t expect sex from him. Of course he could have very specific reasons for not wanting to have sex with you but it was the fact he wouldn’t discuss it with you. All you wanted was a reason, something as simple as he wasn’t ready and you would drop it but you didn’t even get that.

And so, after being rejected all day on one of your rare days off, you wanted to find out why your boyfriend didn’t want to have sex with you.

You let out a sigh, keeping your eyes on the TV as you sat on the couch with Mingi sitting a cushion’s distance away, his massive frame taking up the opposite side of the couch from you. You glanced at him out of the corner of your eye, noticing the way his eyes were wandering your body, focusing on the exposed skin of your thighs.

He often would look but never touch. You wanted so desperately for him to touch you in more ways than guiding you out of his way when he was trying to pass you or cupping the back of your head so he could kiss your forehead. You want his hands everywhere.

You heard Mingi clear his throat and you quickly focused your gaze back on the TV. You had no idea what was playing, having lost interest in it a long time ago as you were too busy fantasizing about your massive boyfriend’s hands all over you.

“I’m gonna grab a drink. You want one?” he asked as he got up from the couch, towering over you. “Sure,” you said softly as he nodded and moved around the couch to the kitchen behind where you sat. You heard the fridge open and close and a few moments later, he returned with two cold cans of cola, handing one to you and sitting back down.

“You don’t have to sit all the way over there,” you said as you cracked open your can and took a sip. Mingi turned to look at you wide-eyed. “Oh, uh I’m okay over here,” he said nervously. You set your can down, settling back against the couch, disappointment settling in your chest. “Fine,” you muttered, picking up the remote and changing the channel.

Mingi turned to look at you, taking in your profile as you flipped through channels until you exasperatedly tossed the remote onto the couch between you. “You pick something,” you snapped, not looking at him. Your tone made him recoil internally, wondering why you were upset.

He picked up the remote and flipped through the stations until he found something to put it on. He set the remote on the coffee table as an uncomfortable silence fell over the two of you. He could tell you were thinking hard, something bothering you but you were working out a way to bring it up.

Mingi hated this. He hated fighting with you. He hated the silent treatment. He hated denying you. Earlier, when he’d arrived and sat on the couch, you had joined him while dinner was finishing cooking in the oven. What started as a few kisses turned into more as you straddled his lap, kissing him deeply as you started to grind against him.

Mingi wanted more than anything to let you have him right there on the couch but he was reminded of his past experiences. His previous partners who became weirded out upon learning that a man so strong and physically large was so submissive. He’d never been one to be a leader or in charge of anything and that extended to his preferences in the bedroom.

His relationships in the past failed because of his inability to take charge in not only the bedroom but in the relationship as well. He wasn’t comfortable with it but he really, really liked you, possibly even loved you, and he didn’t want to mess this up. He’d forced himself to take charge in some scenarios but he felt so out of his depth.

And when it came to intimacy with you, he wanted more than anything to be intimate, to give into his more carnal desires but his past trauma held him back and he ended up pushing you away just like earlier. He’d quickly pushed you off him before things go get too far and luckily for him the timer on the oven went off and he was saved for a little while longer.

He knew it was no way to conduct things and that he should have a serious conversation but he just never seemed to be ready because he felt that things would end if he was honest with you. He was trying to prolong the inevitable.

“Do you not like me or something?”

Your question caught him off guard as your words hung in the air, waiting for his response. He turned to look at you, taking in your profile as you sat there, arms crossed over your chest, one leg tucked under you. “What?” he asked stupidly. He shouldn’t have done that. He should have immediately refuted your claim but he was just so taken aback.

“Do you not like me?” you asked again, turning to look at him. Mingi hesitated. Of course he liked you. He loved you. His brows knitted together in confusion. “Of course I like you,” he replied, turning in his seat to look directly at you. “Then why do you always do this?” you asked.

“Do what?” Mingi asked, knowing it was the wrong thing to ask. He knew what you were talking about. Your eyes narrowed. “Always push me away when we start to get intimate.” Mingi felt his stomach sink, the same feelings of anxiety and dread that he always got when this topic came up, rising into his chest.

It was starting to get hot in the apartment. He needed fresh air.

“I need some air,” he said getting up.

“No,” you said, getting to your feet and following your boyfriend. “We’re not doing this again!”

Mingi sighed as he stopped abruptly, making you run into him before he turned. “I can’t have this conversation with you, really,” he said. “Why?” you asked, feeling a pang in your chest when he turned and started for the door. Panic rose up inside of you as you watched him grab his keys from the counter as he passed it. You don’t know what came over you but you weren’t about to let this go.

“Song Mingi, if you walk out that door, we are through!!”

He froze, hand on the doorknob as your voice rang through the apartment. His shoulders visibly relaxed before he turned to look at you, a look of shock on his face. “You’d break up with me over this?” he asked softly. You threw your hands up in exasperation. “I don’t know what you expect me to do!” you all but shouted at him.

“I’m trying to have a mature conversation with you but all you’ve done is shut me down. I just want to know why you don’t want me!” you said, the corners of your eyes burning as you fought back tears. “I… don’t want you?” Mingi asked, sounding confused. “When have I ever said I didn’t want you?” he asked, walking back into the living room.

“You didn’t have to say it!” you countered. “Every time we’re intimate, you always push me away before it gets too far. I could understand if you would explain to me that you aren’t ready or it was something else but you won’t even entertain a conversation about it with me!” You blinked away the tears and turned away from him, not wanting to let him see you cry.

“What else am I supposed to think?”

Silence fell over the two of you, punctuated only by the sound of the TV, forgotten in the midst of your argument. Maybe it was better to just let him go, let this all go. Maybe you’d be better off. You loved Mingi, you really did, but you never signed on for all of this. You knew getting involved with him was going to be a learning experience after he revealed his nature as a werecreature but to you, that was nothing.

The silence was broken by the sound of Mingi’s keys being set on the counter and the floor creaking as he walked towards where you stood. You felt his arms wrap around you, warmth from his body enveloping you as he rested his head on yours. “It’s not because I don’t want you,” he murmured, finally speaking.

“I want you so bad I can barely stand it,” he added. “I just don’t want to scare you off.” You turned in his arms to face him. “How would it scare me off?” you asked, looking at him with a confused expression, brows knitting together. “Because,” Mingi started, his voice faltering. “It’s embarrassing,” he continued. “You thought I would judge you?” you asked. Mingi shrugged.

“It’s happened in the past. The people I’ve dated didn’t want…” he trailed off. “Didn’t want what?” you asked, trying to coax it out of him. He sighed, throwing his head back to look up at the ceiling. “Someone like me,” he blurted out. You reached up, cupping the back of his neck and forcing him to look down at you. “What does that mean? Someone like you?”

“I’m not very… confident,” he started. You snorted. “Now that’s a damn lie,” you retorted. “You’re the most confident man I know,” you added. Mingi shook his head. “Confident is the wrong word,” he admitted. “I’m not… I don’t like to be… in charge.”

Realization dawned on you and you let out a sigh. “You’re not dominant,” you stated. Mingi nodded, shutting his eyes and bracing for what you assumed was some sort of angry response. It nearly broke your heart that he felt he had to lie and hide this from you because of the reactions of his past relationships. You could understand his hesitation. But you weren’t like his previous partners.

“Mingi,” you started, grabbing the front of his shirt when he tried to turn away. “Yah,” you said sternly. “Look at me when I’m speaking to you!” the tone in your voice must have surprised him. You’d never sounded so commanding before. At least not to him. “Yes, ma’am,” he answered quickly.

“I wish you had just told me, instead of hiding it from me,” you explained, cupping his cheek. “If you had told me, we could have solved this a lot sooner instead of tiptoeing around it.” Mingi leaned into your touch. “I’m sorry,” he said softly. “I thought that if I told you, it might make you leave me.”

You pulled him into a kiss. “I almost broke up with you because I thought you weren’t attracted to me,” you said softly. “This is why we need to communicate,” you continued. “I’m not like your previous partners, you know this.” Mingi nodded, pressing another kiss to your lips. “I know,” he murmured. “And I never should have compared you to them. I was just…”

“Scared,” you said. “I get it. It can be hard to break that cycle of trauma.”

“It’s not weird though,” you continued, taking his hand and pulling him towards the bedroom. “I don’t mind taking control,” you added, smiling at him as you pushed the door open with your back. “How about you lay down and let me take care of you. How does that sound, baby?”

Mingi nodded wordlessly as you guided him over to the bed, turning so you could push him down onto it. He landed on his butt with a soft oof as you moved to shut the door and returned to him. “Let me take care of you,” you repeated, slowly kneeling in front of him, hand sliding down his chest to the waistband of his sweats.

You slipped your fingers under the elastic pulling it forward slightly before letting it snap back against his stomach, making him gasp. You chuckled softly as you grabbed the sides of the waistband and started tugging. He lifted his hips, letting you pull the material all the way down his thighs and to the floor where it pooled around his ankles. He sat in his underwear, waiting for your next move.

You could see he was starting to grow hard but you knew Mingi’s body, even if you hadn’t seen it fully. You knew that your boyfriend had a massive cock and from what you could see now, half hard, you were correct in your assumptions. You pressed your hand over the bulge in his boxers, making him his, a shudder run up his spine as his eyes fluttered shut.

“Does that feel good?” you asked, stroking him slowly, watching his expressions. “Y-yes,” he whined, hips starting to roll up into your touch. You could feel him growing harder and harder by the minute and decided to take it a step further. You slipped your hand into his underwear, pulling his cock free from the material. Wrapping your fingers around the base, you started to slowly pump your hand up and down.

“Fuck,” your boyfriend hissed. “Feels so good, babe.”

You let go, spitting into your hand and resumed stroking him, your saliva working as a lubricant and moving faster with ease. He was almost completely hard by this point. “Babe, please,” Mingi whined. “What is it?” you asked softly, your speed never faltering as you looked up at your boyfriend. “I wanna be inside you,” he whined, hips bucking.

You clicked your tongue as you slowed your hand for a moment. “No, baby,” you answered. Mingi whined again, shaking under your touch. “Please, mommy,” he gasped and you felt your cheeks burn. That was a new one. You’d never been called that before but you weren’t about to comment on it. Not when you wanted to focus on making Mingi feel good. You could discuss it later.

“Sorry baby,” you said softly. “Only good boys get their dicks wet.” Mingi whined, lifting his head to meet your gaze. “It’s literally wet right now,” he countered but you shushed him, stroking him faster and making him remove his shirt. He did as you asked, tossing the tee to the floor.

“Please, baby. I’ll be good, I promise,” Mingi begged. It was tempting to give into him but why the rush? “Not tonight, baby boy,” you cooed. “Maybe in the morning.” You continued to stroke him, his hips bucking up to meet your movements as you drew him closer to his high.

You felt his cock throb and twitch in your hand and you knew he was close. “Just a little more,” you cooed. “Be a good boy and cum.”

As if on command, Mingi let out a moan and you angled his cock away from you, watching as thin ropes of his milky white cum shot out of him, landing on his toned stomach, contrasting with his tanned skin. You continued to pump him slowly, making sure to squeeze every last drop out of him.

“What a good boy you are,” you said sweetly as you got to your feet, ignoring the gusset of your panties sticking to you as you climbed onto the bed. “I bet that felt really good, didn’t it?” you asked, to which he nodded. “Let’s get you cleaned up,” you said, starting to get up but his grip on you was strong. He muttered something that you couldn’t make out.

You leaned over to hear him better. “What was that, baby?” you asked. “You need to speak up.”

“I said,” Mingi started, licking his lips. “Sit on my face.” You let out a chuckle. “It’s okay, baby,” you said softly, caressing his cheek. “You don’t need to do anything. We can clean up and go again tomorrow if you really want to.” Mingi shook his head. “No,” he said, grabbing your wrist, moving to lace his fingers with yours. “Please, Y/N,” he whined. “P-please, mommy. I want you to sit on my face!”

You stared at him, nibbling on your bottom lip for a moment before you relented. “Fine,” you said. “But no cleaning or wiping your mess away until I cum, do you understand me?” you asked, leaning over to look into his eyes. He nodded. “Yes, ma’am.”

You got off the bed, tugging your shorts and underwear down and letting them fall to the floor, stepping out of them and then returning to Mingi on the bed. He waited eagerly as you straddled his chest. “Before we do this. You have to tell me if you can’t breathe. Tap my thigh three times if you need air,” you instructed. Mingi shook his head. “I don’t need air,” he replied. “I just need your pussy on my tongue, right now.”

You reached behind you, grabbing his sensitive, soft cock. He let out a whimper before nodding. “Yes mommy,” he said quickly. You let go and scooted forward until your knees were on either side of his head. Mingi’s hand moved up to cup your ass. “It’s okay,” he said softly. “Just sit down.”

You lowered yourself onto his waiting tongue and let out a moan as he immediately wrapped his lips around your clit, teasing it with the tip of his tongue, the room filling with lew slurping sounds. You reached down, combing your fingers through his hair gently. You felt him flatten his tongue against your clit, licking up and down slowly before he started to circle the nub with the tip.

You let out a moan, eyes fluttering shut as he continued to make out with your sex, ignoring the wetness that seeped from you onto his lips and chin. He could careless and lapped away at your core, fingers digging into the plush of your ass, pulling you down and close as possible.

His tongue traced down to your hole, teasing the entrance before he pulled you flush against him, his tongue wiggling into your pussy. You let out a gasp, feeling his nose bump against your clit as he tasted everything you had to give him. His tongue slipped out and was back on your clit, flicking against it in quick succession, each flick making your body jerk violently as he built you up to your climax.

Your fingers in his hair tightened as your hips started to move involuntarily. Mingi gently pushed you up slightly. “Yes, ride my tongue,” he murmured, slurring his words before pulling you back down on his flat tongue, letting you grind against him. You let go of his hair, leaning over to place your hands against the mattress as you started to roll your hips, grinding your clit against his tongue.

Your body shook, thighs squeezing his head as your orgasm washed over you, a wave of euphoria spreading throughout your body as you continued to ride out your high. Finally, you shuddered, feeling the effects of your exertion in the burning of your thighs but also in the sensitive bundle of nerves your boyfriend was still licking slowly.

You finally pulled away, lifting off his face and swinging your leg over to kneel beside him. The lower half of his face was coated in your release, shining in the low light of your bedroom.

“You are a mess,” you said with a chuckle before getting up and heading into your ensuite bathroom to grab a clean washcloth, wetting it with warm water and returning to the bed. Mingi held out his hand but you pushed it away and started wiping his face clean before wiping down his stomach, cleaning it of his release.

Once you were satisfied he was no longer sticky, you tossed the towel into the hamper as Mingi’s arms circled your waist, pulling you onto his naked lap and smiling up at you with a very tired and lazy smile. You felt his cock prod at your thigh and you chuckled, running your fingers through his hair before kissing him. “You’re hard again,” you noted between kisses.

“Mmm,” he hummed in answer. “I could go again,” he offered. “But I’m also very tired.” You nodded. “My thighs are burning,” you admitted. “How about we rest and then maybe later we can go again. Maybe I’ll even let you fuck me,” you said, pulling him into a slow, languid kiss that was messy and nothing but tongue. “Have I been a good boy?” he asked, perking up slightly, making you laugh.

“Yes,” you answered. “You’ve been a very good boy,” you added. Mingi pulled you into a kiss, grabbing your hips and pushing you down so his cock pressed against your clit. “I could go right now,” he said eagerly. “You won’t even have to do anything,” he added. You cupped his cheek, pressing a kiss to his lips. “If you promise I won’t have to lift a finger,” you said.

Mingi nodded excitedly. “I promise!” he said eagerly. You nodded, nose bumping against his. “Alright,” you replied, kissing him and pulling back, resisting the urge to laugh when he pouted, trying to chase your lips. “Show me what you can do, big boy.”

Keeping his hold on you, Mingi shifted from sitting to his knees and laid you back against the pillows before removing your top, dropping it to the floor and cupping your chest over your bralette. He kissed down your chest, pushing your bralette up and taking one of your nipples in his mouth, swirling his tongue around it before kissing down your stomach, moving your legs over his shoulders as he drew level with your cunt.

“Will you let me fuck you without a condom?” he asked suddenly. You reached down, brushing his hair back. “One step at a time,” you said. “Make me cum with your mouth and then we’ll discuss condoms afterwards. Sound good?” you asked. Mingi nodded. “Yeah, that sounds good.”

You nodded, leaning back against the pillows. “Don’t worry about rushing,” you reminded him.

“We have all night.”

©️ kwanisms 2024 | all works on this blog are protected under copyright. Do not repost, continue, or translate my works. All graphics made by me.

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everyonewooeverywhere · 11 months ago

Text

MDNI 18+ BLOG -> ageless blogs and minors WILL BE BLOCKED

pairing ✭ mechanic!mingi x f!reader

synopsis ✭ when a random girl keeps shamelessly flirting with mingi, despite his many attempts to ward her off, he needs a knight dressed his own sweater and a black mini skirt to fend her off.

content/genre ✭ smut (18+ MDNI)

word count ✭ 2.5k

warnings ✭ smut, please MDNI (seriously), clothed sex (mostly), on top of his car (🫣), fingering, minor jealousy (from mc), spanking, despite the title there's really no dom/sub dynamic (just mc trying to protect her man)

✭✭✭✭

You noticed her immediately when you pulled your car into the shop. Of course you did, she was chatting it up with your boyfriend with a hand reaching out to grab his arm. He pulled back in obvious disinterest, but it irked you nonetheless that another woman was after your man. You knew him well enough to know that he’d definitely told her he had a girlfriend. Despite this, she certainly seemed to think that she was his type. With her grease-stained cargo pants and tight tank top you could tell she worked with cars just like him.

So what the fuck did she need here? You wondered to yourself.

You hadn’t yet gotten out of the car and continued to watch them from a distance when someone knocked on your window. Yunho grinned down at you from outside the car. You waved at him, slightly embarrassed that he’d caught you staring so intently at the sight in front of you. He gave you a friendly wave as you stepped out of the car.

When you got out of the car, you saw her give you a glance over and roll her eyes. Oh you were gonna fucking lose it. It was obvious from the way she had looked at you that she was judging your appearance, and you got the vibe that she would give you the same treatment that most other men you give you if you came to them with a car problem. Like you were some stupid little girl who would be easy to upsell. Did you know anything about cars, not really, but you had a sexy mechanic boyfriend to do that shit for you so what was the need?

“She’s been here every day this week,” Yunho informed you, clearly aware of your annoyance toward the woman giving bedroom eyes at Mingi, “claims something different is wrong every time she comes in, but when she gets here everything works fine. Then she never leaves. She’s luck it’s been a slow week, or he would have fully lost it by now”

You scoff quietly, “have you tried to ‘help’ her?”

“Yes,” he sighs, “but she always dodges my help and finds a way to drag him back over.”

Of course she does.

“Anyway, is anything wrong with your car?”

“Of course not,” you laugh, “but, if you wanna take a look, be my guest.”

Yes, you were fully aware of the irony of you and this woman having identical motives when pulling your cars into the shop, but at least you were always a welcome surprise who didn’t go around trying to sleep with other people’s boyfriends.

“Sure. I’ll look,” Yunho grabbed your keys from you. “Um, by the way, I can tell you he certainly wouldn’t mind if you went over and saved him. You know, assert your dominance.”

That line made you giggle. You brushed out your black mini skirt and checked your lip gloss in the side mirror of your car. Luckily, you were feeling incredibly cute today, in your possibly too short skirt and sweater that totally belonged to your boyfriend. The heels on your feet were a gift from him as well, and you always felt sexy hearing the sound they made when you walked. And that was the noise they made as you made your way over to them.

She saw you first. “I’m sorry, can we help you? Isn’t he helping you out?” She asked, clearly annoyed, pointing her finger at Yunho who was checking out your tires. Clearly trying to ward you off, and you got the idea that she knew exactly who you were.

Her acknowledgment of you though, made Mingi turn around. Finally seeing you for the first time since you’d stepped foot in his shop today. He was visibly relieved as he took a step toward you, “hey baby, I didn’t realize you were coming in today.”

He grinned when you placed a manicured hand on his chest. He wouldn’t bring it up now, but he fucking loved when your jealous side came out. And he knew that this specific touch’s purpose was to stake your claim.

“I missed you,” you sighed, stepping closer, “you’ve been so busy this week, and I haven’t seen you at all.”

His hands found your waist and pulled you all the way into him, “I know baby. I’m so sorry.” He placed a chaste kiss on your cheek, “I've had a lot of customers waste my time this week, and I just can’t catch a break.”

You giggle as the girl next to you scoffs, “Wow Mingi, you didn’t tell me your girlfriend was so,” she eyed you up and down again but, before she can finish what was bound to be a wonderful insult, you cut her off.

“Oh so you knew he had a girlfriend and were still all over him like a bitch in heat.”

She laughed at you, "he doesn't mind. Right, Min? Sorry sweetheart, you're not as special as you might think. Maybe, he needs someone a little more real, not some plastic bitch who doesn't even know how to change her own tires."

Sensing that you were about to fully unleash yourself onto this fucking cunt, Mingi put a soothing hand on your shoulder and spoke sternly, “Get out.”

She gaped at him, “Wha-”

“You can fucking fix your car yourself, if there’s even anything wrong with it, but make sure you see Yunho on your way out. He’ll charge you before you leave.”

“You can’t be serious.”

“Of course I’m serious. You’ve wasted a lot of fucking time for me this week with your perfectly fine car. My time is precious, and since you wasted it, I'm gonna need you to pay up.”

He looked back over at your car, “Yunho, please deal with this.”

The other man’s shoulders slumped, clearly not keen on dealing with this woman, but he made no effort to argue. You made a mental note to bring him lunch next time you came in to make up for it.

Mingi grabbed the hand that’s still on his chest and leaned down to your ear, “come with me.”

✭✭✭✭

“God, I’ve missed you so fucking much baby,” he breathed into you neck as he placed kisses on it.

You smiled and placed a hand in his hair, gripping lightly onto his dark hair, “I’ve missed you, too.”

You were in the back of the shop, where Mingi kept his own car. You didn’t know the make or the model, but you knew it was a sexy car. And you were well acquainted with it. From it pulling up outside your apartment for the occasional lunch date. To late nights in the backseat when you both knew you couldn’t make it to a bed. And then to moments like these. Days in the shop where your boyfriend wanted nothing more than to see you all on display for him on top of the hood.

“Why didn’t you tell me someone was bothering you, Min?” you pouted as his hands fiddled with the edge of your (his) sweater.

“Oh, y/n I can handle myself, baby, you don’t need to worry yourself with stuff like that.”

Sighing, you placed a hand on his cheek, “you know I just wanna help and be there for you. Will you at least tell me next time?”

“Of course. I’m sorry I didn’t bring it up. I promise I’ll tell you next time. Ok?”

You nodded as you moved your hand from his cheek to the back of his head, pulling him back down to your lips. His hands started wandering as the two of you explored each other’s mouths. He removed a hand that was tangled in your hair and caressed your neck. His mouth followed the hand, leaving plenty of dark spots all over your pretty neck.

When he reached for the hem of the sweater you were wearing, you grabbed at his hand, “I don’t wanna get naked in here.”

And you really didn’t. As much as you loved your boyfriend, getting fully undressed anywhere but the bedroom was a line you very rarely crossed. Especially in a place as unkempt and naturally messy as the shop he spends most of his days in. You were a woman of at least a little class, but keeping your clothes on didn’t mean that sex was off the table. Not at all, actually.

“Ok, love,” he moved his hands to fiddle with the edge of your skirt, “it’s a good thing you wore such a tiny skirt today then, right?”

You nodded, biting your lip to suppress your smile, “you can take my panties off if you really want to, though.” You said through a whisper.

He didn’t need any convincing because in the next moment he’d slipped your panties off your legs and put them in his pocket. His hands were under your skirt now. One gripping your waist and holding you in place. The other teasingly stroking your inner thigh.

“Mingi, please,” you begged breathily, desperately trying to shift closer to his hand, but the other one on your waist was completely preventing that.

He smirked at your desperation, “patience, baby. I’ll take care of you. I promise.”

As a man of his word, his thumb brushed your clit, and you let out a whine when he pushed two fingers into you. He worked over your clit with his thumb as he pumped his fingers in and out of you.

“Oh, Min–” you moaned and gripped his shoulders tight.

The hand from your waist moved to grab your throat as he leaned close to your ear, “God, baby, you moan so pretty for me. You’ll let me know when you’re close, yeah?”

You could barely get out a breath “yes” before he slid another finger into your already soaking cunt. Your grip on his shoulders tightened. Wrapping a leg around his back, you arched your back, trying every option to get as close to him as possible. You lost all control of your hips and ground yourself into his hand in sync with his own movements.

When you felt the familiar knot in your stomach, you whined, and your eyes fluttered shut, “I’m close! So close.”

“Let go for me baby. I got you.”

As you reached your climax, you wrapped your legs around his waist.

“Good girl,” his lips reached your own as you came down from your high. He pulled you off the hood of his car and set you on the ground. He looked you up and down, admiring you fully. He lifted a hand to caress your face and his thumb brushed over your cheek. Smiling, he said, “you always do so good for me baby. Turn around for me, yeah?”

You turned around quickly, eager for what you knew was coming next. Without him even having to ask, you leaned over the hood of his car. Giving him just the view he wanted. His hands were quick to flip up your skirt and smooth his hands over your ass. He gripped one cheek in his hand, and you braced yourself on your forearms. When he let go, you wiggled your ass and looked back over your shoulder. Challenging him with your eyes.

He brought his hand back down on your ass, slapping it. When you let out an obvious and loud moan, he smirked and leaned down over you, “you’re so fucking impatient baby, are you really so worked up? Let me help you out. Does that sound good?”

“Please, Mingi,” you begged (god he loved when you couldn’t stop begging), “I need you!”

“Where do you need me, baby?”

“Inside,” you moaned when he slapped your ass again.

“You want my cock, baby?” You could hear him unzipping his pants and the rustle of fabric behind you. Fucking finally.

All you could do was nod desperately and look back at him over your shoulder with begging eyes. He couldn’t fucking hold it together when you gave him those eyes. So desperate and needy that he could almost see tears. And the pout on your lips was the cherry on top.

You braced yourself again when he gripped his hips with one hand. When he finally pushed into you, you moaned out softly.

With one hand gripping your waist hard enough to bruise and the other playing with your clit, he thrust into you. His car shook, and you struggled to hold yourself up but, god, it felt so good. After a week of missing him constantly, you couldn’t think of anything but how full you felt with each thrust. He couldn’t help himself, either from telling you how good you felt.

Shit, baby, you just keep getting wetter.

You just love it when I fill you up like this, don’t you?

Oh, you’re close, baby. I can feel you closing around me so good.

Fuuuuck, god angel I’m almost there. Can I fill you up?

“Yes, yes, yes, please!” you cried. Your loud and pornographic moans bounced off the walls as you reached your climax.

He followed soon after, filling you to the brim. You felt so warm and flushed. Your eyes fluttered in post-orgasm bliss. Panting, he flipped you back over onto your back and helped you sit up. He kissed you one more time, “thank you for coming to visit.”

“Of course,” you laughed softly, “I mean if you reward me like this everytime, then I’ll just come in every day like that bitch earlier, but I can’t promise I’ll pay you for your time.”

“Oh baby, you being here is enough, and your pretty pussy is the perfect payment,” he moved a finger back down to your core and pushed his cum back inside of you.

“Mmmm,” you ran hand through his hair, nails scraping his scalp, “as much as I’d love to go again, you closed an hour ago, and Yunho’s probably waiting for you to lock up.”

Mingi groaned as he finished putting his pants back on. He lifted you off the car, “can I have my panties back please?” You reached a hand out to him.

“Oh,” he laughed as he reached into his pocket to give them back to you.

✭✭✭✭

“Did she leave?” Mingi asked his friend who was finishing up putting new tires on your car. So maybe you actually did need something done with it.

The other man laughed, “oh she left alright. She tried to stick around, but when she heard you two having fun back there she took off. Kinda felt bad for her honestly.”

You rolled your eyes and scoffed at his sympathy even though you felt an immense sense of satisfaction at knowing you had fended her off so easily. You had “asserted your dominance” to quote Yunho.

Mingi placed a hand on your lower back, “don’t worry baby, we won’t be seeing her for a while.” He turned to Yunho, “You can go man, I’ll finish locking up. Thanks for your help.”

“Good night man, have fun locking up.” Clearly implying that you might distract him from such a task.

When Yunho was gone, it was only seconds before you were backed into the back door of your own car, and Mingi reached around you to open the door. “Get in, baby.”

You could only giggle as you climbed in, pulling him in after you by the collar of his t-shirt. When he shut the door behind him, he leaned over you, “just one more. Ok, baby?”

“Ok,” you responded breathlessly. Knowing full well you would be under him in your bed soon enough.

✭✭✭✭

note ✭ thank you for reading. i'm trying my best over here, but university is kicking my ass. so i appreciate you reading what is essentially a coping mechanism 😀🥲

also this was so nerve racking to post so SEND ME VALIDATION (if you want 😙)

srsly though, thanks for reading! feel free to lmk what you think. reblogs and comments are much appreciated!

have a wonderful day!

mwah~

#mingi smut #ateez #ateez x reader #ateez smut #atz x reader #mingi x reader #18+ mdni #mdni #everyonewooeverywhere #*ੈ✩‧₊˚ dj's work #*ੈ✩‧₊˚ mingi #*ੈ✩‧₊˚ smut

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minniesmutt · 5 months ago

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☾ ━━━━━━ 𝐩𝐡𝐨𝐭𝐨𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐩𝐡

☾ ━━━ PAIRING: LEE KNOW X READER ☾ ━━━ CONTENT: SET IN 2010S, COLLEGE AU, POPULAR!LINO, PHOTOGRAPHER!READER, SWITCH!LEE KNOW, SWITCH!READER, NO AGE IS GIVEN BUT THEY ARE WRITTEN TO BE IN THEIR JUNIOR AND SENIOR YEAR, ALCOHOL, OVERTHINKING, ANXIETY, HINTED INSECURITIES BUT NOTHING IS DESCRIBED, FOOD, ASS GRABBING, PET NAMES, BITING, ORAL (F. REC), MUTUAL MASTURBATION, BOOB PLAY, MARKING, MULTIPLE ORGASMS, CUMSHOT, PHOTOS, PROTECTED SEX, SLIGHT OVER STIM, ALLUDES TO AFTERCARE ☾ ━━━ WC: 8.4K ☾ ━━━ COMMISSIONED WORK! ☾ ━━━ 18+ work!! minors and ageless/blank blogs DNI! you will be blocked, put an indicator on your blog somewhere that you are 18+ before interacting with this work/blog

Accepted. One of the best things Y/n had read in a long time. Getting accepted into her top choice. She had applied on a whim, not thinking she would get in. When the letter came she was sure she was rejected. Especially since the art program was fairly good at the school and some had told her it was harder to get into. But here she was two years later. Now in her junior year and one of the top students in the program. Even if that meant sacrificing her social life for it.

The extent of Y/n’s interactions with her schoolmates was limited to projects. Pairing up with a couple of people in class and photographing the other majors with their permission. The campus itself was the perfect backdrop for every photo. Even out of class, she was photographing everything, getting people in the background too, just wanting to document the experience to show her family when she visited them.

Adjusting to not living with her family was a weird experience. Her family called and texted her every day for the first few months of her freshman year. Just making sure she was settling in alright. She wasn’t exactly a social butterfly, keeping to herself. So it was natural for her family to worry about her being on her own. Was it anxiety-inducing at first? Yes. But she’d settled in pretty well after a while.

College parties were never really her thing either. She’d focused on her projects and classes and voluntarily chose to miss other aspects of her college experience. Even with her family telling her it was okay to post once in a while. Parties, dating, making friends, all that she put aside.

But there was always a bug that crawled out of the woodwork and bit. And this one had to be around Halloween. Hyunjin— someone she was acquainted with from their sharing school art program — had invited her to his housemate's Halloween party. Probably since he was inviting everyone else in the class and didn’t want her to feel excluded.

At the time she just offered him a smile and said okay. Not planning on going at the time, maybe just staying in and watching horror movies. Her usual plans always seemed to work but for some reason, she decided to go. Maybe make a few friends too.

Y/n managed to find a costume that wasn’t super skimpy but was still cute enough to pass. She knew no one really took the holiday seriously in their early adult years and didn’t want to stand out too much. She got dressed the night of the party and walked down to the house the party was at. It wasn’t too far from the campus dormitories. Some people were out in front of the house whenever she walked up.

Anxiety about walking into a new place filled her. Especially with how packed it was. All the bodies just made the room even more hot too. She weaved her way through her crowd of drunk college students, not trying to be rude or anything. The bass from the speakers thumped against her skull as she made her way to the kitchen. Maybe a drink would calm her nerves a bit.

She managed to break free from the bodies and get to the alcohol. Red cups thrown about on the counter. She found the clean stack and searched for liquor and mixers. Debating the large variety the house had.

“Looking for something specific?” A voice showed over the music

She tore her gaze away from the alcohol and was met with a fit about her age. She had zero clue who he was in all honesty.

“No, just debating what sounds good right now,” She replied, still having to yell over the music

“I’m Jisung,” the guy introduced himself, holding his hand out to her

“I’m Y/n,” she shook his hand and ordered a small smile. Now she kind of knew one person here.

“I haven’t seen you around before.”

“This is not really my scene,” Y/n laughed as she grabbed a bottle of tequila. “I usually just keep to myself.”

“I feel it. This whole party was honestly my roommate's idea. I can’t escape if I wanted to,” Jisung laughed. “What’s your major?”

“I’m an art major, focusing on photography,” Y/n told him

“That’s cool! I’m a music major.”

It felt nice having someone to talk to here. Y/n began wondering what she was missing out on the last couple of years. She and Jisung talked for a few more moments till Jisung got dragged off and promised to come back in a few minutes. Y/n just nodded and sipped her drink. She stood off to the side, out of other people’s way. Waiting for her new friend to come back. She eventually started wandering through the party. Getting stopped and made some small talk with her classmates, making her way back to the kitchen for another drink when she finished hers. A couple more times throughout the night she talked to Jisung again and met a couple of his friends— Felix and Chan.

She rarely was ever drunk. She had a drink here and there. Had one or two when she went out with family members for dinner or something. Maybe it was the fact it did help ease her anxiety about the whole situation a bit. She felt more outgoing in the moment. Especially when she saw someone she had a small crush on.

Minho was popular— not that he wanted to be. He was very humble about his popularity. He was ninety percent sure it was because of his looks and maybe his skill as a dancer. All night— didn’t matter if he was talking with his friends or not— he’d been having drunk girls try and get at him. He was used to it but their level of intoxicity and their very outgoing way of trying to get him to bed was annoying him. He’d be happy if he could lock himself in his room for the night.

But here he was, talking with Changbin as yet another girl was approaching both of them. He could barely hear her over the music anyway but he mostly tuned out what he could. Telling his friend he was going to get another drink and then walking off. Not giving the drunk girl a chance to follow him.

Minho weaved his way through the crowd. Weaving between bodies since no one knew how to keep a path clear for others. Accidentally pumped a bit too hard into one girl as a guy took a step back into him.

“Sorry,” Minho said to the girl, having wrapped an arm around her so she didn’t fall. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah…” Y/n said, suddenly every bit of her introverted self coming out again.

“You sure?” Minho asked

“Yes. Sorry!” Y/n replied, face feeling hot as his arm fell from her side, “I’m—”

She couldn’t do much to introduce herself when Minho was already walking off. She sighed and sipped her drink. Maybe a couple more drinks and she could try again. Maybe she should just save herself the embarrassment and go home. She could tell he wasn’t in the mood even if she had a few drinks in her system.

“Why the sad face?” Jisung’s voice came from next to her. Scaring her a bit

“Party is starting to be too much,” Y/n replied

“Hang here. I’ll grab you some water,” Jisung told her.

“Thanks…” Y/n said as he went off to the kitchen after grabbing her cup of alcohol from her.

Y/n stood in her spot, waiting for her new friend to come back. Jisung came back after a few minutes and handed her a bottle of water, opening the cap for her and handing it to her.

“Want to get some air too? I know it’s hot in here.”

“Yes please,” Y/n said and sipped the cold water.

Jisung led her out to the front yard and sat with her on a couple of unoccupied chairs. The cold air felt good after being in a stuffy house for so long. “Better?”

“Yeah. Thank you,” Y/n smiled

“No problem. I know it can all be too much sometimes,” Jisung replied. “Do you want me to take you home?”

“No, I don’t want to bother you more. I can get home by myself. I live on campus anyways.”

“I’m not letting you walk back to campus this late!” Jisung protested, “Let me find one of my friends and let them know where I’m going.”

Before Y/n could say anything else, Jisung had already disappeared back into the house. She felt bad just getting up and leaving like she had originally planned. Instead, she patiently waited and sipped her water. Staying to get cold in the material of the costume.

Jisung came out of the house a few moments later. He helped her up and the two started walking down the street together. Y/n wrapped her arms around her to provide warmth from the autumn air.

“Are you cold?” Jisung asked

“I’ll be fine. It’s a short walk to the campus dormitory.”

“I should have grabbed a jacket when I went inside.”

“It’s fine. You walking me back is more than enough.”

The walk was mostly silent. The occasional talk about their classes and their day-to-day lives filled the night.

“Wait. You’ve been here for two years and haven’t made a single friend?” Jisung asked

“I didn’t have time to socialize. I honestly wasn’t planning to go to the party anyways…”

“Well, we’re friends now! Now you have one. Though I’m sure Felix considers you a friend. Even if you guys had one conversation tonight, he’ll still count it! And don’t you and Hyunjin in the art program together?”

“Yeah. I don’t really talk to people. I just do my work and if I'm in a group protection I'm still pretty quiet. Though I’m sure I’ve photographed everyone on campus at some point or another.”

“Ooh! You should show me your photos sometime! I want to see your work!” Jisung rambled

It felt nice to have somewhat of a friend now. Jisung made sure to walk her up to her dorm room and they two exchanged numbers as well before he started his walk back home and Y/n went into her dorm. She took a shower and put on her pajamas before crawling into bed.

Y/n carried on her day-to-day life after the Halloween party. Going to class, focusing on her assignments, and taking photos in the quad. Just now Jisung seemed to be popping up randomly.

“What are you taking photos of?” Jisung asked, sneaking up behind her

“Jesus!” Y/n half-yelled

“Sorry! Didn’t mean to scare you,” He apologized

“It’s fine. Just not used to it.”

“You didn’t answer my question.”

“Just taking photos. I like capturing the campus scenery.” Y/n shrugged

“Can I see?”

“Sure…” Y/n hadn’t shown anyone except her teachers her photos before.

Y/n opened her camera’s library and turned the screen to him. Jisung took the camera from her hands and scrolled through the photos.

“I’m not a professional and barely know the first thing about pro photography but these are great!” Jisung complimented

“Thanks,” Y/n smiled, feeling proud of her work at that moment

“Oh! You have some of the dance crew!”

“Yeah. I joined the school paper on a whim this year and they have me photographing sports…”

“That’s why Felix said he recognized you at the party. Oh, there he is!”

Jisung spent the next few moments trying to find all the photos she had taken of his friend in her camera. “You even got good photos of Minho.”

“You know Minho?”

“Yeah. We share a room at the house.”

Y/n’s eyes went wide for a moment as she processed the information. She had somehow befriended one of her crush’s friends, let alone his roommate. Jisung seemed oblivious to her reaction. He handed her camera back to her with a smile. “You should come to my music group’s next performance and take photos of us! I’m sure Chan and Changbin would love it too!”

“Yeah. Just let me know when,” Y/n smiled

“I’ll text you! I’ve got to run to class before I’m late!”

Jisung took off before she could do anything. She just agreed to whatever he said, not fully processing it. She shook her head and looked at the time. She was done with her classes for the day but wasn’t quite ready to go back to her dorm. She sighed and went to the library to study for some of her classes.

She sat quietly at one of the library tables. Textbooks open as she scanned through and wrote down the important information she needed for her class. Her headphones were in as she listened to her music. The background noise helping keep her focused on her work.

Minho was also stuck in the library. Working on some homework. Anything was better than doing said work at home with seven other people to interrupt his peace. The campus library had been his safe space since he started and decided to get a house with his seven friends. Now he was in his last year of college and could get away from all this soon.

He wasn’t getting away from Jisung though. Even in the quiet library, he wasn’t safe from his best friend.

“There you are,” Jisung quietly said and took a seat next to his friend.

“I need a better hiding spot,” Minho sarcastically told his friend

“You’re in a better mood.”

“I’m not getting hounded today.”

“Explains a lot.” Jisung shrugged and took out his homework

The two fell into silence until Jisung became a bit bored and poked his friend. It was soon stopped by a glare and a quick apology. The younger one laid his head on the table and then looked around the library. “Do you know Y/n?” Jisung suddenly asked

“Who?” Minho asked

“She’s in the school paper. She’s photographed the dance team. Figured you might have met her, Felix has.”

“Are you comparing me to Felix?” Minho asked

“No, but I was curious. She doesn’t have many friends. I invited her to the next 3RACHA performance.”

“You’re trying to get her more friends, aren’t you?”

“I’ve been the kid with no friends before so I kind of feel bad.”

“I remember when you were trying to fight everyone in the house for the smallest things.”

“I’m a changed man.”

“Because of Chan.”

Jisung didn’t disagree with him as Minho finished up his homework. Jisung had given up on finishing his and took out his phone. Replying to some text messages he had. Y/n was one of the people he had texted.

Jisung: 3Racha has a performance this weekend! It’s at Miroh!

Y/n looked at the text message on her screen. She figured out what Jisung was attempting to do since the Halloween party and claimed they were friends. She was grateful he was trying to break her out of her shell and she couldn’t exactly come up with an excuse either. She had also processed that he had asked her to photograph them at their performance earlier in the day. And she agreed to it.

Y/n: Where’s that at? :’( Jisung: You haven’t been to Miroh before?? Y/n: No. I don’t have friends and I’m terrified of going places by myself Jisung: How about I pick you up then? You can ride with me and my friends then hang out with them while I’m up on stage Y/n: Are you sure? I don’t want to intrude… Jisung: Yeah! The guys won’t mind. Oh! Since you’re in the library, come over and meet Minho! He’ll be there too so you won’t just have Felix when me, chan and changbin are on stage Y/n: How do you know I’m in the library?? Jisung: I came in to annoy Minho and try and do homework and saw you when I walked in. You had your headphones on so I didn’t say anything Y/n: oh

Y/n had finished her work and was just packing up when she saw the message from Jisung. She finished packing her things up when she looked around for Jisung. Seeing him standing at a table with Minho. After the party and her run-in with the dancer, she wasn’t hopeful it would go well. She could barely even think of just getting up and leaving when the music major spotted her and made his way over to her. His friend following not far behind

“Did you just finish?” Jisung asked her

“Yeah. Did you even work or just talk to people?”

“Bit of both,” Jisung shrugged as the dancer walked up behind him, “This is Minho. Min, this is Y/n.”

“Hi,” Y/n timidly said

“Hey,” Minho greeted back

Minho recognized her from the Halloween party. He had seen her in the dance studio with a camera a couple of times. He just never knew her name.

The trio walked out of the library together and Y/n said goodbye to the two and made her way back to her dorm hall. The two boys went off to head back to their home. Jisung filled in Minho that they were picking up Y/n and giving her a ride to Miroh over the weekend. The older man nodded in agreement.

When the day of the performance came Y/n offered to meet Jisung at his house so it was one less stop for the group. At first, Jisung protested on her walking down but she told him she was already on her way down. She was a bit nervous about the whole outing so the walk helped clear her head a bit. By the time she got to the house the group was outside already, Jisung introduced her to everyone she didn’t know yet before the group went back to their previous discussion of the car assignments, and how they were getting nine people there.

“Take three cars, three people in each car,” Chan said which the guys all seemed to agree with

It was decided Chan, Minho, and Hyunjin would drive/be DDs for the group. Seungmin and Changbin rode with Chan. Jeongin and Felix took Hyunjin’s car while Han and Y/n were with Minho. Y/n took the backseat of the car while Minho and Jisung were in the front. The bar was about a twenty-minute drive from the house. Y/n stayed pretty quiet in the back of the car while music played. The two friends in the front talked a little and tried including Y/n. She appreciated it and it helped her nerves a little till they finally got to the bar.

The group managed to find parking spots pretty close together and headed into the bar. The rap group still had some time before they had to perform. A few of the guys took orders and grabbed some drinks from the bar while the others found a couple of tables and pushed them together. Minho had pulled a seat out for Y/n and motioned for her to sit. Hesitantly she sat down with the rest of the group.

The performers themselves talked about their performance as the rest of the group came back with drinks. Making sure everyone got the right drink. Everyone settled in with their drinks and waited for the performance to start.

Y/n felt out of place amongst the friends, even when they did include her in the conversation. Her life just seemed boring compared to the others. They all had some interesting lives or things that were big going on with their majors. 3Racha was about to perform, the dance members— Minho, Felix, and Hyunjin (whom she learned only minored in the art program and was a dance major)— had some competitions for the school and outside of the school coming up. Seungmin— a law major— had won another debate and Jeongin— an education major— was going to be working at a daycare over the summer. Y/n felt like she had nothing going on. Just some photos no one would probably look at.

As soon as the boys were called to the stage, Y/n grabbed her camera from her bag and made sure all her settings were good. “Are you going up to the stage?” Minho asked next to her

“Yeah. If it’s not too crowded,” Y/n said

“Do you want me to go with you?” Minho questioned

“Oh! We should all go up!” Felix suggested

“They can feel our support from back here,” Seungmin interjected

“Then stay here,” Hyunjin said

Jeongin and Seungmin stayed at the tables while she, Felix, Minho, and Hyunjin went up to the stage. Felix and Hyunjin mainly went to be the hype men for their friends while Minho stayed close to Y/n so no one got in the way of the photos. Y/n felt more anxious with Minho standing close by. She had barely talked to him since his demeanor at the Halloween party.

She did her best not to let it get to her as she got her photos. She didn’t know what to expect from the music group. She had heard the name 3Racha before around campus but seeing them perform was a different scenario. She did enjoy the music and got some pretty good shots from the performance. She only saw how good they were when she sat back at the table after the show.

The group congratulated them on the show. Jisung asked to see the photos as soon as she sat down with them. Y/n let him go through them and show them around the table. She felt flustered when everyone gave her props for her work, even though it wasn’t edited yet.

The group stayed for a few more hours at the bar, enjoying the other performances and some drinks. They all ended up calling it a night. Minho and Jisung took Y/n back to the campus dorms before going back to their home

“What do you think of Y/n?” Jisung asked his roommate on the drive back

“I don’t think she likes me very much,” Minho answered

“You probably scare her.”

“You know, one day you might not wake up.”

Minho knew she was shy from what Jisung had told him and what he had observed. He knew he could be a little intimidating at times but he felt bad he had given her that impression.

Jisung on the other hand was curious. Pulling his phone from his pocket and texting his new friend.

Jisung: Do you like Minho? Y/n: What?? Jisung: Like as a friend. He thinks you’re scared of him Y/n: oh Yeah? Idk? Jisung: ?? Y/n: He bumped into me at the Halloween party before you got me water. He seemed kind of annoyed when I went to introduce myself so I didn’t think he liked me very much… Which I don’t expect him to. Ik he’s popular and there are more interesting people than me Jisung: oh, he was annoyed the whole party. I promise it wasn’t bc of you. If anything it was all the drunk girls trying to sleep with him Y/n: idk :( I had a few drinks too… maybe he just saw another drunk girl then… Jisung: you were not THAT drunk. You could still walk and form words lol Y/n: I still think he doesn’t like me very much Jisung: and he thinks you don’t like him very much Y/n: I don’t! He just makes me a bit nervous Jisung: oh, you like like min ;) Y/n: so does every girl on campus :( I’m not special

Jisung knew something would come about. If someone didn’t like Minho, he didn’t care much. So Jisung knew his friends' thoughts and feelings the moment he said that Y/n didn’t seem to like him very much. He didn’t that night plotting.

No matter how much plotting he did, he knew his friends were idiots. He’d do everything but lock them in a room together. He told the rest of the house about Y/n’s lack of friends and what he suspected was anxiety about making them but he wasn’t sure.

The group always offered to include her in things and sometimes she did accept the offers. Over time she started to feel like more of a friend to them and less of an intrusion. She still kept quiet about ninety percent of the time though.

She’d given 3Racha the photos she had taken, fully edited, and let them do what they wanted with them. Jisung told her a lot of people on campus loved the photos when they put them on their social media which gave her somewhat of an ego for a few moments.

Minho didn’t know exactly what Jisung was plotting but he did know his friend had been acting differently since the day after their performance. He could corner him and ask but he couldn’t complain too much now.

He’d refuse to admit it to anyone— except maybe Chan — but he was glad Jisung was bringing Y/n around more. He thought she was cute when his younger friend had officially introduced them in the library. He had barely spared her much of a glance at the party. Maybe if he did she wouldn’t be too scared of him. But now, after a few months, that dislike or whatever was disappearing.

He’d catch her around campus and go out of his way to say hi and ask her about her day. Minho appreciated that she didn’t try and flirt with him like the rest of the girls on campus. He could be himself.

Currently, he was in the school's quad with her. He spotted her looking at her camera and chose to keep her company.

“What are you taking photos of?” He asked as he walked up and took a seat next to her on the bench

Y/n offered him a smile, “Whatever interests me today.”

“So the usual?” he joked

“Pretty much.” Y/n agreed

Minho smiled as she got up and stepped a few feet away, spotting something to photograph. Minho took out his phone after a few moments and responded to a few messages he had disregarded earlier. Y/n was taking photos of some of the flowers that were planted. She turned around once she snapped a few and looked at Minho.

He seemed ignorant to her turning around and the sun was hitting all his angles perfectly. She focused her lens on him and snapped a couple of photos. Slowly Minho looked up at her, hearing the camera shutter as she took the photos.

“When did I become your model?” Minho asked as she pulled away from the viewfinder

“You’ve been my model before,” Y/n defended

“I don’t think I’m dancing right now,” Minho told her

“No, but it was a good photo opportunity.”

“Let me see.”

Y/n walked back to him and handed him the camera. Minho took the camera and looked through the photos she had taken of him before getting out of the photos and going back to the camera. He sat up, held up the viewfinder, and snapped a photo before Y/n realized what he was doing. Once she processed it while he snapped a few more, she moved to grab the camera from him.

“Hey!” Y/n said grabbing her camera.

Minho chuckled as she took her seat back next to him. “Let me see my work,” he said between laughs

“No,” Y/n said as she went to look over at the photos. Minho just looked over her shoulder before she could delete the photos.

“I did a good job,” Minho said. “You look good too. Very photographic.”

“Don’t lie,” Y/n grumbled as she deleted the photos and tried to hide her flushed face from him

“I’m not lying,” Minho told her. “You look good. In and out of the photos.”

Y/n hesitated to delete the last photo. Minho did take a good photo of her. She couldn’t deny that.

“What are you doing later?” Minho asked, watching her hesitate, and stopped looking over her shoulder.

“Probably nothing. Maybe homework,” Y/n answered and shut her camera off. Packing it up in her camera bag

“Do you want to get takeout and come over instead? I can kick Ji out.”

Y/n turned to look at him. Ninety-nine percent sure she was hallucinating what he just said. “Huh?” she asked

“Do you want to come over after you’re last class? Order food or I can cook,” Minho repeated

“I— just us?”

“I mean, I’m sure someone else will be at the house but ideally, yeah. Just us.”

“Like, like a date?” Y/n asked, scared but hopeful at the same time

“Yeah.”

“You’re asking me on a date?”

“Why wouldn’t I?”

“Because you’re out of my league?”

“You don’t give yourself enough credit,” Minho smirked, “Come over for dinner. I’ll kick the others out of the house.”

“O-okay,” Y/n agreed

“When’s your last class?”

“I don’t have any more classes. I have all morning classes.”

“Come on. We can go shopping for ingredients.” Minho stood and adjusted the bag on his shoulder

“I don’t want to make you cook,” Y/n closed up her bag and stood with him, gathering the rest of her things.

“I like cooking. Come on,” Minho said

Y/n walked with him to the parking lot. Minho opened the door for her before getting in his side of the car. The two drove down to the supermarket while Minho questioned her on what she wanted to eat.

She was wondering why Lee Minho would ask her out. Or offer to cook for her. Her brain seemed to just go into autopilot for responses. In the store, she stayed close to the dancer. She was trying to stay out of other people’s way and helping with grabbing ingredients. Even if he protested she didn’t need to. It was the least she could do.

When they checked out, Y/n felt more at ease as they drove back to the house. Minho had made sure to text his friends to either not corner them or not come home. They even seemed a bit shocked at this development but ultimately Chan offered to take the other six out for dinner which the younger ones graciously accepted.

“Do you want any help?” Y/n asked after they— mostly Minho— carried in their shopping bags from the car and set them on the counter.

“No. I got it covered,” Minho said and took his bag to his room. Y/n quietly sat at the bar and took out the homework she had planned to do.

Minho came back after a few moments to find her doing the work he took her away from. He smiled to himself as he got to work. Washing his hands and starting to cook. He would occasionally look over at her to check on her and ask her how her work was going.

Y/n was honestly barely focusing on her work— she’d done most of it earlier anyway. She was watching Minho cook. He seemed a natural in the kitchen. Moved with ease, just like he was dancing.

“How come you didn’t go to culinary school?” Y/n asked

“Dance is what I’m passionate about. Cooking is just something I like doing for my friends. Plus I’m good at it.”

“How good?” Y/n asked

“You’ll see,” Minho smiled back at her, “Finish your homework. You won’t graduate if you don’t.”

“I’ll be fine,” Y/n told him

“Homework.”

Y/n just rolled her eyes and turned back to her homework while he cooked. Both taking moments to watch the other one work. Y/n finished up her last boy off work and put away her things. Patiently waiting for Minho to finish, not knowing what to do now.

She just admired him working. He moved around the kitchen with ease, even when he plated the food. Y/n smiled as he set the food in front of her and thanked him. Minho smiled and sat down next to her at the bar. Y/n took a bite of the food and looked at him. “You should be a chef!” Y/n exclaimed

Minho just smiled as he started eating. Y/n enjoyed probably the best meal she had had since she left home for college. She felt more relaxed than ever around Minho. She had forgotten for a moment that this was technically a date. It just felt natural to hang out with him now. Even if he didn’t give her the best impression when they had first met. He was trying now even if he didn’t know at first.

Y/n did find it weird— being the best word she could use to describe the feeling— when one of the more popular guys that everyone seemed to like was with her during their free time. They weren’t official but they were together often. Whether it was by themselves or with the rest of their friends. The rest of Minho’s housemates all knew before they did things would be official eventually.

“Did I scare you when we first met?” Minho asked her as they were lying in her dorm bed, her roommate gone for the weekend.

“What do you mean?” Y/n asked

“You just seemed scared of me when Ji introduced us,” Minho explained

“You didn’t scare me,” Y/n said, cuddling into him. Winter was setting in now and he had become her personal heater. “Just when you bumped into me at the Halloween party you seemed annoyed when I tried talking to you…”

“That was you?” Minho asked

“Yeah…”

“I was annoyed that night but not because of you,” Minho told her, wrapping his arms around her tighter.

“I don’t blame you. I’m pretty boring…”

“No, you’re not.”

“I’m an art major Min. It’s not really a useful career. Sometimes I wonder why you talk to me or even ask me on dates to begin with.”

“Because I like being around you. You’re easy to be around and I like your creativity.”

“You don’t want someone more in your league? Prettier? Cooler?”

“You’re prettier and cooler than you give yourself credit for,” Minho told her and he pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “I’d be happy to call you my girlfriend.”

“Girlfriend?!” Y/n’s head shot up and looked at him

“Yeah. I want you to be my girlfriend.” Minho chuckled

Y/n’s face flushed. She had guessed it would eventually get to here but now that the words had left his lips she was at a loss for words.

“Cat got your tongue?”

Y/n nodded her head as Minho laughed. Resting his head on her forehead, “Is that a yes to being my girlfriend?”

“Yes,” Y/n quietly said.

Minho smiled and placed a peck on her lips. The kiss was too fast for Y/n. She watched her boyfriend’s reaction to him pulling away then pressed another kiss to her lips. Giving her time to return the affection.

Y/n moved her lips with his before he pulled away again. “You’re a good kisser kitten.”

“Kitten?”

“Yeah. My kitten.”

Minho wrapped his arms tightly around her and held her close to his chest. That’s how they stayed for the weekend. Cuddled up together and only pulled away to use the bathroom or get food. Y/n felt like she was on cloud nine with Minho. He walked her to her classes when he had the time and made her any food she asked for. Even when he joked and appeared he didn’t want to. He was always doing things for her. And Y/n never felt happier in the last month of them being together.

“Want to spend the night this weekend ?” Minho asked his girlfriend after walking her to her last class, “Ji’s going to his parent’s house for the weekend so I don’t have to kick him out.”

“The others won’t mind?” Y/n asked

“No. As long as you don’t mind the guys being obnoxiously loud while we’re locked in my room avoiding them,” Minho smiled

“Okay,” Y/n smiled back

“I’ll see you after class,” Minho told her and picked her lips.

Y/n watched her boyfriend walk down the hallway to his class and entered her own. Now, a little too excited for her class to end. She was ready to bolt out of her class as they were dismissed. She tried giving her boyfriend time to get back to her classroom but she still managed to get out before him.

She waited outside her class for him. Leaning against the wall till he snuck up to her and wrapped his kissed her forehead. Y/n looked at her boyfriend, “Hi.”

“Hey. How was class?” He asked as he took her hand. Heading to her dorm so she could grab a few things before heading down to the house.

Minho sat in her desk chair while she packed a small bag, looking at her photos on her wall. A thought crossed his mind as he picked up her smaller digital camera.

“What are you doing?” Y/n asked

Minho smiled at her and took a quick photo of her packing her bag. Y/n looked over at him as she heard the shutter click. “Min.”

“I didn’t do it,” Minho told her and took another photo of her.

“I’m never going to win with you, am I?”

“No.”

Y/n shook her head and finished packing her bag. Having to drag her boyfriend from her dorm and to the car. Minho put her things in the backseat and then drove them to his home. Some of the guys were home when they arrived. Y/n said hi to them as Minho pulled her up the stairs to his room. Y/n set her bag down at the foot of his bed as the dancer sat on his bed, pulling her to him and laying back with her.

“Hungry at all?” Minho asked

“No. My boyfriend keeps me nice and full,” Y/n told him as she wrapped her arms around him. Minho smiled and turned on the TV he and Jisung had in their room. Turning on a show the two had talked about watching, casually laying in the bed till Jisung came in to grab something.

“Oh good, you guys aren’t doing anything weird,” Jisung teased as he opened the door

Y/n hid her face in her boyfriend’s chest as Minho glared at his roommate. Y/n focused on the TV as Jisung packed a bag and then said goodbye to the couple, shutting the door behind him.

“Embarrassed kitten?” Minho asked

“A little. What if Ji did walk in while we were doing something? Not that we have done anything but…”

“If we were I would have locked the door. I wouldn’t put you in that position. Have you thought about going further?” Minho explained

“Yeah…”

Minho sat up with her, in a better position to have a more serious conversation. Y/n felt shy about the topic of sex. She didn’t have much experience and she only guessed Minho had more than her. “Look at me, babe?” Minho asked

Y/n hesitantly made eye contact with him for the duration of their conversation. The couple spent maybe an hour talking about their history— she was right about Minho having more experience than her— and protection. Minho made sure Y/n felt completely comfortable as they talked about the next steps in their relationship. Only having gone as far as a few heated make-out sessions. Minho never rushed her with anything which just made her fall for him more.

Maybe that comfort was how the bedroom door ended up locked and Minho was gripping her ass over her jeans while she was sitting on his lap, both their tongues fighting for dominance. Both of them moaned as Y/n gripped the hair at the nape of his neck. Minho used his grip on her backside to pull her closer to him, almost tipping them back on the bed. The dancer chuckled when she made a surprised noise before pulling away and attaching his lips to her neck.

“Min,” Y/n breathed out, fingers dragging up into his hair more.

“Look so good on my lap kitten,” Minho said as his lips roamed all over her neck, biting a couple of patches of skin lightly

Y/n bucked her hips against him when he did nibble on her skin. The slight pinch shot straight to her core. The roll of her hold made the male below her groan and she could feel something poking her from below.

Seconds later Minho had her on her back and kissed down her body. His hands moved to take hold of the low waistband of her jeans. “Can I?” Minho asked

“Please,” Y/n said, lifting her hips for him

Minho smiled and unbuttoned her pants, pulling the fabric down and tossing it to the side. Y/n pressed her thighs together, suddenly a little embarrassed being half-naked in front of him. Minho noticed and placed a kiss on each of her thighs and her hips, gently pulling her legs apart before settling between them. Y/n watched as he put her legs over his shoulders and pressed a few kisses to her clothed core. Y/n bit her bottom lip as she watched her boyfriend kiss and lick her through the fabric before he pulled away and pulled the fabric off her legs, tossing them to the floor with her bottoms.

Minho readjusted them, grabbing her hands and intertwining their fingers. “Anyone ever take care of you, kitten?”

“No…” Y/n admitted as he pressed a kiss to her clit

Minho hummed then licked a stripe from her entrance to her clit, wrapping his lips around the bud. Y/n moaned as he sucked on the little bud. She gripped his hands as he switched between sucking on her clit and licking the bud with his tongue. Y/n gasped when she felt his tongue dip into her, back arching off his mattress as he moved the muscle in and out of her.

His hands left her and grabbed the tops of her thighs. Holding her legs over his shoulders as he ate her out. Y/n grabbed a handful of his hair with one hand, making him moan into her. Y/n had to cover her mouth so none of the others would hear her. It got harder to hide them as the knot in her stomach kept tightening and tightening until it snapped.

The photographer gasped as her hips rocked against his face. Minho held her against him as he helped her through the high. Not stopping till he had her cleaned up and her grip on his hair loosened. He pulled away, put her legs back on the bed, and sat up on his knees. Wrong off any excess liquid with the back of his hand.

Y/n caught her breath again as Minho threw off his t-shirt letting it join her bottoms on the ground. Y/n took in the sight up his upper torso, just by his arms she knew her boyfriend was toned but seeing his chest and abs, whew.

“What you staring at kitten?” Minho teased as he crawled over her, caging her in with his arms.

“My hot boyfriend,” Y/n responded as she ran her fingers down his front and hooked them around his belt.

“Not so shy anymore,” Minho smiled as he leaned down to kiss her neck again.

Y/n hummed as she undid his belt, pulling it from its loops and then unbuttoning his jeans. Meanwhile, Minho used one hand to push her shirt up. The two worked as best they could undressing each other. Once they finally got the rest of their clothes off and onto the floor, Y/n wrapped her hand around his cock. Minho moaned as she slowly stroked him, one hand of his having taken hold of her breasts. Groping the flesh as his lips worked their way down to the other.

Minho wasn’t trying to hide his moans like Y/n was. He’d heard all his friends before and he was sure they had heard him before so none of it mattered to him. But knowing his girlfriend, he tried not to be too loud and embarrass her. Not that any of the guys would tease them if they knew what was good for them.

His hand that was on her boob moved down and his thumb ran over her sensitive clit. His head came up from her chest just in time to see her tilt her head back in pleasure. Minho leaned into her neck and kissed the skin, making sure to leave his mark on her. Y/n moaned as he sucked on her skin while he circled her clit. Their stroke paces fell in sync, one would pick up their speed and then the other would follow suit.

Y/n managed to pull his lips from her neck up to her mouth. Kissing him to drown out her moans as her hips rocked against his hand. Minho matched her strokes with his hips. Thrusting into her hand as his orgasm approached. Her grip tightened as her second high approached her, taking over her body seconds later. Minho thrusted into her hand as he worked her through her high. His cum shot onto her lower stomach as she came down from her second high.

“Sorry,” Mino apologized as he came down from his orgasm

“‘S okay,” Y/n told him. “It was hot.”

Minho hummed as he sat up, looking down at her. “You look good with my cum on you.”

“Should take a picture,” Y/n said

“Want me to?” Minho questioned

“Camera’s in my bag.”

Minho moved and grabbed her bag from the foot of his bed, quickly finding her camera and getting back in his position. Her legs rested over his thighs as he pointed the camera lens down at her stomach. Catching her wet cunt as well and his dick laying between her legs. Y/n watched the flash go off before he pulled the camera away from his face. Minho leaned down and pecked her lips.

“Want to keep going, kitten?” Minho asked

“Yes,” Y/n answered. “Can I… ride you?” She asked as he leaned over to his bedside table and grabbed a condom.

“My kitty wants to ride me?” He teased as he closed the drawer.

“Please…”

Minho didn’t say anything before flipping their position. He placed her on his lower stomach and handed her the condom. Y/n took the foil from his hand and sat up on her knees. She scooted back a bit as she opened the wrapper and took out the rubber. Y/n jerked her boyfriend’s dick again until he was erect again, then slid on the rubber.

Minho held her hips as she positioned herself above him. She kept his cock steady till the tip was inside her. Moaning as she placed her hands on his waist while she sank onto him. The dancer helped her ease down onto him. He gave her a second once he was fully inside her, keeping a hold on her hips. Y/n sat up straight and held her boyfriend’s wrists and looked down at him. She noticed the light layer of sweat that was covering his body. She found her camera on the bed and held it up to her face.

She snapped a photo of her boyfriend. Minho smiled before taking the camera from her hands. Y/n clenched around her boyfriend as he pointed the camera at her. Minho snapped a photo as she started rolling her hips back and forth. Her hands pressed to his chest to stabilize herself.

Minho took a couple of photos of her and then put the camera to the side again. The dancer planted his feet on the bed and held her hips, slowly starting to bounce her on him. Y/n used her position to lift herself so her boyfriend wasn’t doing all the work.

Minho’s hands moved back and gripped her ass as she rode him. Tilting his head back in pleasure as her walls pulsed around him. Y/n took the chance to lay on his chest and suck her own marks onto his skin. Minho happily let her do so as he lifted his hips and started thrusting into her.

Y/n moaned against his skin as he thrusted into her. Accidently biting down a little harder on his neck when his tip found the spongy spot inside her and hit it dead on.

“Fuck,” Minho moaned, wrapping his arms around her and holding her down on his chest

“Sorry,” Y/n mumbled as she kissed the spot

“Don’t. Felt good,” Minho told her as his pace picked up

Y/n moaned as he aimed for the spot again. Hiding away in her boyfriend's neck as her walls clenched around him. She tried rolling her hips to keep up with his pace but she was far slower than him, though she still tried.

The knot was tightening far too quickly in her stomach this time. Each thrust felt like the next would make her cum again. She did her best to hold out but she couldn’t. Her walls spasmed around Minho’s cock. The dance held onto her as her body shook on top of him. Fucking her through the high before his took over. Burying himself into her and letting his cum fill up the rubber.

“Fuck,” both groaned as they caught their breaths

Y/n sat up and looked at her boyfriend's neck. Not realizing how many marks she had left on him — she could only imagine what hers looked like. She ran her thumb over the front of his neck before grabbing her camera again and taking a photo.

Minho chuckled at her before helping her off his cock and laying her on the bed. Y/n smiled as she watched him toss the condom then put on his boxers and leave the room. She looked over three photos they had taken before he came back with a washcloth and cleaned her up.

“Everyone’s in their rooms, wanna go take a shower?” Minho asked

“Yes please,” Y/n agreed.

☾ ━━━━━━ M.LIST TIP JAR

☾ ━━━ please support writers by reblogging and/or leaving feedback

#☾━━━━ [𝐊𝐀𝐑𝐌𝐀 𝐖𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐄𝐒]#stray kids #stray kids x reader #skz x reader #stray kids x reader smut #skz x reader smut #skz smut #stray kids smut #lee know x reader smut #lee know smut #lee know x reader #lee minho x reader #lee minho smut #lee minho x reader smut

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callsignrooroo · 5 months ago

Text

You Never Left Me

A/N: Eeee! Here it is y’all! So excited to for this be out there. This was my first time writing straight smut, so I hope I did it justice!

Minors and ageless blogs do not interact!

A big thank you to @hederasgarden for being my beta for a large portion of this fic!

Word Count: 3.7K

Warnings: Parent loss, p in v sex, AFAB reader, mentioned birth control, unsafe sex (don’t be silly, wrap your willy), dirty talk. I think that’s it, if anyone sees anything else please feel to dm me!

Coming back home always felt heavy. It had been five long years since you lost everything you knew, including your parents, to a tornado that happened faster than you could blink. Five long years since the last time you saw your one that got away– Tyler Owens.

Blinking dust out of your eyes, you jumped out of your truck. You were right down the road from the motel where you were staying and had stopped to get some snacks for the morning. You had to be at the bank first thing and knew you wouldn't have time for breakfast. Just as you were walking up to the gas station door, it burst open and before you could get out of the way, you knocked into two figures.

“Lily, you dumbass, I told you to slow down,” Boone snapped.

“Oh shut it, it’s not like you are in any less rush, you're just as much a sucker for Tyler's cooking as the rest of us,” Lily grumbled.

All three of you stopped in your tracks as you made eye contact.

“Shit”, you said.

“Shit,” Lily and Boone echoed simultaneously.

You heard someone grumble from behind your two friends, and you quickly stepped out of the way, pulling them both with you.

“So, uh, I thought you guys were in Enid,” you said awkwardly.

Boone started sputtering and Lily cut him off. “Boone, you're going to catch flies. And, you, after five years of not seeing each other in person, that’s all you have to say,” she exclaimed.

You cast your eyes downward.

Boone, however, finally seemed to get his tongue in working order. “Does Tyler know you're here?” he questioned.

Your eyes snapped back up at the mention of his name. “No,” you emphasized.

Boone got a distinct look of disapproval on his face, and Lily looked at you like she knew something you didn’t.

“Oh, this is going to end well,” Boone said sarcastically, rolling his eyes.

Lily shoved him and he huffed. “You have to tell him,” she said, her eyes on yours.

This was precisely what you were afraid of and exactly why you planned your trip around their posted schedule on YouTube. You weren’t sure you'd ever be ready to deal with him, not after you left. “No, I don’t. I’m leaving in two days, and as much as I wish I could stay,”

Boone scoffed, and Lily shoved him again,

“I have work to get back to,” you explained.

Lily crossed her arms and her expression shifted to hard determination. “If you don’t tell him, I will,” she stated simply. You blinked hard, and even Boone looked surprised by her boldness.

“Lily, please, nothing good will come out of this,” you begged.

The black-haired girl shook her head. “I mean it, he deserves to know,” she said seriously.

You felt tears prick your eyes. “Lily, please, I can't do this now, it’s been too long,” you pleaded.

Her dark eyes softened and she reached for your hand. “Trust me, he needs to know,” she assured. Your eyes flicked to Boone’s and you could tell he agreed.

“Fine, I’ll tell him,” you relented.

“You promise,” she questioned, eyebrows raised.

“I promise.”

She smiled brightly and pulled you into a hug. “Good. Text me before your flight and we can all get breakfast before you leave,” she chirped.

You glanced at Boone, and before you could open your mouth, he hugged you and squeezed you tight. “You better text us,” he said into your hair.

You smiled. “I promise.”.

Lily looked at her phone and cursed. “Shit, we have to go, Tyler needed the milk to finish the food.” Boone rolled his eyes and grabbed the keys from her.

You shook your head as you walked into the gas station.

Later that night, you stared at Tyler’s contact photo. It was an old one, a picture of him right off a bull, smiling wide, before his injury. You watched the blinking cursor, waiting for some grand thought to strike you on how to tell him you were home. Eventually, you sighed and turned the lamp off.

You closed your eyes as you leaned against your motel door. The morning had been long, and all you wanted to do was sleep. The bankers had been patient with you when they explained where the money in the found account had come from. You were thankful they didn't make things awkward when you started to cry when they explained the money was from a fund your parents set up as a child. You were wiped emotionally, but you knew if you didn't keep your promise to Lily, she would tell Tyler you were in town herself, and you knew that wasn't the right way for him to find out.

Your phone dinged, and you glanced at it.

From: Lillypad :): We all just left, now’s your chance babes :*

A second later, another text came through.

From: Booney: he never stopped

You blinked as you stared at the text. Never stopped what? Caring? Missing you the same primal way you missed him? Hating you for leaving him behind after flying out of town like a bat out of hell? You weren't sure, but you knew it was time to find out.

You slipped out of the dress you wore to the bank and slipped into a tank top, your favorite pair of jeans, and your worn boots. It was now or never.

To: Lilypad :): He’s still at his mama’s house?

From: Lilypad :): Like he’d ever leave

You felt your heart rate increase as the house came into view. You had so many memories of this place. Memories of the four of you piled up in the living room as kids, memories of you and Tyler sitting on the roof talking about going to college, memories of hugging him as he sobbed when his mama died, and then him holding you in his strong arms after your parents funeral. You shook your head to clear your thoughts, but the one you never stopped thinking of popped into your head instead.

The last memory you had of Tyler and this house was five years ago, on the day you left for Texas, and how you swore you saw tears in his green eyes as you drove away from the porch you had both sat on together so many times. You glanced in the visor mirror and realized your eyes were damp. You swiped at them before stepping out of your truck. When Tyler didn't immediately materialize on the front porch, you realized he must be at the back of the house on the sun porch. You took one last deep breath before taking your boots off at the door. You walked in, and a wave of nostalgia hit you as you spotted the magazines by the kitchen sink. You slowly crept through the house, memory after memory hitting you, until you reached the doorway of the sunroom.

The second your eyes landed on him, it felt like a piece of your heart clicked back into place, and you knew you were exactly where you were meant to be. Thoughts of Texas were forgotten, and you just took him in. He looked good, even better than you remembered. He had a pencil in his mouth, and his brows were creased as he stared at his computer. You stood there and just took in the sight of him until eventually, he looked up.

He blinked several times before getting to his feet. He stood there for several long moments before crossing the room in a few quick steps to stand in front of you. He went to reach for you and then stopped himself. “Are you real?” he whispered into the silence.

“Hi Tyer,” you murmured. The second his name left your lips, he was pulling you into a crushing hug. You immediately relaxed into his arms, overwhelmed by the feeling of his solid chest against yours and the smell of him; fresh laundry, wind, and something that was so intrinsically Tyler, you could never pinpoint it.

“You’re here,” he breathed into your hair.

You nodded as best as you could pressed so close. “I’m home,” you said, voice laced with double meaning.

“How? Why? Hey, look at me,” he said gently when you looked down at your feet.

He hooked his thumb on your chin and brought your head up so you could look up into his eyes. “The bank,” you explained lowly. He gazed into your eyes, patiently waiting. “The bank found an account, and I had to come sign for it,” you told him.

“Your parents?” he questioned softly.

When you didn't answer, he just continued staring into your eyes. He moved closer to you and caressed his thumb over your cheek. “You are one of the strongest people I know,” he said, voice laced with awe.

You shook your head, temporarily dislodging his fingers from your face. “I’m not,” you uttered.

He brought his other hand up to your face and cradled your face. “You are,” he admired.

You felt moisture gather in your eyes. “How can you say that, I left,” you sniffed.

He shook his head and brushed a thumb over your cheekbone. “But you came back,” he muttered. The to me went without saying.

“Tyler,” you said softly, letting yourself trail off.

“You came back,” he emphasized.

“I wasn’t going to,” you whispered.

You felt him flinch. “I wasn’t going to say anything to anyone, and I thought y’all were in Enid wrangling tornados, but then I saw Lily and Boone, and then Lily said if I didn’t tell you, she’d tell you herself, and I knew that wasn’t the right way to find out, so I came here to see you,” you said in a rush.

He glanced away from you, your face still in his hands, before looking back down at you, and you could see the moisture in his eyes.

“You weren’t going to tell me you were home?” he asked.

You couldn’t bear to look at the heartbreak in his green eyes, so you broke out of his embrace and sat on the worn sofa in front of the window. “I didn’t know how and wasn’t sure if you still…” you trailed off again.

He gingerly sat near to you, close enough that your thighs were touching. “If I still what, sweetheart?” he asked as he leaned closer.

You shrugged, and you both sat in silence for a few moments. “Boone said you never stopped,” you said quietly.

He moved even closer, tugging your legs so they lay over his lap. “Did he elaborate?” he pressed.

You shook your head and looked back into his eyes. Just then, you saw all of him. The softness he held for you, how he was letting himself be vulnerable, and the love he felt for you all shining through his eyes.

“He didn’t have to,” you admitted.

“Darlin, I know you know,” he said. “All those nights we watched the sky, and all the days spent in this very room, you have to know,” he said.

You squeezed your eyes shut before opening them again and leaning closer so your foreheads were touching, leaving you practically sitting in his lap. “Of course I did, I’ve always known Tyler since we were kids,” you said emphatically. He let out a shuddery breath but you continued. “But then I lost everything, and it felt like everything changed, and I had to get out, to get away from the grief. I know now, I left you but you never left me.” You had tears running down your face, but Tyler wiped them away with his thumb.

“Can I kiss you?” he questioned, his lips millimeters from yours.

Instead of replying, you leaned forward to close the minuscule gap. He groaned into your mouth and you wrapped your arms around his neck. When the two of you had to part for air, Tyler immediately ducked down to suck on your neck.

“Tyler, the marks,” you said weakly.

“Yeah baby, I bet you’re gonna wear them like a trophy,” he hummed against your throat. You moaned and pulled him back up to your lips by his hair, and he groaned into your mouth. “That’s it, sweetheart, let me hear you,” he mumbled. You moaned again when he gently bit your lip, his tongue quickly coming behind to soothe it. “Tell me this is okay; tell me I can show you how much I’ve always loved you,” he begged.

“Show me, please. Show me, Ty,” you said softly.

He went back to your neck, peppering you with small kisses and intermittent sucks.

“Tyler, I need more,” you whined.

“More,” he wondered.

“Please Tyler, don't tease,” you begged, tugging at his hair. He shifted you so you were straddling his sweatpant-clad thigh, and smirked when you moaned at the friction.

“Fuck,” you whimpered.

“Is that what you needed darlin’?” he teased.

You bit your lip and brought your hand down to cup him through his sweatpants and he groaned, his forehead coming to rest against yours.

“Is that what you needed, darlin’?” you parroted, eyebrow raised.

“Oh you little-,” he cut himself off by rolling you both over so you were caged underneath him, quickly adjusting so his knee was connected to your core.

“Sweetheart, I’ve waited too damn long for this for us to tease each other,” he confessed as he kissed down your neck.

“Why don’t you do something about it then cowboy?” you asked, smirking.

“There’s that fire,” he chuckled. He sat up on his legs, pulling you with him, and in one fluid motion, he had your tank top on the floor. He attached his lips to your newly revealed collarbone, one-handedly unlipped your bra, and added that to the quickly growing pile of clothes. You kicked your boots off and turned back to find him staring.

You shivered under his stare. “Your turn cowboy,” you told him, tugging on his shirt.

In one move his shirt was on the ground, and he was pressed up against your bare chest.

“Kiss me, please Tyler,” you pled.

He kissed both of your cheeks before capturing your lips in a passionate kiss. You moaned as you pressed down against his thigh harder, slowly starting to grind yourself down. A second later he was kissing his way down your chest, stopping to circle his tongue against your left nipple, and then the right one, before going back to suck the left one into his mouth.

You moaned in pleasure and your hand shot up to grip his hair, causing him to moan against your skin. “Fuck,” you cursed, arching your back as he gently bit down. He crept lower, kissing along your stomach as he went. He kissed along the edge of your jeans and raised a hand to undo the button. He let his head fall back down and leaned in, slowly bringing down the zipper with his teeth.

“Tyler, holy fuck,” you groaned. You could practically feel his smirk against your thigh.

“Yeah? I thought you might like that,” he chuckled.

He peeled your jeans off and then stood up. When you looked at him with confusion, his smoldering eyes softened. “Sweetheart, as long as I've waited for this, you can bet that sweet ass of yours that the first time I get inside you will not be on a couch.

You giggled as he pulled you up into his arms, your legs automatically wrapping around his muscular hips. You buried your face in his neck as he carried you the short distance to his room, sucking and biting your marks into his perfect skin.

You whimpered at the loss of contact as he lowered you to the bed. He kissed you softly, and you sighed happily as his tongue brushed against yours. He brushed his hands over your shoulders, down your arms, and to your stomach. He rubbed your clit through your panties, and you arched into his touch. “How long has it been, sweetheart,” he questioned with a kiss to your hip bone.

“Too long,” you panted.

A moan broke out of your throat when he sunk his teeth into the meat of your thigh.

“Tyler, please, I need you,” you begged brokenly. He hummed again as he hooked his fingers on the sides of your panties, slowly peeling them down your legs, leaving wet kisses as he went.

“Fuck honey, look at you,” he said in awe. “Prettiest pussy I’ve ever seen,” he said.

You groaned and threw an arm over your red cheeks.

“Nuh huh,” Tyler admonished. “Let me see all of you. I’ve waited so long for this, sweet girl,” he said as he slid his fingers over your slicked entrance.

“Shit, Ty,” you breathed.

“There we go,” he said, his eyes alight, “let me hear you.”

He dipped his middle finger inside you, gathering your wetness, before he got down on his stomach. He slid his finger in and out, his mouth just a breath away from where you needed him the most.

“I thought you said no teasing,” you whined as you moved to tug him where you needed him. Before you could, he licked a stripe right through your core. “Fuck,” you yelped.

He didn't say another word, just clamped his large hands around your thighs and licked at you like a man starved.

“Ty, Ty, Ty,” you chanted.

He mumbled something against you, and you groaned at the vibrations.

He pulled away just long enough to suck in a deep breath and murmur, “Sweetest pussy I’ve ever tasted.” before attaching his lips to your clit. He eased a finger inside of you, and then moments later, he added another.

“Ty, fuck, please, I'm ready, I need you,” you sobbed. He withdrew his fingers and crawled back up to pull you in for a kiss.

You both simultaneously groaned at the taste of you on your tongues.

He pressed himself against your dripping core, and you gasped into his mouth. Even through his sweatpants, you could tell he was big.

“Darlin’,” he started, hissing when you pushed your hips down onto him, “I want this just as bad, but I’ll let you know when you can take me,” he finished.

You ground down on him again, and he hissed through his teeth. “Tyler Owens, if you don't finish what you started in the next five seconds, I'm going to leave and finish it myself,” you threatened. You both knew it was an empty threat; you wanted each other too badly and had waited too long to call it quits now, but the empty threat seemed to put him into overdrive. He peeled his sweatpants off and went back down to suck at your clit.

“How about this honey? Give me one, and I’ll fill you up like you need,” he bargained. Before you could respond, he was face-first into your pussy, two fingers curling just right.

“Fuck,” you screamed.

He pulled away to watch your face, his fingers never stopping. “That’s it, darlin’, come for me, come for me, and I’ll give you my cock,” he crooned at you.

Your arm shot out, and your nails dug into his bicep as you screamed out your orgasm. Before the after-shocks even subsided, Tyler was kissing you hard as he lined himself up with your entrance.

You both groaned when he finally sunk into you. “Fuck darlin’, if you keep squeezin’ me like that, this is going to be over faster than we both want,” he cursed from above you.

“Fuck Ty, I can't help it,” you whined. It didn't take long for you to adjust, and before you knew it, you were begging again. “Ty, move,” you begged. He started slow, building up a rhythm, and before long, he was letting out small groans in time to his thrusts.

The two of you fell into a breathless rhythm of give-and-take, sweat shining on Tyler's temple and your hair like a halo around your head.

On a specific stroke, your eyes rolled back into your head. You shouted and dug your heels into his back. “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you squealed.

“Yeah, right there, honey. Did I find your sweet spot,” he crooned.

You clenched down, and he cursed. “Don't stop, Ty,” you cried. Your whole body felt lit up from the inside out.

He pulled almost all the way out and swiftly pushed back in. Your bodies moved in tandem, a give and take until all you could do was grip his sweat-slicked bicep and hold on.

“Fuck, I'm close, sweetheart. Give me one more, one more. Let me see you come undone for me,” he moaned.

He reached down to rub your clit, and your back arched, your whole body like a live wire.

“Fuck, fuck, where,” he stammered.

“Inside, fuck Tyler, please, give it to me. I’ve got an implant. Give it to me, baby,” you chanted.

He groaned and fell forward to rest his head on your shoulder as he came. You both lay there for several moments, breathing harshly into each other's ears.

Eventually, Tyler pulled you close and gently pulled out, shushing you gently as you whined. “I’ll be right back, darlin’,” he told you. You smiled to yourself and sunk deeper into the mattress. A second later, Tyler exited the in-suite bathroom and gently wiped you off with a warm washcloth. When he was done, he threw it in the hamper, crawled behind you, and spooned you close. He kissed your head and sighed in contentment. You both lay there in silence for a while, soaking up each other's warmth and drawing random patterns onto each other’s skin.

After a while, you pipped up. “I have to go back to Texas.” Tyler’s whole body tensed, but before he could say anything, you rolled over to face him and silenced him with a kiss. “I have a job to quit and a lease to break,” you told him gently, smiling.

He grinned at you. “I think I know a place you can stay at so last minute,” he told you before leaning in for a kiss.

#tyler owens #tyler owens x reader #tyler owens x you #tyler owens smut #twisters #twisters 2024 #my writing

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eddiessluttywaist · 2 years ago

Text

as if

AGELESS/BLANK/UNDER 18 BLOGS ARE NOT WELCOME TO INTERACT. PLEASE RESPECT MY RULES AND BOUNDARIES.

summary: eddie taunts reader daily, but… she kinda likes it? just never does anything about it. not until she has to tutor him, anyway.

pairing: bully!mean!perv!eddie munson x perv!fem reader

word count: 7,901 words

content/warnings: swearing, some angst at the beginning kinda, mention of death (barb), SMUT MDNI (y/n is 18), bully!eddie, mean!eddie, perv!eddie, bully kink (?), dominating, arguing, breeding kink, hate sex, brief masturbation mentions, mocking, teasing, anxiety kinda, spitting, invasion of privacy (eddie goes through her things), eddie’s a dirty lil pantie stealer and sniffer, y/n is a c*m sl*t, bulge kink(?), dacryphilia, groping, choking, daddy kink if you squint real hard, mentions of virginity (y/n is not a virgin), pet names (doll face, princess), degradation (use of slut). i think that’s all pls tell me if i miss anything!

a/n: i have to say tbh i don’t see eddie ever being a bully so this is technically like an au!eddie?…but also… uhhhh very hot. makes my brain wiggle with heat waves so here we are. hope you like it! <3

part two - part three

As if.

It’s a simple statement, really, and you meant no harm when you said it. It was just something to be said… that didn’t mean he didn’t hear it though.

That also didn’t mean it didn’t tick him off.

You were surprisingly pretty to be in the geek group, but in the cruel and tyrannical world of high school girls..? Alas, no amount of lip gloss or cute skirts could free you of the fact that you were smart. Not only smart, but a geek. A nerd—who was shy around most—and you got along with nearly all of the teachers because of how well-behaved and intelligent you were. And, on occasion—although you always tried your best to not come off this way—a bit of a know-it-all.

That was the final nail in your coffin, really. Correcting Carol Perkins in American History in front of everyone back in your freshman year. (Her sophomore year and already irritable about having to take a freshman course 2 years in a row). You meant well, but she had it out for you ever since. The tyrant, as it was, made it entirely impossible for you to make your way up the food chain.

So in your sophomore year of high school, back in Autumn of ‘83, you were among the peasants just like him—even as a senior (for the first time). He took a quiet interest in you. You were cute and soft-spoken. You were a sophomore, though, and the fact that you were 15 at the time made the 17 year old scrunch up his nose whenever he remembered. He could still look, though, right? There was no harm in that…

Nancy and Barb took notice of it all pretty quickly. The way that the senior would scan over your outfits everyday. The way that he might’ve smirked a little if you had to bend over to pick something up, simply staring at your behind rather than coming over to get your things for you. The pair would exchange glances that you were adorably unaware of, over his attention that you were also so endearingly oblivious to. One day, they finally burst over it in the hallway, and he overheard.

“I think a senior likes you.” Nancy teased, gripping her Geometry textbook to her chest.

“What?” You had let out a slight laugh, digging through you locker. “What makes you say that?”

“Oh my god, seriously?” Barb interjected. “Aren’t you supposed to be smart? Observant?”

You were all wide-eyed over that, pouty lips opening and then closing as you struggled to find your words before finally landing on a frustrated huff and a simple “Shut up.”

“He stares at you all the time.” Nancy pushed with a teasing smile.

“Like you can talk.” You teased, slamming your locker shut before resting your back against it. “Steve ‘The Hair’ Harrington is totally all over you.” You smirked at the way her face instantly heated up.

“I- He- It’s not like that.” She insisted, completely flustered. And while Barb agreed with you, she wasn’t interested in letting you direct the conversation elsewhere.

“Besides he’s just a Junior. The guy who likes you is a Senior.” Nancy tacked on.

“Like there’s really that big of a difference?” You raised a brow.

“There is.” Barb scoffs.

“Well then if it’s such a huge deal… can’t you just tell me who it is?”

“You seriously don’t know?” Barb questioned and the ginger-brunette pair tilted their heads while they looked at you with a sort of exasperated disbelief. You just gave them that wide eyed look again and shrugged your shoulders.

Barb broke first with a scoff and a bright smile. “Eddie Munson. He stares at you all the time.”

Eddie Munson. He wasn’t popular by any means, but he was still a Senior. He was still attractive to you, and could still make an underclassmen blush if he gave them any attention simply because he was older and a little dangerous. He just didn’t show any interest in any of the other younger students, just a little curiosity towards you.

“Eddie Munson?” You had laughed a little, which made him furrow his brows as he listened in just around the corner of the hall at his own locker. You were being dismissive out of nerves, not out of any sort of malicious intent, but that’s not how he took your tone. After all, he was a cynical man.

“As if.”

After that he was a bit bitter towards you. Then he was a little mean. And then he was just plain cruel. He was an asshole. He was a bully.

Since his interest being pointed out to you, you occasionally glanced over at him to see if he really was staring. But he either acted like you didn’t exist, or whenever his gaze did meet yours the corners of his lips turned down and his brow frowned with disgust before looking elsewhere.

When Barb went missing, you and Nancy were temporarily joined at the hip in your efforts to figure out what happened. Then one day Nancy went cold on you. Started making excuses and hardly speaking to you otherwise. You didn’t understand, finding yourself completely alone as you scattered “Missing Person” posters all over Hawkins.

You had no idea what happened with Barb at the time and still had no clue what happened with your friendship with Nance to this very day. Maybe the loss was too much. Maybe Nancy couldn’t handle the reminder of your perfect trio. She was always closer to Barb than you. Maybe Barb missing and then turning up dead made it too difficult for her to face you. Maybe she was all caught up in two guys being completely obsessed with her, which admittedly made you a little jealous.

Soon enough you seemed to be completely off one another’s radars. It made high school even lonelier for you. You eventually found some new friends in other corners of the “Smart Kids” lunch table, but it was never like it was with Nancy and Barb.

So by the time he started getting a little mean, there wasn’t really anyone to protect you. Your new friends were skittish around the metalhead. Nance and Barb would’ve stood up for you once, but that support system was obliterated back in ‘83.

So when he shoved past you in the halls later in your sophomore year, no one gave it any thought. When he was pulling your hair in your Junior year then acting all innocent when you turned around to confront him, still no one cared. Now in your Senior year—and him in his third—whenever you thought he couldn’t be worse, he proved you wrong and did so with a devilish grin.

He pulled your hair. He tripped you. He stood behind you in line at lunch and would flip up the back of your skirt. He smacked your books out of your hands. He openly mocked you while leaning back in his chair at lunch with that smug look on his face. He mimicked your contributions in class under his breath, knowing you’d hear him and trip over your words. He snuck filthy messages into your locker that made your face burn with embarrassment and disgust—disgust for him and for the way his perverted words made your thighs press together. He would speed up whenever you were walking or biking home just to scare the shit out of you. He would take any opportunity to shove you or throw things at you or press his body up against yours in a derisive and vulgar manner—especially in gym class. He would “playfully” hump you from behind and nearly knock you over whenever you bent over and there was no teacher paying attention. Or spank you. Or pinch your ass.

He was horrible. Disgusting. Obnoxious. Crude. Vile. He made you go home with tears in your eyes most days, but the worst part was how much you liked the attention. You hated yourself for it. You wished you were running to the nearest adult to tell them every last thing he did to you. You wished you were standing up to him and calling him a disgusting pig in front of everyone which surely would’ve pulled out some “Ooo”s and maybe even some of the Seniors that hated him would’ve joined in. Maybe even had your back, even if it was temporary.

But you didn’t because by now when he pulled your hair, you had to refrain from whimpering or moaning. When he tripped you, you thought of the things he could do to you now you were already on your hands and knees. When he flipped up your skirt you always gasped and shoved him away, secretly hoping he’d do it again—even starting to wear only your cutest pairs of panties to school. When he smacked your books out of your hands, you actually liked that it was him causing you to bend over or get on your knees to collect your things again. When he decided to mock you from over at his spot at lunch, you got butterflies from the way he said your name and the way his dimples sunk into his cheeks. When he mimicked you in class, you tripped over your words because his voice and tangible presence got you all flustered and hot. When you got to your locker, you secretly hoped to see the torn off corner of some notebook page flutter onto the floor with the most obscene words. When he sped up to scare you, you thought about screaming something so bold at him that he would screech to a halt and reverse before telling you to get in his van, now.

You liked when he threw things at you like balled up paper to your cheek in class or a basketball to your side in gym. You liked when he shoved you or pressed against you because in his attempts to intimidate you with his touch and his proximity, it made your knees weak. You liked how he pinched your ass or gave it a little smack when you bent over and your teacher wasn’t looking. And you loved when he would thrust up against you whenever you were bent over and there was no teacher around at all, because his bulge pressed up against you (even while he was laughing devilishly) made you ache.

He was so utterly horrible to you, and yet when you found yourself grinding on your hand at night on top of your pink, white and yellow quilt—you were thinking about him and how mean he was. You were thinking about how mean he would be as he fucked you. Taunting you and teasing you and mocking you. You spasmed around your fingers and choked down your cries at the thought of him bullying your cunt.

It was all a fantasy, though. He never interacted with you longer than a few seconds, and was always with him in control. If you walked up to him and told him you wanted him to fuck you like the bully he was, he probably would’ve died laughing right before your eyes and told everyone he knew about your embarrassing lust for the guy who made your life a living hell. But now you were being cornered into spending time with him, and being faced with a real-life scenario where you were together made your palms sweat.

“I know he’s a difficult young man, but if you tutor him I’ll figure something out with the principal. Some sort of extra credit maybe.”

“There’s no one else that could tutor him?” You choked out, nerves on edge. Ms. O’Donnell gave you a sympathetic smile and shook her head.

“All busy.”

Busy, my ass you wanted to huff out. They were probably all avoiding him like the plague. O’Donnell was desperate to get his grade up and get him out of the damn school, which you didn’t blame her for, but god… why you?

“Okay…” You relented, a sad twitch for a smile when she sighed in relief and thanked you incessantly.

“I’ve already spoken to him about needing a tutor, I’ll let him know the good news, okay?”

You nodded with a meek “okay,” and tried to go on with the rest of your day as if you weren’t wracked with fear, excitement, concern over your excitement. You were on edge all day, and nearly jumped out of you seat when you were called to the office over the speakers about 5 minutes to the end of your last class. You swallowed anxiously, collecting your things and trying to ignore the “ooo”s over you being summoned to the principal’s office—assuming you were in trouble.

You trudged towards your destination, pausing when you spotted him slack in one of the chairs by the front desk that he frequented more than anyone else. You considered running in the opposite direction and making up some lie to Ms. O’Donnell the next day, but then Mrs. White beamed at you after happening to glance away from her clunky typewriter.

“Miss Y/L/N! Come on in, dear.” She spoke cheerfully in a way that went through you sideways. Eddie’s eyes shot up to you, smirking around the fingernail he was chewing at and clearly considering spitting it at you if Mrs. White hadn’t been paying attention. You toyed with the ends of your sleeves anxiously, listening to Mrs. White discuss the details Ms. O’Donnell had ready. What topics to go over (which was just about everything). How many times per week she wanted you to tutor him (at least once/week). The only thing left out was when and where.

“Oh that’s up to you two, hon.” She chirped. “Just compare your schedules.”

“It’s not in school? With a teacher around?” You questioned anxiously, but she was oblivious to your worries.

“Nope, no need for supervision. We like to give the tutors space from the teachers while they work with others, we find that the students that need help take to that better.”

“Sure do.” Eddie spoke up, and you nearly flinched at how close he sounded. You glanced over and he must’ve just gotten out of the hard plastic chair cause he was slightly leaned back to give his body a stretch causing his chest to puff out a little, his hands moving to rest by his hips as he tugged his jeans up.

“What? Scared of me ‘r somethin’?” He whispered playfully, a hand moving up to rest over his heart as he feigned offense before his act melted away to show his usual smirk. He winked at you, and you swallowed nervously as you looked back at Mrs. White again who was blissfully unaware of his malevolence.

“So here you go… those worksheets and… a time sheet.” The woman grinned as she placed the last paper on top before sliding everything over. “You just have to add the dates that you study together, and you both have to sign each time. Ms. O’Donnell said writing a quick synopsis of what you went over would be nice too, but not necessary. The most important thing is seeing a difference in Mr. Munson’s grades.”

“Sounds good to me, Pam.” Eddie smiled at Mrs. White whose sunny demeanor sunk into a more serious expression while you put the papers away neatly in one of your folders.

“What have we talked about, Mr. Munson? Use my first name again and you’ll find your butt in detention this Saturday for such disrespect. Again.”

He puts his hands up as if apologizing for his actions, but he was still grinning ear to ear. Mrs. White eyed him with a tight lipped scowl, then looked at you.

“Good luck.”

You were gonna need it.

The ride to your house in his rusty van was surprisingly quiet beyond his music. You were on edge which he enjoyed like always, but he was clearly saving the torment for when he was inside your home. You wished your parents were home, even if they were tucked away in another room, but they were both gone for the weekend to attend your Aunt’s wedding. Not that you’d let him know that.

“We’ll be studying in the dining room. And no funny business. My dad’s in his office and he doesn’t like being disturbed while he’s working.” You lied seamlessly, making your way over to the dining table, Eddie lazily sauntering along.

“Oo does daddy have a temper?” He teased in a whisper. “Gonna come out and spank you if you bother him too much?”

He gave you a mocking pout and your face scrunched up with irritation.

“Just sit so we can get this over with.”

“I’m sorry are you under the false impression that you’re in charge here, doll face?” He questioned, keeping his anger mostly disguised by his inquisitive tone.

“Well, I’m the tutor so-“ You scoff out, avoiding looking at him as you pulled all of your study materials from your bag.

“Yeah and that means something to me because…?” He drew out his last word as he spun on his heels and casually walked away.

“I- what-“ You sputtered. “What are you doing?”

“You know it’s awfully rude to have a guest and not give them a tour of the place.” He spoke casually, grabbing the ends of picture frames hanging on the walls to get a better look at them before letting them drop back again. You were hot on his heels, fixing every frame he left crooked. He paused at a picture of you from camp in a bikini with some of the friends you made that summer, smug and sucking at his teeth a little as he eyed the image of you.

“Real cute…still got it?” He looked over at you, his hair shifting over his shoulder as he eyed you. “Wanna model it for me? Make all this worth my while?”

Your cheeks were starting to turn pink.

“We have to study.”

“Eh.” He shrugs, and looks over to spot the staircase behind him. He slunk around the corner and made his way up the carpeted steps.

“Hey- hey! You’re not allowed up there!” You shout after him, rushing to follow after him. He was already on the second floor when he turned and shushed you.

“Don’t wanna make daddy angry, right? He’s hard at work if I’m remembering correctly.” He whispered with a joking concern for your father’s focus who wasn’t even here, and you worried he knew that. He continued on along the hallway and you stayed behind him, wishing there was something you could do to get him to stop. He opened doors along the way, inspecting the interior with a mild curiosity. The upstairs bathroom. Your parent’s room. The spare bedroom. Then-

“Ah, here we are.” Your bedroom at the end of the hall.

“Please get out of my room.” You pleaded, but he continued on his quest. He looked at the makeup on your vanity, toppling some of the products over like a careless cat before moving on. He toyed with any photos in your room, sniffed at the perfume bottles on your dresser.

“Eddie-“ You started, clenching your jaw as he found the perfume you wore the most often and sprayed some of it on the crotch of his jeans. Then he just kept a hold on it as he waltzed around your room, spraying it several times just to waste your favorite product.

“That’s rude.” You spoke up, your lips pouting slightly. He snickered at your comment, how you sounded like a wronged child.

“Aw well if you need to touch up your perfume at all, you know where to get it.” He grinned, pointing to his groin before continuing to go through your things. The concept was strange but still made you clench simply from the thought of having to rub at his bulge to get something you wanted. He didn’t waste that much of your fragrance, but the idea was still burning in your mind.

He muttered disapproving comments at the posters on your walls and the cassettes he rummaged through until he got bored. You were nervous about interfering even as he invaded your privacy, until he was opening your top drawer to go through your panties and bras.

“Hey! That’s too far!” You gasp, rushing over to slam the drawer closed again. He shoved you back and opened it again.

“Quit being so fucking uptight.”

“Quit going through things that don’t belong to you!” You talked back which was still surprising him every time you did, but certainly didn’t let it show.

“Yeah well quit pissing me off before I put you in your fucking place.” He seethes, giving you an angry warning look that felt like fire all over you. You wanted to cry, to tell him to stop being so mean to you, but it would be useless. You’d just end up feeling pathetic as he laughed over your misery. You just had to stand there and watch as he kept going through your underwear drawer.

“Ooh, cute. I don’t think I’ve seen these yet.” He clicked his tongue and blew out an impressed breath as he held up a black lacy number. “‘d love to leave some stains on these for you, doll face.”

“You’re disgusting.” You blurt out, but the thought of his cum spurting onto your new pair of panties made you feel warm. He smirked at your frustration, tucking the underwear into his pocket.

“Those are new!”

He shrugs, shoving the drawer closed again with enough careless force to knock over a picture frame perched on top. He doesn’t seem to care until he’s spinning around with his finger pointed at you and that wicked look on his face.

“You know what, though? You bring up a great point.” He tugs the lace from his pocket and holds it up to his nose before letting out a disappointed sigh. “Now that’s a problem. Still smell like whatever cutesy store you got ‘em from.”

You have a moment of hope that he’s trying to be nice and provide an opportunity to give them back to you, even if he’s going about it in a dirty way. But that doesn’t last long, even when he’s tossing them back to you.

“Why don’t you put ‘m on for me, huh? Then when you give ‘em to me on my way out I’ll have proof of how fucking wet I get you.” He spoke so smoothly as he got closer to you, that it almost blanketed the filth of his words as something soft or even sweet.

“As if.” You scoff out in a huff, and there’s a fury to his gaze that you don’t understand.

“Yeah… as if.” He murmurs darkly, getting closer to you. You swallow nervously and take a step back. “Cause fuck me, right? I’m just some good-for-nothing asshole who you wouldn’t give the time of day. Not a priss like you.”

“I-I’m not a-“

“Oh dad!” He’s suddenly shouting at the top of his lungs in a sing-song manner, his body whipped around to face your doorway, and your eyes go wide.

“Stop-“

“Hey! I just wanna meet Mr. Y/L/N! Spending time with your lovely daughter!” He spoke with a passionate respect that you knew was coming from a hateful place. He had gone to your doorframe and was listening for any kind of response. A verbal acknowledgement. The sound of steps or creaking floorboards to tell him there was actually going to be someone to confront him.

His grin became devious as he went to the steps again. “Hello?” He calls, dragging out that last vowel.

“Will you quit it!” You hiss, tears prickling at your eyes now at the thought of him realizing you were all alone. Just you and him. And that you had lied to him.

He was turning around, sure now that the only people in this house were you and him. His dimples were pushing into his cheeks again as he sucked at his teeth, approaching you at the doorway to your bedroom like a cocky killer. The kind that you saw in horror movies that knew they had their prey cornered and could have some fun with it.

Out of nerves and a need to keep a barrier between the two of you, you took a quick step back and went to slam your door shut so you could lock it, but he got there in time to stop in with an outstretched arm. He pushed it open so harshly that you were sure there would be a dent in your wall where the doorknob was forced into it.

God, you couldn’t stand the way he looked right now. So proud. So smug. That shit-eating grin that told you he knew he was winning. That fury from before still lingering. He noticed the gloss to your eyes and tuts as a mocking pout reaches his lips.

“Upset about somethin’, doll? Someone got you all worked up?”

You huff out your nose, your lips screwed into a frown and your eyes still stinging with unshed tears.

“You’re so… so… mean! I hate you!” You shout, and without even realizing it you had stomped your foot at your last statement. It makes him pause, his expression unreadable for a moment as he considers everything until it all lands on amusement. He crosses his arms over his chest, grin wild and his hair flowing with him as he tilts his head with intrigue.

“Did you just stomp your foot at me, princess?” He teases, and your face feels so hot you wonder if he can see the flush of pink even through your foundation. He can. You refuse to answer him, fighting back the urge to fully cry in front of him. He’s getting closer though until he’s brushing up against you and looking down at you. God, he’s so warm.

“Aw… such a sensitive girl. Look at you.” He murmurs as he continues backing you two up until you’re pressed against the wall, one of those posters he disapproved of crinkling against your hair. He’s making fun of you like always but there’s a softness around the edges of his words. Blurred by a desire to do just about anything to you. He reaches his hand up to drag the pad of his thumb over your pouty lower lip before bringing his hand down to grasp you by your chin.

“Bet your pussy’s just as responsive as the rest of ya, huh?” He whispers as he makes you look up at him. Your nostrils flare momentarily and you keep looking up at him but you still won’t speak and you still won’t let those tears fall.

“I bet your cunt is just as weepy. All hot and wet when I’m fucking you into shape.”

You bite the inside of your cheek to refrain from whimpering or letting your lips part for a soft sigh. Anything that would confirm how badly you want him to figure out just how right he is. But then his anger flares back up as he’s gripping your jaw now, squeezing just enough to make it uncomfortable.

“Speak when you’re spoken to.” He demands in a low voice with a sort of growl to it that makes your knees weak. You part your lips as you consider answering him like you’re told, and he raises his brows while waiting. Then, in a brazen defiance, you spit in his face instead.

He’s so solid it’s almost like he doesn’t care. Not a flinch or a crack in his demeanor. Then he’s moving his hand from your jaw to your throat and gripping onto it enough that you gasp.

“I’ve been spat on my whole fucking life, you think that’s gonna make a difference here, princess? Think that’s gonna make me respect you? Think you’re brave?”

Your hands reach up to rest over his on your neck, a mewl vibrating from the back of your throat. He leans in closer to your face, your lips parting wider as he tightens his grip.

“It just makes me think you’re stupid.” He finishes before spitting directly into your open mouth. He’s releasing you from his grip right after, wiping your saliva from his cheek while you catch your breath. A soft moan escapes you before you can keep it at bay and his inflated ego is tangible. He’s eyeing you with a sort of amazed intrigue that pulls him back to you, his arms lifting to place his hands on the wall on either side of your head.

“You like it, don’t you?” He laughs and you shake your head furiously, but he isn’t buying it. “You could’ve gotten my ass suspended—hell, even expelled—ages ago. And yet…?”

“I just felt bad that you’re such a fucking idiot.“

“Dirty girl.” He hisses inward through his teeth as if burned by your words, but you were just egging him on.

“Do you kiss your mother with that mouth?” He wondered in a soft tone, hand back to your jaw as you stayed quiet. “Will you kiss daddy with that mouth?” He added with a lazy grin, exuding dominance and arrogance.

You became a little slack jawed at the implication, and he was on you. Hand still on your jaw, he pressed his lips to yours. You feigned protest at first with a few kicks and smacks, but then he had your wrists pinned against the wall and you sunk into the kiss. He kept you pinned for a few moments, until he was sure you were relaxed. He dropped his hands down to completely engulf your waist in his arms, and keep you pressed against him. The kiss was filthy with anger-fueled lust and slips of moans on your end and grunts from his.

“I hate you.” You whispered in between kisses, his hands moving to grip your ass now.

“Yeah you do.” He chuckled proudly against your lips before beginning to trail his lips down your jaw to your neck. Your eyes fluttered closed, hands settled on his muscular back as he sucked and bit at your neck, messy hair tickling you. More sounds slipped from you with no attempt to hold them back, a teary whimper hanging on your lips after he bit down on your neck hard enough to pull a yelp from you.

“Gonna mark you all up…” He muttered against your skin, making your head swirl.

“Gonna have you walking into school and have everyone know who you belong to.” He pulled back now, breathless and his full lips all pink with attention. His eyes were dark with lust, and it all made you whimper. The sound made him laugh in disbelief.

“Yeah? Such a slut. Bet you can’t wait to walk in with my hickeys all over you. Might even fuck you in the back of my van beforehand. Make you go to class full of my cum.”

You almost can’t believe him or yourself as you nod your head dumbly with a desperate pout. He groans at the sight and pulls you to him again, his lips back on yours as his hands reach down to hook under your thighs and lift you up. You’re quick to wrap your legs around his waist, a soft cry escaping when he starts grinding against you. He’s so hard and feels so pressed into his jeans, you’re both afraid and alight at the thought of just how big he probably is.

Eddie made his way over towards your bed until his legs made contact with your bed frame. He pulled away from the kiss to drop you on the bed carelessly. You lifted your torso up by digging your elbows back into your mattress, legs bent up at the knee and parted for him while you watched him undo his belt. He noticed you staring, and his gaze traveled along your form. Your knit sweater. Your pleated skirt.

“Take that shit off.” He said with a slight jut of his chin in the direction of your top, hands paused at the waist of his jeans and boxers. You hesitated at first, mostly at his hesitation to pull down his bottoms, but also out of nerves that your body wouldn’t be good enough. He made fun of you for just about everything. Surely he would tease you for that too.

“Did I fucking stutter?” His voice rose just a touch, his expression showing his impatience. At that your eyes went a bit wide again, and you lifted your sweater over your head and then the t-shirt you had on underneath. His hand was under his undone jeans, palming himself through his boxers as he looked over your naked torso.

“Bra too.” He murmured, and your nerves subsided from the way he looked at you. It was all hunger and lust and some impatience, but that was common. But no mockery. He wasn’t gearing up to make fun of your body cause he’s been waiting to see it. It was even better than he imagined, and he stopped a groan in his throat when you unclasped your bra and put it off to the side.

“Fuck…” He sighed out, squeezing his hard cock in his fist. You arched your back, which he initially enjoyed, until he realized your hand was moving to unzip the back of your skirt.

“Hey.” His harsh tone broke through, his free hand slapping your thigh. “Did I say take the skirt off?”

Your lips parted, and he jerked his head forward with a wide, frustrated gaze. It was as if he was saying “Hello? Earth to Y/N?”

He rolled his eyes as you shook your head no, and moved your hands away. He muttered under his breath and settled himself between your legs before deciding you weren’t close enough. His hands grasped your thighs to pull you closer, a surprised giggle bubbling in your chest from the action. He didn’t acknowledge it because he was trying to not let it show that it made him want to smirk. Just like when you get all teary-eyed. Or stomp your feet. Or finally get enough nerve to talk back. Even getting a giggle out of you made him smug, despite the fact that he had only ever seemed to enjoy making you miserable.

Eddie flips your skirt up onto your stomach, licking his lips at the sight of the light blue cotton panties he had already seen in the lunch line today. He finally tugged his jeans and boxers down below his balls, and started pumping his dick in his hand. Your nerves lit up at the sight of it—thick and with a bit of a curve to it. You wanted to see more of him, but the likelihood of that was slim to none. He enjoyed the control he had in this relationship, and that meant he liked having you almost completely naked in front of him while he was practically still dressed. He smirked as pre-cum beaded up on his tip and let it drip onto the fabric of your underwear. He dipped down to drag his tip along your covered slit to make a mess of your panties with his pre-cum. You inhaled sharply at the feeling, biting the inside of your lip whenever he nudged your clit.

“I like these panties…” You complained, knowing how much better it would be for him to ruin a pair of underwear you love.

“Aw…” He tutted, leaning over you as he mimicked the pout on your lips. “Don’t tell me that cause then I might have to cum all over them. ‘N I thought you wanted it inside.”

You mewled again, nodding your head which he mimicked too. The little shake of your head, the sound you made.

“Such a whiny, needy girl.” He said as if he cared. He hooked a finger under your panties and tugged at them, fighting the fabric over your legs one handed before holding them up to his nose. His eyes were trained on the sight of your sopping pussy as he breathed in, his cock twitching in his fist. He cursed under his breath, only pulling the fisted cloth away to stuff into his back pocket. His now free hand moved forward to drag his fingers through your slit, proud to feel how soaked and puffy you were already.

“You a virgin, doll?” He purred, tilting his head with a sickeningly sweet grin, the curled corners of his lips devilish. It was saccharine and mean. He figured you’d say yes because no one at school seemed to want you, but then you shook your head.

You lost your virginity at that summer camp you were at in the picture he was ogling earlier. It was awkward and felt strange, and you didn’t have much experience beyond that, but you weren’t a virgin. You thought he’d like you better this way anyways, already ready for him to fuck, but it ticked him off.

“No?” He asked, pushing two thick fingers into your cunt and making you gasp. The pressure on that sweet spot right at your entrance was buzzing with pleasure, but it still ached a little. “Guess you’re the little slut I always thought you were, hm?”

He was pushing his fingers in deep and curling them up into that spongy spot that made you whine and your thighs tremble.

“Who is he?” Eddie urged, his expression back to the irritation you were familiar with. You weren’t answering, all of your focus on his thick fingers and the rings that adorned them pinching the edge of your entrance.

“Who. Is. He?” He repeated, moving his face a bit closer to yours in bursts with every word, his head tilting to the left then to the right then back to the left to punctuate his words. He was slowing it down for you like you were dumb, and his fingers stopped moving—all of this making you huff.

“No one-“ You whine hopelessly, and he was starting to pull his hand away but you shot yours out to grip his wrist and keep his fingers deep between your legs. “No one, no one important.” You continued. “It was at summer camp, he’s not even from here. Please-“ you nearly sobbed, and it was enough to make the man groan as he leaned over you.

“Oh… please what, doll face?” He murmured, hand that had just been wrapped around his dick sinking the mattress down beside your head.

“Please- please don’t stop.” You whimper softly and he smiles sweetly down at you while pulling his hand away anyways. It was just for a second, enough to make you want to cry, but then he was plunging them back into your fluttering hole again. He added a third finger, barely giving you even enough time to enjoy the first two, the stretch making your lips part a little.

“God, you’re desperate.” He snorted, his hand angling a bit differently to let his thumb catch your clit. He watched with pride as your head tilted back and your back arched. Your thighs kept twitching and your walls were clamping down around his fingers more and more—he could tell you were close.

“Eddie…” You drawled, breath catching as your body braced itself for the mind-altering pleasure of your orgasm, but just as you approached the top—he pulled his hand away. You let out a distressed cry that made him laugh. He cooed at you, his hand that had been pumping his cock moving to rest on your cheek. Knowing where it had been made it even better, made it filthier. It made you wonder how many times he had just touched his dick before touching you.

“That’s for letting some random loser fuck you.” He whispered after leaning down so close that his nose was occasionally brushing against yours.

“‘m sorry…” You whine, tears of pleasure and pain having already slid down from your eyes and back towards your ears—leaving your hair damp and cold.

“You’re sorry, what?” He urged, nudging his tip against your folds.

“I’m sorry I let someone else take my virginity.” You were a blubbering mess, teary-eyed and needy.

“You’re gonna make up for it, though, right?” He purred, his tip already pressing into you and you nodded enthusiastically with a cry, your hips twitching forward.

“That’s my girl.”

Your lips parted, your lower lip quivering when he pushed into you until his hips were flush with your ass. You let out a sort of choked whimper and he groaned.

“Fuck you’re tight…” He sighed with content, sliding back before sinking back in until his tip was kissing your cervix. “Not even a virgin and I’m still gonna have to work to split this cunt open, huh?”

He was grinning again over that, over the grip your walls had on him from such a foreign stretch. It ached in the best way possible except for the occasional thrust that pinched and made you yelp out a small “ow.”

“S-so big… you’re so big…” You babble, your mind fuzzy. Your pupils were all blown out and you watched him fuck into you like it was the best dream you ever had. You eventually tilt your head back, letting out a happy hum as your hips push outward to feel him as deeply and as harshly as possible. He mimicked the sounds you made and the expressions you made from his thick cock hitting all the right places and stretching you enough that you knew you were going to be sore. All day tomorrow you were going to get brief pangs of aching that would remind you of how full you were of Eddie. Eddie, Eddie, Eddie. He was all you could focus on, and you didn’t even realize you had been whimpering his name over and over under your breath until he made fun of you for it.

“Fuck you.” You huffed defensively, only for his amusement to bolster.

“Ha!” He cackled right in your face as you looked up at him with glossy eyes, pink cheeks and pouty lips. “Already are, sweetheart.”

Soon enough your sounds annoyed him though, especially the more demanding they got. Harder. Faster. Slower. More. Please. So he flipped you over onto your stomach and had his hand on your head to press your cheek into the mattress as he mounted you again—all with a casual “God, just shut up.”

At this new angle he was driving into you with a force that reverberated throughout your whole body every time he slammed into your cervix or that gushy part of you. You felt dizzy and breathless, every stroke of his cock against your ridged walls shooting off sparks. After being so close just from his hand to now, you were steadily approaching an orgasm again—just praying he’d let you keep it this time. He must’ve noticed because his free hand was reaching down to rub your clit. Your eyelids fluttered, a sob being muffled by the comforter you were biting down on. The sound of skin smacking, the tired springs of your bed squeaking, Eddie’s panting and grunting, the chain of his wallet clinking every now and then, the wet and pornographic sound of his cock plunging in and out of your pussy—it all seemed so loud for a second and then felt muffled the next as you came undone around him. You moaned out his name, whimpering cries on the tail end. You could feel your walls fluttering around him, clamping down and then blossoming back open then clamping down again in a mind-swirling rhythm.

“That’s a good girl…” He purred in a way that might’ve been too sweet from him if it wasn’t laced with a condescending tone. “Gonna cum in you, ‘kay?”

“Uh-huh-“ You moan, body aching as he picks up the pace again, fingers tangled in your hair with a painful grip. You can’t see him, but his head is tilted back completely blissed out as he fucks into you. You felt amazing, even better than he imagined which was pretty damn astonishing considering the pedestal he already had your pussy on in his imagination. He was so close, and a brief thought of getting you pregnant nearly sent him over the edge. He was mean. So fucking mean. That was the most devious thing he could do. Fill you up and make you all round with his kid.

“Shit-“ He pants out. “Gonna fill you up, babe.”

“Please-“ You beg, pulling an incredulous chuckle from him.

“Such a good girl… always take everything I give her.” He breathes out, leaning down to trap your body between him and your bed, his hand moving your hair away from your face. “Takes everything I give her at school, and she’s gonna take everything I give her in her bed, isn’t that right?”

“Yes, please-“ You sob, gasping out with the next few sharp thrusts against you until there was this warm feeling blooming inside you as he groaned against your back. He gave a few more thrusts after cumming inside, letting out happy puffs of air. You remembered how content that guy was when he unloaded into his condom inside you in camp. That blissful look on his face before he pecked your lips then lied next to you. Eddie didn’t bother with a condom, didn’t press a little peck to your lips and he wasn’t so quick to pull out either. When you squirmed a little he shifted so he was pushed up deeper into you, pulling a gasp from you which made him smirk against your skin.

Eventually he leaned up to bite your shoulder and then he slid out of you. You were still a little out of it, purring out a whiny hum as you nuzzled your quilt. Your legs were still spread and slightly bent up while you laid there on your stomach, and as he adjusted his softening dick back into his boxers he saw his cum slowly started to seep out of you and onto your comforter. Ever the gentleman, once his pants were zipped back up and his belt was buckled he landed his palm on your ass cheek and turned you over as you huffed over the action.

“See you Monday.”

“But we… we have to…” You fought to find your words through the haze. Study. You had to study.

“Bye, doll face!” He called out as he made his way downstairs.

You pouted a little, wanting to beg him to come back and stay with you. Maybe even go another round, but you were so spent that you just laid there.

When you got your energy back enough to force you to get up, you went to pee and clean yourself up before heading downstairs. Unsure of what to do with yourself, you made your way over to your backpack and you spotted the writing on the time sheet. A smile tugged at your lips. Instead of the date he wrote his phone number, and for the synopsis of today’s tutoring session he wrote “sex ed” with a winky face, and then signed where he was supposed to.

God, you were so fucked. And you were going to need a new time sheet.

#eddie munson smut #mean!eddie munson #bully!eddie munson #perv!eddie munson #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x yn #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson #eddie munson stranger things #stranger things smut

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tojiscumdumpster · 11 months ago

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⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀ ▶︎ •၊၊||၊|။||||။ knockout x renji abarai

✧ summary there’s no better way for renji to celebrate a big win than to spend the night with y/n.

✧ content warnings reader described as a black woman who uses she/pronouns. feisty!reader, chubby!reader x undergroundfighter!renji. modern au — no bleach verse. told in first POV — renji’s. mentions of stitches and bruises. usage of profanity, praise kink, cowgirl position, nipple play, facefucking — renji will finish in reader’s, squirting. terms of endearment — baby, sweetheart, angel, etc. reader and renji are in their late twenties.

✧ author’s note hello, hello. i am here with a fic that’s not jjk for once in my life, lmfao. this idea has been in my drafts since january 2023, and it was just sitting there collecting dusts on my old tumblr. but i said i was going to do more bleach characters, so here we go. first time writing renji, so if this ain’t how you see him, oops. still enjoy. also didn't really focus on the underground!fighter portion as much. but maybe i will if there's a next time. support me by liking, commenting, and reblogging this post. i would greatly appreciate it. AGELESS/BLANK BLOGS AND MINORS— DO NOT INTERACT.

I know she told me not to come by after the fight, but I needed to.

I won.

I fucking won, and there’s no other way for me to celebrate winning ten thousand dollars than to be with Y/N.

Well, that’s if she’s still not mad at me.

Before I left for my match, we got into an argument. A huge one. She doesn’t like that I fight for a living, let alone illegal underground fighting. I mean—I get it. Seeing someone you care about constantly getting his ass beat isn’t a sight worth seeing.

But fighting is all I know.

I had a shitty childhood. Didn’t know who the hell my parents were since they gave me up at birth for adoption. Jump around in foster care homes until the mothers got sick of me and kicked me out in the streets. Survival was basically forced on me.

Fighting is what kept me alive. For food. Clothes. A place to lay my head. Whether I lost or won, I know the reason why I’m alive today is because I’m a fighter.

It wasn’t until I was eighteen when I found out about the world of underground fighting. Ten years deep and I know nothing else.

Y/N knows this about me. She understands I didn’t have it easy and never judged me. But that doesn’t mean she agrees with my lifestyle.

She came to a few fights in the beginning. Eventually, she got tired of seeing me stitched up almost every weekend.

Shit, me too.

However, after tonight, I feel good about my future wins. I busted my ass in training, so now I don’t have to hear shit about anymore losses.

Even if right now I’m stitched up and have a black eye. I feel good.

Great.

Better if Y/N opens the door after keeping me waiting out in the cold for the past ten minutes.

I know she’s awake. She has a habit of staying up late, studying for med school. And plus, I haven’t messaged or called her yet. Despite her not showing up to my fights, she still wants an update afterwards that I made it out alive.

“Y/N, let me in,” I say, knocking loudly on her apartment door. “You know I don’t care about making a scene.”

After a few more obnoxious knocks, the door finally swings open and I am met with deep russet skin, tight curls, and chocolate-colored eyes that pierce an annoyed look in my direction.

“What do you want?” She bites out. “I’m busy.”

I smirk and hold the bag of money in the air. “I won.”

“Congrats.” Her tone is flat and she tries to slam the door in my face, but I placed my foot to stop it from closing. “Seriously?”

“Yes, seriously. Are you really still mad at me?” I teasingly ask.

“You won. I said congrats. What more do you want?”

I shrugged. “I’m locked out of my apartment.”

She arches a brow at me, already recognizing my bullshit ass excuse of being locked out of my apartment.

Y/N knows me. She knows I would do anything to be in her presence, so going back and forth in forty degree weather is pointless.

Her pretty brown hues travels across my face and body, examining the stitches and bruises that probably has her wondering, who the fuck treated him?

Me. But that’s besides the point.

A deep sign escapes her mouth when she realizes I’m not going anywhere until she lets me in, so she opens her door wider and turns her back to me to walk further inside her apartment.

“Sit,” she orders, which I happily do so while chuckling to myself.

While Y/N goes to the bathroom (assuming she’s getting a med kit to fix my shitty patch job), I take advantage of staring at her round ass that’s barely covered in those tiny boy shorts. Every step she takes it jiggles, creating an ocean of waves I’m eager to swim in.

I get comfortable while I wait, taking off my skully, sweater, and any other form of heavy clothing that would cause me to sweat in her heated apartment.

“I’m going to start charging you if you keep fucking coming to my apartment like this, Renji,” Y/N snapped, walking with the kit in her hand as expected.

“Outside of paying for your tuition, I can think of other ways to repay you.”

She rolls her eyes at my suggestive comment. “Get over yourself, Abarai.”

I let out a snort before she stands in front of me and tilt up my chin to start making work on my face.

She’s cute when she’s mad. Huffing and puffing while whispering slick comments under breath. But how she’s handling my face by moving it around with force rushes blood straight to my groin.

I’m getting hard.

Hard as shit, and it’s not helping that I’m in close proximity with her.

That jasmine lavender scent that circulates through my senses. Looking up at her full lips that’s coated with gloss. Then, lowering my gaze to her tits that’s big, naturally saggy, and pretty. My mouth is watering at the sight of her nipples hardening.

And I don’t know if it’s because she feels that I’m checking her out or the coldness outside is affecting her.

Either way, I’ll act on it.

Taking it upon myself, I grab the back of her thighs to pull her on my lap. As if she’s used to my antics, it doesn’t catch her off guard and she continues to clean up my wounds.

“You’re all bloody up with a black eye and somehow you still have the energy to be a pervert,” she retorts.

I move one of hands to her ass, massaging comforting circles. “For you? Yeah.”

The quiet between us was comfortable until she opted to speak again. “So… who’d you fight?”

“Some huge motherfucker. I thought I was going to die.”

She leans back to grab more alcohol and dabs it above my brow. “Maybe that’s what needed to have you stop fucking fighting.”

I throw my head back to laugh, but she grabs my chin to bring my face forward. “Like you want me dead.” My hands creep beneath her cheeks to pull her closer to me and apply more pressure to my cock. “That’s what you want?”

“That came out my mouth, Abarai?”

“Why are you still mad at me?”

She scoffs. “Why am I mad that you’re practically coming to me everyday with a busted face and broken ribs?” That’s one thing I love about Y/N—her feisty personality. It turns me on so fucking much because I know when I fuck her, it’ll be a different story.

Continuing, she says, “I think I would be a little more satisfied if you did this professionally as opposed to underground. Underground doesn’t come with insurance, Ren.”

“Aw, you care about me that much?” My question was supposed to be posed as a joke, but the look on her pretty face says otherwise.

“Fucking asshole. I don’t know why I still deal with your ass.”

“Probably because you love me.”

“Probably not.”

Gripping her hips, I pull her with me and lean back into the headrest of the couch. We’re inches away from our mouths cooling and I take advantage of this proximity by basking in her sweet smelling breath and beauty.

Simply because Y/N exists, my cocks hardens for her. Holding her in my arms. Feeling her pussy against my erection and breasts suffocating pressed on my chest. Girlfriend or not, she’s mine.

And she knows it.

I can see how she looks at me, even when mad, that she cares and loves me. Y/N is a tough girl. I can only imagine what she’s been through. Still, she manages to soften up just for me.

We never made it official since she doesn’t approve of the underground shit, but that doesn’t mean I’ll ever stop asking.

“So when are you going to say yes to being my girlfriend?” I whisper.

She tries breaking from my embrace, but I tighten my grip. “Renji…”

“You feel my dick pressed against you, right? It only makes it harder when you say my name like that, Y/N.”

“Be real with me… will you keep doing this shit forever?” Her eyes waver as she awaits my answer and I can’t help the guilt from pinging my chest.

“If it lessens my chance of being with you, no.”

She searches my face for hesitance or deceit, however, she finds nothing because I meant what I said. Y/N is the only person that looks at me like I’m a human, and I wouldn’t let my obsession with fighting get in the way of our future together.

How she tucks her coil behind her ear and nips down on her lower lip shows me the bit of vulnerability she reserves for me.

So—I take advantage of it.

In less than three seconds my lips were on hers. I take my time relishing those sweet, plump and plush, strawberry flavored lips.

I can feel the skepticism from Y/N while kissing her, maybe because she’s trying to put on this show that she’s still mad at me. But soon, her rigid body melts into mine and returns the kiss.

Our heavy breaths mingle, increasing in speed the more aggressive we lock lips. She begins rolling her hips onto my cock and I let out a grunt, feeling the moisture of her pussy liquefying on me.

The slaps I leave on her ass are harsh, causing her to bite my bottom lip and suck it into her mouth. Y/N is so fucking aggressive it drives me nuts. She gives me a high and adrenaline not even a fight could give.

“Pull your dick out, Ren,” she orders through muffled moans and our kiss.

“Fucking bossing me around to give you cock? Not mad at me anymore?” Y/N ignores my taunt and works her hands between us to untie my sweats. I hiss at the feel of her cool hands engulfing my dick to give it a few pumps.

She must not know what her touch does to me. She handles my cock like she owns it, and gosh, I fucking love that shit. My fingers gently tangle into her coils to deepen our kiss, but she soon gets up to strip her clothes.

Fuck… Fuck, she’s so goddamn sexy. I’ll never get tired of her thick body, filled with soft dips and curves. I look at her, observe her like she’s an expensive piece of art hung up at a museum because that’s what I see her as.

Pretty pussy leaking arousal and I smirk to myself, thinking how she had all that attitude earlier while being wet for me like she didn’t want me inside of her.

“You’re fucking beautiful. You know that?” I ask, massaging her tits and looking up at her. “You still have that attitude or are you going to come ride my cock like a good girl?”

She gently pushes me back against the couch with her lips on mine and straddles my lap. “Depends on if you’re going to be a good boy and take this pussy.”

“Shit, angel. I will.”

Y/N hums while reaching around to align my cock with her sex. Two seconds later, she slowly sinks down my length until I’m buried into the hilt. That soft lingering fuck that slips past her pretty lips sounds sexy as hell and has my dick twitching in response.

I can’t bust now. Not yet. Even if the tightness and heat of her pussy pushes me off the edge of a mountain. Her pussy is so warm, so fucking warm, fat, and wet. Gosh, I don’t ever think I can be without this pussy.

I throw my head back and savor this feeling, but Y/N had other plans for me.

“Remember to look at me when I’m riding you, Ren,” she coos. “Eyes on me, baby. I want you to see how much I love this dick inside my pussy.”

Fucking Christ. “Tell me how much you love it while bouncing on me.”

And she does just that. Telling me how big and girthy I am, that she’s sorry for giving me attitude and admits that she just wanted dick. But no. I want her to fuck me like she’s mad. I need that type of energy pumping through my veins after this win tonight.

I reassure Y/N and tell her to fuck me harder. Her pace quickens and slaps her ass fervently against my cock. I can’t stop moaning her name. The wet slippery noises coming from her pussy increases in volume and it creates a mess between us.

This is where I belong, deep in her pussy and feeling her walls squeeze the hell out of me. I don’t even hold her hips or waist. I relax comfortably with my arms sprawl over the top of her couch, watching how gorgeous she looks while fucking what’s hers.

“Oh, fuck, Renji,” she moans, tugging her lips inwards and lolling her head to the side in complete pleasure.

Those perfect, full tits bounces in my face and I can’t help but stare and become mesmerized. Light marks that resemble tiger stripes decorated the valley of breasts. Her nipples, pebbled and straining underneath my gaze, look desperate for my touch.

I take it upon myself to pinch them between my fingers and a soft shriek escapes her mouth, further arching her back.

Y/N keeps getting wetter by the second, every bounce she makes. And hearing her sticky arousal, I know and see how she’s creaming my cock. Purposely, I sit myself on the couch, thrusting up in her a bit to feel my head hit her g spot.

“Ren, help me little,” she begs through a whimper. “Fuck me back.”

I caress her cheeks with the back of my head. “Yeah? You want me to help you, sweetheart?”

“Please.”

God, I love it when she’s needy for me like this.

In no time, my hands are at her waist and my thrusts meet with her jumping movements. Y/N isn't loud when it comes to her sounds of pleasure. Vocal, yes. But right now, her moans and whimpers are louder than usual.

It’s like she needed my dick inside of pussy just as much as I needed it.

I see the desire in her brown hues. I feel the heat radiating off Y/N’s skin while my fingers dig into her flesh, holding her in place to pound upwards into her pussy.

This is what I wanted—to fuck my girl after a well deserved win. And she’s going to congratulate me how I want.

My lips are at her neck leaving wet kisses and sucking her flesh until purple specks form. “Coming home to this good fucking pussy. Gosh, I love how you feel, angel. Going to fucking mean it now when you say congrats?”

“Congratulations, baby,” she purrs, slamming harder on my cock. “You did good… so damn good, Ren.”

I hum, dragging my tongue along her neck. “That’s what I wanted to hear.”

Y/N continues to gasps out her pleas for me to fuck harder. I comply… I comply in helping my pretty girl come and savor the look when she washes over me. My grips are firm on her waist, betting that’ll leave marks when she wakes up the next poor, and drive my cock deeper into her pussy.

I’m in pure awe. I feel my own releasing catching up to me the more I watch her take me. This is my woman. My fucking girl. I come home to this every night after every fight to hold her in my arms and fuck her.

Her name from my mouth sounds like a broken record when I moan her name. This fat, gushy, slick and tight pussy has this power over me. She won’t stop fucking squeezing me, I can’t prevent my face from growing hot. It’s intense how I feel right now, and it’s all because of Y/N.

“Good, good fucking pussy. God, you’re so fucking good to me, angel face,” I rasp, pecking her lips. “You’re going to come for me?”

“Yes, Renji, baby. I’m going to come. Keep giving me that dick. Please don’t stop, please.”

“Put your fingers in my mouth.” She does quick with my command. I suck on her digits and coat them well with saliva before pushing them out of my mouth. “Now rub your clit, pretty girl. I wanna see you squirt everywhere.”

Because she’s overwhelmed with arousal, Y/N stops bouncing on my cock and allows me to fuck her while she plays with clit. Her mouth hangs gape, drool slightly coating the side of her mouth and breathing heavily.

My balls slap her ass. My head kisses her soft cushion repeatedly. Her velvet walls transfer warmth to my cock and the bubble that rests in the pit of my stomach is on the verge of explosion.

I’m about to come. Hard.

But I need her to come first.

“Fucking come for me, Y/N. Keep playing with that pretty pussy and moan my name,” I grit out, pushing past all my thrusts.

“Right there, Renji. Keep fucking me right there… I’m–oh, fuck–I’m coming.”

She’s so pretty when she comes. Dark brown porcelain complexion, slick with sweat. Eyes rolling to the back of her head. Pussy clenching and unclenching around my cock. Moaning, whimpering my name back to back.

She’s breathless. Flawless. I have this image of her painted perfectly in my mind. Watching Y/N come, makes me come, so I make quick work to pull her off my lap. And she knows exactly what I want–to fuck my release down her throat.

Her mouth is as warm as her pussy, and I let out hitched breaths and harsh grunts when she swallows me whole. I’m relentless when forcing her head down on my cock as I facefuck her. The gurgling noises she makes are obscene. Pornogrpahic, even.

And what caused my come to shoot through her mouth is seeing that she’s still massaging her clit, eventually squirting all over her wooden floors.

My hips stutter and I throw my head back to moan into the air. “Fuck, Y/N! That’s my fucking girl. Look at you making a mess while choking on my cock and swallowing my come.”

Y/N takes it upon herself to wrap her lips tighter around my cock and massage my balls, ensuring every single last of my nut has released in her mouth. I take it for a while, but I soon become sensitive, practically feeling my skin being sucked off.

“Easy now, angel,” I say through an airy chuckle. I pull my cock out and her mouth echoes a pop sound.

She whines a little because I’m no longer in her mouth and it causes me to smirk because it wasn’t too long ago where she acted like she hated me.

My hand grasps her chin and guides it upwards to meet with my eyes. “You swallowed for me, Y/N? Open up.” She nods, sticking her tongue out. “Perfect.”

“You’re going to fuck me again?” She asks, catching her bottom lip between her teeth.”

Gosh, this woman will be the death of me.

tags: @dejwrld @hvshinas @diamondoidxx @xxjazzxx @thegirlwonder1 @ryukenzz @maiapuhpaia @elitesanjisimp @amyrahrose @sweetpeachies @abigolemess @linastired @diorsbrando @starrygetou @niya729 (if i didn't tag you it's because tumblr wouldn't have your user pop up)

#anime x black!reader #anime x reader #bleach x black reader #bleach x reader #bleach smut #fanfic smut #renji x reader #renji x black reader #renji abarai x reader #renji abarai x black reader #bleach fanfic

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zapreportsblog · 1 year ago

Note

hi!! can you do volturi x secretary!reader (platonic) who's just TOO GOOD AT HER JOB. she spells carlisle correctly, she doesn't interrupt, and she's like really professional. ALSO YOU FOLLOWED ME BACK LIKE I WAS SO SURRPISRD THANK YOU HAVE A GOOD DAYYAYAYYA

❝she’s just too damn good❞

✭ pairing : volturi x reader

✭ fandom : twilight

✭ summary : (Y/n) is the best damn secretary the volturi could ask for

✭ authors note : aww of course I’d follow you back :)

✭ twilight masterlist

The grand entrance hall of Volterra, Italy, echoed with the weight of centuries-old secrets and power. It was within these ancient stone walls that the Volturi, the ruling vampire coven, held their dominion. Aro, Caius, and Marcus, the three elder vampires who led the coven, sat upon their thrones, their crimson eyes filled with an ageless wisdom.

Their previous secretary had met an unfortunate end, her fate sealed by a single, costly mistake. Now, it was time to find a new secretary, one who could handle the delicate matters that crossed the Volturi's path.

(Y/n), a human with a reputation for competence and diligence, stood before the Volturi leaders. She pushed her glasses up on her face, the light catching the lenses and reflecting an intense determination in her gaze. She had no intention of failing in this prestigious role.

Aro, the most talkative of the trio, addressed her with a smile that didn't reach his eyes. "I trust you won't follow in our previous secretary's footsteps. Her errors cost her dearly."

(Y/n) met Aro's gaze with unwavering confidence. "No need for the warning, sir. I take my work very seriously. I'm here to ensure that every detail is meticulously attended to."

Caius observed her with a critical eye, his expression stern. "You are aware that our affairs are highly confidential, and discretion is of the utmost importance?"

(Y/n) nodded, her resolve unshaken. "Absolutely, sir. My lips are sealed, and I understand the consequences of breaching that trust."

Marcus, the most reserved of the three, merely regarded her with a measured gaze. "We shall see if your actions align with your words."

(Y/n) straightened her posture, ready to take on her new responsibilities. "You won't be disappointed, gentlemen."

With that, she accepted the role of secretary for the Volturi, stepping into a world of secrecy, power, and ancient vampires. As she walked away, she knew that she had taken on a role unlike any other, one that demanded her utmost dedication and discretion. The reflection of her determination in those glasses was a symbol of the resolve she brought to her new position, one that she intended to uphold at all costs.

(Y/n) settled into her new role as the secretary for the Volturi with a fierce dedication. Her efficiency and attention to detail quickly became apparent to the coven's leaders. Aro, always one to appreciate those who could fulfill his demands promptly, decided to put her to the test.

One afternoon, he strolled into her office, his graceful presence demanding attention. (Y/n) looked up from her desk, her fingers flying across the keyboard of her computer as she organized files and scheduled appointments.

"Ah, (Y/n)," Aro greeted her with his customary smile. "I have a task for you."

(Y/n) nodded, ready to take on any request from her employer. "Of course, master Aro. What do you need?"

Aro explained, "I need you to post an aid about a tour for fifty people for tomorrows feeding, a rather impromptu event. I would like you to schedule it for me.”

(Y/n) didn't miss a beat. She continued typing on her computer, her eyes darting across the screen as she worked her magic with scheduling software. "Consider it done, master Aro."

Aro was taken aback by her speed and efficiency. He had expected this task to take some time, but within mere minutes, (Y/n) turned her screen toward him, displaying a perfectly organized tour for fifty attendees, complete with dates, times, and an itinerary.

His crimson eyes widened with a mixture of surprise and admiration. "You work remarkably fast, (Y/n)."

(Y/n) looked up with a confident smile. "I pride myself on being efficient, master aro. Is there anything else you need?"

Aro chuckled, clearly impressed. "Not at the moment, my dear. Carry on with your excellent work."

As he left her office, (Y/n) couldn't help but feel a sense of satisfaction. She had proven her worth to the Volturi leader, and her efficiency would undoubtedly serve her well in this world of secrecy and power.

In the serene garden of the Volturi castle, Marcus often found solace among the flowers that his late mate had once lovingly tended to. He wandered the garden, lost in his own thoughts, the weight of his immortal life bearing down on him.

One day, as he strolled along the carefully manicured paths, Marcus noticed something extraordinary. The flowers that had once withered away had begun to regrow, vibrant and beautiful as if brought back to life by some unseen force. He couldn't help but be struck by the sight, the memories of his mate's love for these flowers flooding his mind.

Marcus approached a lower guard who was on duty nearby, his curiosity piqued. "Who has been taking care of the garden? These flowers, they are flourishing once more."

The lower guard, a vampire who had served the Volturi for centuries, nodded respectfully to Marcus. "It is the human, my lord."

"The human?" Marcus asked, intrigued. "What is their name?"

The guard, who knew the human by the name the Volturi called her, replied, "The secretary (Y/n), my lord."

Marcus considered this revelation, the name sparking a distant memory. He had heard the name (Y/n) mentioned in passing, but he had paid little attention. Now, it seemed this human was not only tending to the garden but also reviving the memories of his lost mate.

With a nod of appreciation, Marcus continued to admire the blooming flowers, a silent acknowledgment of the human named (Y/n) for her care and dedication. In the garden, among the resurrected blooms, he felt a connection to his past and a glimmer of hope for the future, all thanks to the efforts of this mysterious human.

In the dimly lit halls of the Volturi castle, Caius, one of the coven's leaders, was growing increasingly frustrated. He had been searching for his favorite cloak, a luxurious garment of deep crimson, for what felt like an eternity. His irritation had escalated to the point where his voice echoed through the corridors as he yelled at everyone in his path.

"Where is it? Who has taken my cloak?" he bellowed, his tone venomous.

Vampires scurried to avoid his wrath, their wide-eyed expressions betraying their fear of their temperamental leader.

In the midst of the chaos, a soft and calm voice cut through the tension. "(Y/n)," Caius snapped, his crimson eyes narrowing as he turned to face the human secretary, "(Y/n), have you seen my cloak? I cannot find it anywhere."

(Y/n) stepped forward, holding Caius's missing cloak draped carefully over her arm. Her voice was composed, unruffled by his outburst. "Master Caius, you left this in your office. I've noticed it had specks of dried blood on it, so I've had it dried clean."

Caius was momentarily taken aback, his anger dissipating as he processed her words. He couldn't believe it. The usually distant and indifferent human secretary had not only found his cloak but had taken it upon herself to ensure it was cleaned.

"(Y/n)," Caius said, his voice softer now, "you did this for me?"

(Y/n) nodded, her gaze steady as she met his crimson eyes. "Of course, Master Caius. It's my duty to assist in any way I can."

Caius, still in disbelief, reached out to take the cloak from her arm. His fingers brushed against hers, and he felt a strange, unfamiliar sensation stir within him. He couldn't deny that her thoughtfulness had left a mark on him, one that he couldn't easily dismiss.

As (Y/n) excused herself and left the hallway, Caius watched her retreating figure with a newfound appreciation. It was a small gesture, but one that had touched him deeply, and he couldn't help but wonder if there was more to this human secretary than met the eye.

The grand trial room within the Volturi castle was filled with a weighty silence as the three kings, Aro, Caius, and Marcus, gathered for a discussion. The subject of their conversation was none other than their human secretary, (Y/n).

"She's good at her job, almost too damn good," Aro commented, his eyes gleaming with intrigue. "I can't seem to find a simple mistake in her work."

Caius nodded in agreement. "She's quick, and her work is effective. It seems we'll be keeping her around long-term."

Marcus, who often remained silent, offered his approval with a subtle nod.

The kings reached a unanimous decision. They would offer (Y/n) a gift, one that would bind her to the Volturi for eternity. They sent their most trusted enforcers, the twins Alec and Jane, to fetch her.

Alec and Jane, swift and efficient as always, found (Y/n) in her office. They approached her with the precision of a well-practiced routine.

"(Y/n)," Alec began, his tone even, "the masters request your presence in the trial room."

(Y/n) blinked in surprise but complied, following the twins to the room where the three kings awaited.

Once inside, (Y/n) stood before the Volturi leaders, her heart pounding with anticipation. Aro spoke first, his voice dripping with charm.

"(Y/n), in the short months you have been with us, your dedication and efficiency have impressed us greatly," Aro said, his crimson eyes locked onto hers. "We value your contributions, and we would like to offer you a gift."

(Y/n) couldn't hide her surprise. "A gift, masters?"

Caius stepped forward, his gaze unwavering. "We offer you immortality, (Y/n). A chance to join our coven as one of us."

The offer hung in the air, a life-altering decision that (Y/n) had never expected. She considered her options carefully, her thoughts racing. The weight of eternity was a heavy burden to bear, but the allure of becoming part of the Volturi coven was undeniable.

After a moment of reflection, (Y/n) finally spoke. "I'm not sure what to say, masters, but thank you for the offer."

With her acceptance, the kings nodded in approval. The twins, Alec and Jane, moved closer, their hands lightly touching her body. “Alec -“ aro calls out and in second Alec has (y/n) wrapped in his dark smoke, her senses numbing within seconds. “Don’t worry dear, it’ll be over in no time.”

Over the course of three days, (Y/n) underwent the agonizing process of the vampire transformation. She endured the fire of change, sometimes which were numbed by Alec per the kings request and now she was emerging from the ordeal as a newborn vampire, her senses heightened and her existence forever entwined with the Volturi.

As her eyes fluttered open in her new immortal life, (Y/n) realized that she had become a permanent part of the Volturi coven, her loyalty and dedication recognized in the most profound way possible.

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itsbeeble · 1 year ago

Text

Enchanted

Summary: You lost each other once, holding out in hopes of crossing paths again. It's almost fate that you do, and Wonwoo doesn't want to let you leave him again

Genre: Angst, Fluff, Smut, exes to lovers

Pairing: Idol!jeon Wonwoo x afab!reader

WC: 4.5k (i got REALLY carried away yall im so sorry)

Series Masterlist

18+ MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS DO NOT INTERACT

WARNINGS UNDER CUT

Warnings: hurt comfort, ex high school sweethearts to lovers, mentions of someone trying to get a little too touchy feely with reader so if you aren't comfortable, don't read it (nothing bad happens AT ALL, the guy is just a dumbass, but i figured i would put a warning for all of you), unprotected sex, making out, fingering, choking, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, begging, kinda dom/sub themes again, mentions of drinking, swearing, marking, spanking, Wonwoo likes boobs, sexual tension, mentions of chemistry, idk there's a lot so let me know if i missed something important

Listen to Enchanted by Taylor Swift <3

A/N: Guys i wrote this all today/last night and i'm really proud of it. It's also the first smut fic that's like...i wouldn't call it intense but it's more than what I'm used to ig. I hope yall like it though <3. Also thank you to Fawn for beta reading again. teehee

You had always hated gatherings: holidays, work events, family reunions, weddings, you name it. You always hated being the only person there without a partner. Not that you felt the need to have one, but it got annoying when you got the same questions over and over and over again.

When are you going to settle down and marry a nice boy?

Your parents aren’t getting any younger, don’t you want them to have some grandkids?

What are you waiting for?

The truth is, you had the answer to only one of those questions. What were you waiting for?

It has to be some stroke of luck when the answer walks right through the door to your high school reunion decked in an all-black suit and the same nerdy glasses he’d had his whole life.

Jeon Wonwoo. Your high school sweetheart turned drunk sob story to your best friends after a few too many cocktails.

It’s ironic how the root of all of your relationship problems just so happens to hate your guts. Not that you blamed him for it. Everything that happened between the two of you, everything that went wrong in your relationship was because of you and your insecurities. Because you didn’t trust that the idol life wouldn’t ruin the two of you. If you were him, you’d cut contact and disappear as well.

Eunchae, your best friend from high school, nudges your arm, her eyes flicking between you and the man who hasn’t spotted your wide-eyed stare.

“Did you know he was coming today?” She whispers harshly, jerking you out of your dumbstruck trance. Your mouth opens and closes repeatedly, awfully reminiscent of a goldfish.

“I— no, no I didn’t.” You feel out of breath, your heart beginning to pound against your ribs so hard that you fear the bones might snap. “Hana said that— that he didn’t RSVP.”

You look up again, and your heart stutters in your chest.

He’s looking at you, through the crowd of people around him. Wonwoo had his eyes locked on you, his gaze unreadable from where you stood. It feels like he’s cast an enchantment on you, freezing you under the weight of his gaze.

Your hands are shaking, and the drink in your hand almost spills before Eunchae grabs you. Someone steps in front of Wonwoo— a man, from here you can’t tell who— and your view of him is cut off.

You don’t see him try to gently nudge the man to the side while talking to him, trying to get a better look at you. You don’t see the disappointment when he finally gets him to move and you’re gone, out of his view.

“Wonwoo,” one of his old friends, whose name has slipped his mind (Seonkyung maybe?), claps him on the shoulder. “You really have grown up, huh?” Wonwoo smiles politely, adjusting the expensive watch on his wrist.

“I mean seriously,” another man comes forward, someone Wonwoo knows very well and for all the wrong reasons. Lee Jongdae, the man who planted seeds of doubt in your ear. The man who ruined something good, something that would have lasted. “You used to be like,” Jongdae raises his hand, waving it flat in the air next to his shoulder, “this tall? And now you’re a giant!”

“You must be getting all the girls, eh?” Seonkyung teases. Wonwoo wants to scream, wants to get out of this situation as fast as possible. “The idol life must make things easy, right?”

“I don’t really go out much,” he shrugs, still holding that polite smile on his face. “The idol life is busier than you think.” Seonkyung scoffs at this. Jongdae narrows his eyes, but the near-mocking smile returns to his face.

“Come on~” Jongdae presses, “there’s gotta be some idol woman that you’ve snatched up. Someone has to have grabbed the attention of the great Jeon Wonwoo.”

He hesitates. Yes, someone has grabbed his attention but it isn’t another idol in the industry.

“Or, wait,” Jongdae’s hand collides with Wonwoo’s chest, something similar to malice appearing in his eyes. “Are you still hung up on that Y/N girl?”

Wonwoo goes rigid, and beside him Seonkyung gets quiet. Jongdae bursts into laughter, the sound ringing around the room and gathering the attention of a lot of people. Wonwoo feels his jaw tick in annoyance, fighting the urge to roll his eyes or knock the man to the ground.

“No way are you still hung up on her!” Jongdae huffs out between laughs, seemingly uncaring that he’s the only one laughing. “Ten years, and you’re still going after someone who couldn’t care less about you anymore?”

Someone inside of Wonwoo breaks a little bit. Something inside him cracks, and his resolve crumbles slightly. He hadn’t expected the jab to hurt as much as it did, but god did it sting.

“I never said I was hung up on her.” Wonwoo folds his arms over his chest. “Like you said, it’s been ten years. If she’s moved on then that’s her business.”

“So it wouldn’t bother you if I got with her?” Jongdae takes a step forward, an eyebrow arching in challenge. “Because I won’t lie to you, she’s looking good.”

Wonwoo’s jaw ticks again, but he keeps a pleasant smile on his lips. Don’t say yes, don’t say yes. “Like I said, not my business.”

That clearly isn’t the answer Jongdae is looking for, and a puff of pride fills Wonwoo.

And then dread. He just gave the one man he would hate to see you with permission to do whatever he wanted. “Permission”, as if he has any control or say in the things, or people, that you do.

When Jongdae approaches you, there’s an immediate pit of despair in your stomach, like some princess waiting to be saved from the tower she’d been locked in. There’s a menacing look in his eyes, and he walks with a swagger telling you that he’s used to getting what he wants out of a situation.

“Hi, gorgeous.” You almost cringe at the first words out of his mouth, your lips twisting into an awkward, tense smile.

“Hi…?”

“It’s been a while, hasn’t it?” Jongdae continues, not waiting for you to say or do anything. He’s only focused on getting what he wants, that much is obvious from the way he smirks and glances around to find…someone. Who, you aren’t sure. “You sure have…grown up a bit, haven’t you?”

“I mean…yeah I’m 27. I would hope I’ve grown up a bit.” He laughs a bit too hard for something you hadn’t intended to be funny.

“Say,” he leans closer to you, and you press yourself back against the wall. His hand comes to rest on the side of your thigh, right near the slit in your dress. “Why don’t we get out of here? You know, go somewhere a little bit more…quiet? Maybe Mrs. Ji’s old chemistry lab?”

Your body is tense, and you try to pull away from him.

“No, thank you.” Your hand tightens around the small plastic cup of cheap wine in your hand. “I think I’m fine where I am.”

“C’mon, don’t you wanna loosen up a bit?” He coos, and his grip tightens on part of your dress. Your body tenses.

Then his grip was gone, and his body is hitting the floor, and people were beginning to surround you and Jongdae and…Wonwoo?

Wonwoo is standing next to you, his black jacket seemingly gone, and the sleeves of his black button-up are rolled up to his elbows. His eyes are narrowed, his lips pulled into a thin line.

“What the hell was that for, Jeon?” Jongdae pulls himself to his feet, trying to approach him, but another man steps forward. “Thought you said it wasn’t your business?”

“It wasn’t,” Wonwoo agrees, “but that was only until you tried to do that.”

Something about Wonwoo being this protective over you, even after what you did, makes your stomach twist into knots. You have to remind yourself that he’s just doing this because he had to. Because this is what anyone would do, and your heart sinks into your stomach.

“We were just trying to have some fun,” Jongdae snaps, “right Y/N?”

Wonwoo looks at you, and when you return his gaze it’s like you’re back in high school again.

Do you want to leave? His head tilts ever so slightly toward the door.

Get me out of here. You hope your eyes are portraying that thought perfectly, but the tight smile on your ex’s lips tells you all you need to know.

“She’s not going anywhere with you, Lee Jongdae.” Wonwoo’s hand finds its way to the small of your back, and you find yourself tucking your body into his side just like you used to.

Only this time, it’s like you fit perfectly under his arm. His very…very…very muscular arm and slim waist and when your arm wraps into the back of his shirt, you can just barely feel the tight muscles and—

Oh god, you’re gonna do something you shouldn’t if the two of you don’t leave right now.

You’re lucky that Wonwoo is able to guide you away, and that Jongdae doesn’t try to come after the two of you. You figured that, while the man was stupid, he wasn’t going to try and harm someone making more than triple his annual income and with enough power to ruin his life with just one click of a button. Probably literally.

“Are you okay?” Wonwoo has his hands wrapped around the headrest of the driver’s seat in his car, watching you as you pick at the skin around your manicured nails. You turn your head to look at him, pursing your lips.

“I mean…I guess? He didn’t really do anything, thank god.” You let your hands drop to your lap and a heavy sigh escapes you when you let your head fall against your headrest.

“I’m sorry that he did that.” Wonwoo’s voice is gravelly, and you have to take a moment to calm yourself before speaking.

“It isn’t like it’s your fault. You do know that, right?” Wonwoo shrugs.

“It kind of is, though. The only reason he went up to you is because of me. Because he wanted to get under my skin.” Oh? You arch an eyebrow, turning your body to face him. The slit in your dress shifts ever so slightly, exposing your bare thigh. Wonwoo turns his head away from you, his cheeks heating.

“Why would he want to do that?” In your heart, you already know. The way the two of you easily slipped back into your old habits, the way he didn’t even hesitate to help you despite protesting that anyone would have done it. You knew, now, that he didn’t hate you. You just wanted him to admit it.

Wonwoo lets out a heavy sigh and rolls his head to look at you.

“You’re really gonna make me say it?” You nod, leaning your body across the center console to get close to him. You can tell he’s nervous, maybe embarrassed.

“You know me, Wonwoo. I always get what I want.” You grin and Wonwoo turns to look at you again and suddenly you’re aware that you aren’t dating him anymore. That it’s weird for you to be that close to him.

Your smile drops and you sink back into your seat. Wonwoo watches you, a frown replacing his previous smile.

“I’m— I’m so sorry.” You press yourself as close to your door as possible. “I shouldn’t have— I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” Wonwoo fights the itch in his brain that tells him to grab your hand and place a kiss on the back of it. He hadn’t realized just how enchanted with you he was until he saw you across the room for the first time in ten years. He hadn’t realized how much he’d missed having you pulled against his side, although you fit much better now that he’d filled out and grown into his body. Wonwoo hadn’t missed the way your breathing hitched when he pulled you against him, hadn’t missed the dazed look in your eye when he looked down to ensure that you weren’t hurt. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“I just— I shouldn’t have touched you like that—”

“Y/N,” Wonwoo cuts you off. “You did nothing that I didn’t want you to do.” Your mouth snaps shut, and you look at him with wide eyes. He takes a deep breath. Here goes nothing. “I…I still— fuck this is harder than I thought it would be. For a songwriter, you would think I’d know how to confess that I’m still enchanted by you.” He laughs nervously, and when he turns to look at you, you’re smiling gently. You understand.

You stay quiet and then turn to him again. He’s facing you too, and your faces are inches apart.

“I was enchanted by you too, Jeon Wonwoo.”

And then your lips are on his, and it’s a searing kiss that leaves him breathless from the moment it starts. His hand rises to your cheek, gently pulling you even closer to him. Your hands wrap around the fabric of his shirt, and you whine when his tongue hesitantly prods at the seam of your lips.

You open your mouth for him, and his hand slides to tangle in your hair and pull you impossibly closer, nearly across the center console. He roams your mouth, his tongue licking at every inch, sliding against your own as if this was the last time he’d ever be able to kiss you. Your hand slides down, tracing down to his tie, then to his abdomen and you can feel the muscles tightening wherever your nails trace.

Your hand trails even lower, and you feel him freeze against you when you place your hand over his crotch. He forces himself to pull his lips from yours, a string of spit connecting your tongues, and his eyes flutter shut again when your hand squeezes lightly around his hard-on.

“Don’t do this to me,” he pleads. “I’m supposed to be a gentleman.” You smirk, raising your lips to his ear.

“What if I don’t want you to be?” A gentle kiss was placed to the corner of his jaw, and his grip on your hair tightened to the point of near painful. This draws a whimper out of you, right in his ear. He pulls you back, not harshly but enough for your jaw to drop.

“Tell me you’re sure,” he practically begs. “Tell me that this isn’t going to be a one-time thing, that you want me as much as I want you. Tell me that you aren’t in love with someone else, that there’s no one waiting for you at home.”

Tell me you love me.

Your hand slips to cup his cheek, your thumb brushing just under his eye.

“You know that you’ve always been it for me, Jeon Wonwoo.” You promise, and your lips are against his again. It’s sweeter than the first but still filled with ten years of words left unsaid. “Take me home.”

The moment Wonwoo locks the door to his apartment, you’re pressed against the wall with so much force you’re surprised there isn’t a hole in the shape of your body. His hands are on your hips, your thighs, your shoulders, and your chest. Every time he pulls away from your lips, he catches one between his teeth, nipping at the soft flesh before shifting his focus to your neck.

“Wonwoo,” your voice is shaking, your hand tangled in the dark strands of his once neatly styled hair. “Wonwoo, please?” Another hickey blooms across your neck, another on your shoulder, then your collarbone.

“Please what, baby?” He rasps, tugging the strap of your dress to the side until it slips down your shoulder and exposes more of your breast. “What do you need from me?” He slides the other strap down, and you gasp when his cold hands reach up and grab at the soft mounds on your chest.

“Wonwoo— Wonwoo, I—” Your brain has gone to mush the moment his mouth lands on your nipple, sucking at it and nipping at the bud. You breathe out soft moans, your hands struggling to move to the back of your dress to reach for the zipper.

It’s impossible to function with Wonwoo flicking his tongue against one nipple, his fingers kneading and twisting and pinching at the other. Your hands shake as you finally catch the zipper, yanking it down as quickly, yet gently, as possible.

Wonwoo pulls away from your chest, breathing heavily, eyes filled with nothing but lust. He examines your body, entirely nude from your choice to go braless and pantiless tonight, and his cock twitches in his slacks.

“God, you’re trying to kill me, aren’t you?” He hisses. You peer up at him with eyes so innocent, but you both know that isn’t the case. “Did you know I was gonna be there? Hm?” He grabs your chin in one of his large hands, yanking you toward his face until you’re struggling to even stand on your tip toes. “Did you know that I was gonna give in to you?”

“No— Wonwoo, I didn’t know—” His free hand collides with your ass and you cry out, stumbling toward him. “Fuck, Wonwoo!” His hand strikes your skin again, and a gush of arousal practically drips down your legs.

“I think you’re lying to me,” he hums thoughtfully. “Lying isn’t nice, you know.”

“I’m not lying— Oh, Wonwoo please—” His free hand has slipped down to your core, delicate fingers brushing against your sopping wet cunt. “Please touch me, please, I need it.”

“Yeah, baby?” One finger pushes between your folds, and your knees almost buckle. Your nails dig into his biceps, squeezing the taut muscle as he sinks two long, slender fingers into you. “Need it so bad, don’t you? Had you waiting for so long. Did you miss me, baby? Miss this?”

“Missed you so bad, Wonwoo,” you arch your back into him, your hips jerking against his fingers. He slips a third inside of you. “Miss— Missed the way you t-touched me.” He hums, curling his fingers up into you and you emit a desperate cry of his name. “Right there, Wonwoo! Fu—fuck, right there!”

“Tell me how much you missed me, pretty girl.” He continues to curl his fingers inside of you, watching you and enamored by the way your eyes roll back, the way your jaw is dropped, and the way your chest heaves. “Tell me how much you need me.”

“N-Need you so–o bad. No o-one makes me fe-feel this good— oh god,” you clench around his fingers, pulsing and dripping down his wrist. “No one el-se made me c-cum like you d-do.” A swell of pride in his chest, and his thumb presses hard against your clit. You spasm around him, your moans growing louder and higher in pitch. “So close, Wonwoo.”

“It’s okay baby,” he purrs, “you can let go. I’m here now, gonna make you feel good. Gonna make you so good, never gonna have to turn to anyone else again. Just let go.”

You spasm again, and your body sags as your orgasm rocks through you. Wonwoo has an arm around his waist, his other hand still working his fingers into you and easing you through your high.

It takes you a few minutes to come down, and by the time you do, Wonwoo has removed his shirt and kicked his shoes off. He’s watching you as you try to step forward, catching you when you stumble. You reach for the button of his slacks and he stops you, smiling when you pout.

“I’m not fucking you here, baby. You deserve to be fucked in an actual bed.” You let him guide you to his bedroom— correction try to guide you. It’s like you’re addicted to the taste of him, your lips practically gluing themselves to his biceps, licking and biting at the salty skin. You can feel every one of his breaths as he walks, and his pace picks up until he’s flinging open his bedroom door and shoving you in front of him. You stumble a bit, and he pushes you again so you fall face down onto his bed. Wonwoo isn’t far behind you, his body leaning over yours and his hand on the back of your neck and preventing you from pushing yourself up.

“Do you know how much I missed this? Being able to fuck you wherever, whenever, and however I wanted?” He hisses into your ear, and you feel his free hand slip down your back as he reaches for the button on his pants. His hips keep rolling into yours, and the little grunts and moans that he releases are almost enough to get you to cum again. “Do you know how hard it was to not imagine that I was fucking your sweet little cunt every time I found someone to spend the night with? No one matched up to you, sweet girl. No one got me to cum like you do, got me as hard as you do.” You whine when he kicks your ankles apart, your nails gripping the duvet for dear life.

When you feel his tip prodding at your entrance, it takes everything in you to not grind into him. He’s breathing heavily into your neck, slowly slipping in. Your body twitches and you fling your hand back, frantically searching for his own to squeeze and distract yourself from the pain of him stretching you out.

“So tight,” he presses his forehead against the back of your neck, his body shuddering. “Fuck, it’s like nobody has fucked since me.”

“N-nobody else felt as good as you,” you gasp out. “No one could stretch me out like you do. Just fuck me, please.”

“Gotta let you adjust, baby,” he argues. “Still got about half left.”

You whine again, jerking his arm in front of you and letting your face fall into it. He groans when your teeth sink into his skin, biting and sucking and gasping against him until you feel his hips connect with yours.

“You ready?” He rubs your back gently, and you frantically nod your head.

“Please, please, please, please—” His hips pull back and you release a guttural moan as he slams his hips into yours. Again and again and again and again. Every thrust sends the tip of cock full force into that soft, pleasurable spot inside of you and it feels so good, and he doesn’t stop. He doesn’t slow down, and you don’t ask him to. Your mouth has fallen open, a neverending stream of cries and moans and begging leaving your lips.

His hands reach forward, and you feel a finger hook into your mouth on either side. It stings, the stretch of him holding your mouth open, and you feel your back arch, his cock somehow hitting even deeper inside of you. Drool slips down your chin and it’s so nasty but you can’t form the words to stop him. The only things that leave your mouth are nonsensical babbling and you feel Wonwoo begin to rise, taking you with him. One of his hands leaves your mouth and slips down to the base of your throat, and the other’s thumb hooks into your jaw and holds your mouth open. His hand squeezes around your throat, and you squeeze around his cock

“You close, baby?” Wonwoo coos into your ear but you don’t have the brains to form words. Your hips press back into his, one of your hands slipping down to frantically rub at your clit. You’re clenching rapidly around him now, almost in time with when he pulls out of you and you can feel him twitching inside of you. “Gonna cum again?”

You try to tell him that, yes you’re so close and it feels so good and oh god Wonwoo please—

Your body shudders and a sound similar to a scream escapes you, your free hand gripping his forearm tightly and you can feel the skin tearing beneath your nails but neither of you cares as he pumps white-hot cum deep inside of you. His hips are still rolling, adding to the sensation of his cum inside of you. Your core begins to sting with overstimulation, and you try to pull away from Wonwoo with a whine. He just laughs, his hands settling on your waist and lowering you down onto the bed once his cock has softened.

Your back is against his in the tub and he’s running a soft cloth along your body, along the marks on your body and the bruises on your hips.

“You doing okay?” His voice is tender. “I know I was a little bit harsh on you.”

You chuckle. “Not like you haven’t done that before.”

You play with the suds that float in the water, humming quietly. Wonwoo takes a deep breath, letting his head fall back a bit.

“Why don’t you hate me?” You lean your head back on his chest, and he frowns at the question.

“Why would I hate you?”

A shrug and you drop your arms into the water.

“I threw away a nearly perfect relationship just because someone said you’d drop me the moment you found someone better in the idol industry.”

“So?” Wonwoo traces shapes into the skin of your thigh. “That’s not your fault. I get that it was scary. Neither of us knew what was gonna happen, you were already stressed about how things were gonna work with you being in college. I’m not gonna blame you or hate you for that choice. What matters is that we found each other again.”

Your cheeks heat up and you turn your body around in the tub to sit on his lap. He looks up at you with nothing but pure adoration in his eyes.

“Did you mean what you said?” You ask. He raises an eyebrow. “In the hallway. That I’d never have to turn to anyone else. Are we gonna…” Your voice trails off and Wonwoo raises his head to place a gentle kiss on your lips.

“I meant every single word I said tonight. I’m here to stay, Y/N.” His nose nudges against yours. “I was enchanted from the moment I met you, and I want to be yours again if you’ll let me.”

You play with the strands of his hair, smiling like a madman.

“And I meant everything I said as well,” You let your forehead rest against his, your eyes falling shut. “I want you to stay with me. Please.”

Wonwoo exhales softly.

“Always. I will always stay.”

Taglist: @juyeonszn @leejihoonownsmyheart @nobraincellmode

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bvtbxtch · 2 years ago

Text

Angry Heart | Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader (Part 1: Prom Night)

Series Summary: Your best friend Chrissy Cunningham always got everything she ever wanted, even you new friend and crush Eddie Munson. When Chrissy does the unthinkable, Eddie is left to pick up the pieces alone... or is he?

Chapter Summary: You have finally started to find your own groove after accepting that Eddie and Chrissy were an item, and ultimately more into each other than you. But why do you still feel such a strong connection to Eddie? Why are you secretly wishing for their downfall? Everything comes to a head during your final high school play and the prom where a new friend makes Eddie rethink everything.

Pairings: Eddie Munson x Chrissy Cunningham, Eddie Munson x Reader (eventually), reader and Chrissy are friends but have a fallout. Minimal usage of Y/N

Series warnings: MDNI 18 +, Smut, fluff and angst (everything all rolled into one beautiful shit show), mentions of drugs and alcohol being consumed, overall adult language and theme. By clicking the read more, you agree that you are over 18! Ageless and minor blogs who interact will be blocked.

Word Count: 9k (I got excited)

A/N: Holy hell! I never thought that this series would get so much love just from the prologue. I thought this was going to take me the next week or so to write, but I whipped this puppy out in 2 days. Thank you thank you thank you for all of the support. Again, your feedback, reblogs and replies are so appreciated!

Prologue

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

April 1986

Falling in love with Eddie Munson was easy. He made it so incredibly simple. The spring production rehearsals were in full swing and you got the lead role. It meant long hours in the theatre with your favorite metalhead, sharing snacks, laughing at inside jokes and telling deep dark secrets. You had started to spend equal amounts of time at the Hellfire table, making quick friends with Jeff and Gareth, you grew to love and protect the freshmen as your own as well. Even though you had no interest in playing DnD with them, Eddie always invited you to sit in on their campaigns. Chrissy and the other jocks started to distance themselves from you on the days you would decide to sit with them, but it started to bother you less as you made more meaningful connections with people who liked you for you. The last 5 months caught you off guard. Things seemed like they were normal, better than normal even; until you went home alone after school and remembered that Eddie had someone else keeping his bed warm. Chrissy was there. Your best friend stealing your other best friend away from you and nobody knew.

Things between you and Chrissy were tense only on one end. The blonde always greeted you in the hallway and passed you notes in class, blissfully unaware of the heartache her new romance had caused you. But when you were in a group, she seemed to unconsciously take value to others in the group. Eddie and Chrissy had started their relationship in private, and you were their sworn protector. Even when you didn’t necessarily want them, you got all the gory details of how Chrissy let Eddie feel her up for the first time, or how Eddie is a lot more well endowed than many had previously thought. It killed you on the inside, but throwing yourself into the spring show gave you a healthy distraction. Cheer kept you just close enough to Chrissy to keep up the feeling that things were not falling apart between the two of you, but you could focus on what you needed to do on the field. It felt good to put effort into new friends and reignite passions, even though the love the two of your best friends shared would always take up a small residence in the back of your mind.

It was three weeks until prom. You were seriously considering not going, but you knew you would regret not going, so you decided that you would make an appearance, likely not a sober one, but you would show up. You waltzed past the posters in the cafeteria, and the ballot box being guarded by the student council, stationed around it like soldiers. You knew who would be winning each crown, there wasn’t even a point in voting for anyone else. You would be there to cheer Chrissy on for the third year in a row of winnings. Like clockwork, she would accept her crown, dance with whatever meathead got crowned king, and then help her fix her mascara that ran from her happy and “surprised” tears. You rolled your eyes thinking about it; but you were snapped out of your trance when you heard the blonde call your name. You reluctantly wave to her and the other ponytails looking expectantly at you and you start to cross the cafeteria. You are interrupted by a mop of light brown hair and a gleaming smile.

“Hey! I’ve been looking everywhere for you!” Gareth greets. You instantly relax as your new friend puts his arm over your shoulder and leads you to the Hellfire table. You look over Gareth’s shoulder to see the cheer table staring daggers at you. Chrissy looks disappointed, and the rest of the table looks mildly disgusted. Chrissy understood why you would hang out with the freaks but she still didn’t necessarily approve. Your image was important to her as you continued to be associated with her. You look at Chrissy apologetically, but happily turn and walk with Gareth.

“It’s good to see you, Gareth” you smile up at him.

“How are rehearsals going? You getting excited for the big show?” He remembered, and he seemed genuinely interested.

“Yeah I guess so! I’m sort of ready for it to be over so we can push through exams and get out of here.”

You slide out your usual chair at the hellfire table, across from Gareth and beside Eddie at the head of the table.

“I thought you were eating with Chrissy today?” Eddie questions.

“Good to see you too, Ed…” you mumble.

“No, it’s just… I wanted you to see if anyone had asked her to prom yet” Eddie leaned over and whispered to you.

Gareth rolled his eyes. Eddie had recently let him in on his secret relationship with Chrissy, since he was missing or late to more and more hellfire meetings and had been mentally absent during their band practices. He needed someone else within the group to be able to cover for him when you couldn’t, and Eddie trusted Gareth with his life.

“Why the hell wouldn’t she be going with you?” you snorted. You knew that Eddie and Chrissy weren’t necessarily public, but you would never think that she would brush him off like that.

“I don’t know… because I’m well… me” Eddie looked to the ground. You grabbed his hand and he instantly turned red. Your skin burned when you touched him. It felt like it had been so long since you had any physical contact which made you feel empty. Eddie was always one to give you a hug, or hold your hand or pick you up and carry you down to the theatre when you were running late. He was a tactile person and it took you until now to realize how much you really missed the way things were.

“Eddie Munson you listen to me, anyone would be lucky to go to prom with you” You turned pink as you reassured him. Gareth noticed and tried to hide his smirk underneath his hands. You kicked him under the table. You wish you were the lucky person that he would take, but you know that he would soon rather die than be seen with anyone else but Chrissy.

“ I don’t know” Eddie questions as he shyly pulls his hand away from yours. Both of you felt cold after the loss of contact. “I just really like her and I really want her to be with me, you know, not in secret… sometimes I think she’s ashamed of me.”

“Well, that’s her problem then, isn’t it?” Gareth snaps. He was so tired of watching Eddie stomp all over your heart when he knew that Chrissy was going to do the same to him eventually.

Both yours and Eddie's heads snapped to look at him. He was never one to question anything from Eddie, but he looked bothered. He stood up and left the table without a word.

“What’s up with him?” You chide. Eddie shrugs and picks at his pretzels.

“Hey, I was wondering if you could give Chrissy a note for me? I think I’m gonna ask her to go to prom with me today.”

“Ed, shouldn’t you just go up and talk to her? She’s your girlfriend for fucks sake.” You were getting sick of being put in the middle. Neither of them understood how much their romance crushed you.

“Whatever, I thought you would wanna help me, seeing as you’re my best friend and all, but I’ll just humiliate myself then”. He shoved his chair backwards and with a huff, he stormed out of the cafeteria. Eddie was always one for theatrics. Usually it was entertaining, but this felt more like a toddler’s temper tantrum. You rolled your eyes and flipped him off as he left.

Eddie’s departure caught the eye of Chrissy. She looked at you quizzically and you gestured for her to follow him and rolled your eyes. She discreetly got up and trotted out the exit Eddie had just used. The back exit opened up to the field outside. You could see Eddie’s figure heading out to the bleachers - the place where you often went to to get out of O'Donnell's class, or smoke after a particularly stressful rehearsal. But it wasn’t sacred to you two anymore. It was their spot now. You could see Chrissy’s figure following behind him. You took the rest of Eddie’s pretzels and ate them with a huff.

The final night of the play was here. Your last hurrah as the lead and the last show you may ever be a part of. Hawkins for sure does not have a thriving theatre community, so who knows what other opportunities you might have. You didn’t want this to be the last time though, it made your heart hurt and you wished this night would never end. You had spent your time before curtain warming up with Eddie. He could tell you were nervous.

“Sweetheart, I am telling you, you have nothing - and I mean nothing to worry about. You have been crushing this whole show run. All you have to do is go on stage and do your thing! And if anything bad happens, I tell the booth to blackout and I cut your mic!” he giggles. You didn’t find it as funny. You paced back and forth across the small stage, arms shaking and your breath hitching. None of your friends had been there to see your performance yet. You weren’t expecting many people, at least Chrissy, but she hadn’t said a word about your show or if she was coming. You pacing was driving Eddie wild. He hated seeing you so bothered.

“Y/N just relax” Eddie grabbed you by your shoulders and your whole body went stiff. Your breath caught in your chest and your heart sank to the floor. You could feel his breath on your face; you hadn’t been this close in a long time. Without being able to help yourself, your eyes flicker from his to his lips. All you would have to do is lean up and your mouth could be on his. His gaze lowered to your lips as well. You wanted to give in so badly, you wanted to kiss him, to feel like his again - but you couldn’t do that to your friend. You broke his contact and took a step back. Eddie cleared his throat and looked at you expectantly.

“Did Chris say when she was coming to the show?” You ask, clearing your throat in an attempt to clear the thick, tense air. Eddie’s gaze went from soft and longing to hardened. Eddie looked to the floor and shifted his weight.

“I-uh I don’t know… I haven’t talked to her in the past couple of days.” Your eyes doubled in size.

“What do you mean? What happened that day after lunch?”

“I don’t want to talk about it” Eddie turned to stalk back behind the wings of the stage. You pulled his arm back and turned him towards you.

“Eddie, please. What happened?”

“She said she didn’t want to go to prom with me, okay? Are you happy now? Is that what you fucking wanted to hear?” His voice boomed through your skull. His eyes were glassed over, dangerously close to spilling tears, like yours have already started to do. He had never talked to you like that.

“Wha-what do you mean?”

“Oh don’t be so naive. You’re fucking happy that Chrissy doesn’t want to be seen with me. This is what you wanted the whole time, right?

“What the fuck are you talking about?” you whisper to him, tears free flowing. “Why the fuck are you coming at me now when you just wanted to kiss me? I know you felt that too and you can’t deny that to me” You yell at him with a shove. You were shaking. You wanted to pour your heart out to him now, tell him how angry you were and admit that maybe you were happy that things weren’t picture perfect for them. But it wasn’t worth it now.

“You know what, Eddie? You both deserve each other. Have a great show” you turn away from him, panting. You felt like you were going to fall to the ground because your legs felt like jello. Eddie grabbed you by the shoulders. You both looked into each other's eyes, glassy with emotion. For the first time in what seems like forever, you could not tell what Eddie was thinking. His eyes clouded with conflict, with anger, but with something else you couldn’t quite decipher. His lips quivered and his cheeks were flushed.

You felt like your head was going to explode. What was going on? You felt like all of your weight, your body and soul were all dependent on Eddie holding you up. In one swift movement he pulled you in and his lips were on yours. Your whole body tensed, your eyes remained on his face. It was so wrong. This wasn’t supposed to happen like this. But as much as your mind was screaming at you, his lips felt perfect on yours, like they were made to be there. Your heart was on fire and you felt like you might crumble into tiny pieces. But this is not how it was supposed to be.

You pull away and look at him. His eyes were beautiful. The glow of his chocolate irises were back. He looked at you like you were his world, but he looked guilty.

You slapped him across the cheek. You turned around and you paced back to the dressing room, leaving Eddie there with a burning cheek and a hole in his own heart. He walked backstage.

“Fuck!” He yelled and punched the cinderblock wall, making his knuckles bleed. He trudged back up to the booth to prepare for the show, the feel of your lips on his lingered on his like a tattoo.

You took your final bows with heavy applause. Your heart felt warm and finally you felt like things were falling into place for you. The stage is where you belonged and where you felt the most like yourself. You had almost forgotten that you were standing in the very spot where Eddie Munson kissed you for the first time three hours prior. He shouldn’t have done that. You shook the memory out of your head. He didn’t matter right now, this was your time. You gestured up to the booth for their applause and there your gaze met Eddie’s. He was beaming, both dimples showing from the sides of his cheeks. For a moment, you saw your proud best friend. You saw the boy you made friends with in seventh grade art class and you saw the boy that came and knocked on your door to see if you wanted to go to the arcade with him. You beamed back at him, in hopes that he felt those same feelings as well. You eyes cast down to the audience and you searched for the other face you were so wishing to see. Chrissy was nowhere to be found. Instead, you saw another mop of shorter dusty brown curls and four other hellfire shirts to accompany him. Gareth whooped when you took your final bow. Your heart soared. You finally found your moment.

The Hellfire club waited for you in the hallway outside of the auditorium. Jeff and Gareth each wielding bouquets of flowers to give you. The freshmen were buzzing about the performance. You ran to them and embraced them in a big group hug. You thought your face was going to break from how wide you were smiling.

“Holy crap, Y/N! You were amazing!” Mike gushed.

“That actually made me regret not going to more plays here” Gareth laughed and handed you the bouquet in his hands.

“Thanks guys. I am so happy you’re here” You were so relieved to be telling the truth from the bottom of your heart. It seemed like forever since you could be totally honest with yourself.

“Dude, we wouldn’t have missed it” Jeff offered his bouquet to him and you gave both older boys kisses on the cheek.

“Did I ever tell you guys that you’re the best?” You exclaimed, while you brought them in for another group hug.

“I’m just gonna run and grab my things from the dressing room and then we should go grab something to eat! I am starved!” You turned and trotted towards the stage door.

“Hey, Y/N wait!” Gareth ran up to your side

“What’s up?” Gareth shifted his weight and looked to the floor.

“I want you to know that we - I think you’re great.”

“Thanks, Gareth” you wrapped your hand around his wrist and gave it a squeeze.

“You deserve better than you’re getting, sweetheart.” Your smile faltered.

“What do you-”

“You know what I mean, Y/N…” Gareth implored. You nod.

“I know that I am not your first choice, but I was wondering if you wanted to go to prom together? I promise I am not in like love with you or anything, and I want to go with you as a friend, but I don’t want to see you go alone, or worse go with friends you don’t like or don’t show up at all because I think you could win pro-” You cut Gareth off by giving him a tight hug and when you pull away you give him a kiss to his cheek. Your eyes wet with gratitude.

“Gareth, I would love to go to prom with you” Gareth lets a long breath out and laughs.

“Okay, great. That’s really great… cool” You squeezed his shoulder and turned towards the door again.

“I’m gonna go grab my stuff and then we can talk more about plans over some food” You offered.

“Okay cool! Awesome! And Y/N? We’re all really proud of you. You shone out there.”

Gareth retreats back to the group to wait for you. Eddie had now joined the group, his face looked hardened. Why did you just give Gareth a kiss on the cheek? He knew, like him, that you were a tactile person. You showed your appreciation in physical ways, but he had never seen you be so close to Gareth. It bothered him more that it should. “What was that about?” Eddie interrogated.

“Nothing man, I was just congratulating her.”

“Did she say anything about me?” Eddie pressed.

“...No? Why would she?” The rest of the group snickered at Gareth’s remarks. Eddie turned away. Not only was his mind racing, desperate to talk to you, but now he was embarrassed in front of his own group of friends. He couldn’t take being in the same room with you right now. He needed time to think.

“Alright, I’m going then.” Eddie stalked off to the double doors.

“Wait! You aren’t going to come out to celebratory dinner with us?” Dustin whined.

“Not this time. I got shit to take care of” Eddie retorted.

“Probably another hot secret date” Jeff poked at Gareth and they both laughed.

Eddie grumbled as he turned and opened the door to the parking lot, a cigarette already out of his pocket and in his mouth. He needed to find Chrissy.

It was 11:36pm. Chrissy had gotten home just an hour ago from an outing with Tiffany and Sarah. Her stomach was in knots, she was afraid her reputation was slipping. They had both made a comment about you sitting with the Hellfire club recently and she instantly went into defensive mode. She couldn’t handle them talking shit about you, her best friend and her boyfriend. The girls grilled Chrissy about why she had been being so nice towards the Hellfire seniors and started to put two and two together.

“Oh my god, did that Freak Munson put a spell on you or something when you went for that deal?” Sarah sneered.

“Holy shit! That would make sense as to why Y/N is spending so much time with him too. I heard she sucked his soul out of his-”

“Okay enough!” Chrissy boomed. She could feel her chest caving in. She hated hearing people talk about you that way, but she hated the idea of you and Eddie being together even more.

“He was really sweet and friendly to me when I went over to his trailer. He seems like a really nice guy. And Y/N is one of us, she wouldn’t do that with him.” Tiffany and Sarah sat with their mouths ajar, unwilling to believe that Chrissy would ever talk back to them like that.

“Oookay, Chris. Didn’t know you were like, in love with him” Tiffany teased.

“Ugh, as if. Let’s just drop it…” Chrissy mumbled.

She couldn’t sacrifice her already jeopardized reputation by being seen in the auditorium, where both you and Eddie would be. She wouldn’t be able to help herself around him. Her feelings towards the metalhead, although still conflicted, were growing stronger. She didn’t know how much longer she could hold out in keeping this a secret if she was going to actively be seen in public with him.

She had plopped onto her perfectly made bed with a new Danielle Steele novel when she heard a knock at her window. She looked up and her face contorted into the most beautiful look of surprise to see her favorite curly haired metalhead at the window. He looked like he lost his lucky DnD dice. She opened the window quickly and stood out of the way to let him stumble into her room.

“Eddie? What’s wrong, darling?”

“Are your parents home?” he grabbed her waist and began to back her into her wall.

“Ummm no, they’re out” Chrissy breathed. Eddie pressed his lips to her neck, moved his right hand up her torso as his left hand flicked the lock on her door.

You had tried to call Chrissy a few times after you had returned from the diner with the hellfire club. You were hurt and wanted to know where she had been. But most importantly, you wanted to tell her what happened between you and Eddie. Although you also felt your friendship slipping, this was something you couldn’t keep from her. You had showered your show hair and makeup off and had gotten yourself into comfortable pjs. The flowers the boys had got you sat neatly in a vase on your nightstand; they made you smile every time you looked at them. You had just closed your eyes and surrendered to sleep when your phone rang. You answered and you heard the cheery voice that you had been waiting for.

“Hey babe! How was the show?” So she did remember, but just decided not to show up.

“It was great Chris, but it would have been a lot better if you were actually there.” You tried not to sound angry, because in the long run, you really wanted her there. She hurt you more than made you mad.

“Yeah, I’m really sorry, I had this thing that I couldn’t get out of with Tiffany and Sarah. I’m sorry, you know I’ll be at the next one” She offered.

“What if that was the last one, Chris? You know what, I would rather not do this over the phone… Can I come over?”

“Oh.” Her voice dropped. “Yeah, Okay.”

“I’ll be there in 10.”

You knock on Chrissy’s door. Unlike her previous visitor, you knew you were always welcome at her house. She was quick to open the door. She looked perplexed, worried even. It wasn’t often that you saw her being anything but her shiny happy self. You knew something was very wrong. She knew too.

“Hi.” You offer

“Hi… come in” she opens the door wider to let you into her foyer. She holds her cardigan tight to her chest. You follow her up her stairs and into her bedroom. It felt so familiar but there was a tension that made this feel foreign. You sat yourself on the end of her bed while she perched herself on her vanity stool. Even though you were facing each other, you found it hard to make eye contact with each other.

“I need to tell you someth-”

“I feel like we need to-”

You both started talking at the same time and with an awkward chuckle, you stopped talking so she could speak.

“Eddie came over after the play” Chrissy whispered. You clenched your jaw.

“Oh, I couldn’t tell from the numerous hickies on your neck, Chris.” you poked. She wrapped her cardigan around her small frame tighter and kept her stoic expression.

“Eddie told me that you kissed him at the theatre” she said, her tone hard. You shook your head in disbelief.

“Is that what he really told you?” You pressed. She nodded her head, not being able to make eye contact with you.

“Huh. So what if I told you that he kissed me? That we had a fight over the fact that you won’t be seen in public with him? That he accused me of being happy that my two best friends in the whole fucking world were destroying each other, all while they pretend that I don’t exist anymore and just keep shitting on each others’ feelings, leaving me in the middle of this whole mess?” you started to raise your voice. You couldn’t believe that Eddie would ever lie about what happened, and you really couldn’t believe that Chrissy would believe him.

“That sounds like a real easy way to shift the blame, Y/N. You kissed my boyfriend” Chrissy snaps, tears threatening to spill.

“Bullshit, Chrissy! He kissed me! And I still don’t fucking know why! He kissed me, I pulled away, I slapped him in his stupid fucking face and I left.” You screamed. Your tears flowing freely. This had been the single most confusing night of your life. You thought that the two people you loved the most couldn’t betray you more than they already had.

“Well, that’s not the story that Eddie told me” She whispered.

“Yeah… it seems like Eddie told you that story all over your body, Chrissy” she gasped and lunged for her bedroom door. Your face twisted in disgust. He used you because he was mad at Chrissy, and the he used her to lessen the blow.

“Get out.” She sobbed.

“You tell me to leave right now, you are telling me that you believe Eddie’s word over mine - fuck, not even Eddie’s, a stupid fucking boy over my word. Me. Your best friend. The one who has been there for you since forever.” The air was thick. Both of your eyes were red and chests heaving.

“I do. I believe him.” Chrissy gasped.

You cackled as you stood up. You huffed out of her room and bound down her stairs. You opened and slammed her front door shut and climbed into your car. You sped out of her driveway and rounded the corner. When you got out of eyeshot from her house, you turned off your car, slammed your hands on your steering wheel and screamed at the top of your lungs.

You wanted to go see Eddie. You wanted him to tell you that it would all be okay. You wanted him to wipe your tears away and you wanted him to hold you with the same passion he did at the theatre. You wanted him to kiss you and tell you that you were right and she was wrong; but you also knew that she would be calling him right now and she would be getting the comfort you so desperately needed. You turned your ignition and started back to your house.

The next weeks of school seemed to bleed together. You felt numb. You had no play, no Chrissy and no Eddie. Every other day, Gareth would meet you in the library to eat lunch with you. You were so thankful for his friendship. You didn’t have the heart to tell him what happened with Eddie and Chrissy; knowing that it would cause yet another rift within their tight group. He also thought that it was best to keep the fact that the two of you were going to prom together between the two of you to prevent the same thing; But, he knew that Chrissy had pushed you to the side. You had secretly thought that she was waiting for a reason to ditch you as a friend, seeing as you weren’t what Chrissy envisioned as a perfect person to put on her social resume. You knew that the cheer girls were starting to treat her differently because you were friends and you didn’t subscribe to the jock way of life. Gareth was there to listen through it all, and although your heart was broken, it was comforting to know that you still had a friend that was willing to help you put the pieces back together. You were grateful that one of the biggest nights of the year was going to be spent with him.

May 1986

Your preparations had begun as prom week came. You took Gareth shopping for a new shirt and tie.

“Are you sure I don’t need like, a tux or something?” he questioned.

“Do either of us look like we are fancy or rich enough to be tux people?” you joked.

“Fair enough.”

“You are going to look awesome in whatever we find!” you praised. Gareth beamed back at you.

You walked through starcourt mall arm in arm. The sting from the past couple of weeks had become a dull ache and you started to appreciate the little things again. You had been bold enough to take your seat at the hellfire table last Friday and although Eddie looked at you quizzically, he didn’t say anything. It seemed like there was a silent agreement between the two of you, that you were both going to put what happened at the show behind you. As much as you both wanted to though, neither of you could forget. You both remembered each time you looked into each other’s eyes. Your conversations had begun to pick up again, they were surface level and short, but you were happy for the small sense of normalcy. You wondered if Chrissy did tell Eddie about the conversation the two of you had. But in your growth you decided that you didn’t need to know that, and worrying over it was just going to cause you more stress than it was worth.

As you and Gareth passed through the food court, a pair of chocolatey brown eyes fixed on your figure. Eddie had posted up at the mall with Steve Harrington, the former King of Hawkins High and adult friend to many of the Hellfire freshmen.

“Dude, you gotta relax.” Steve warned. Eddie’s jaw had instantly tightened and his body had stiffened when he had seen you and Gareth walking through the mall. Why the hell were you out with him?

“Why is she here with him? Why is she holding him like that?” Eddie sneered.

“Is… Is Eddie Munson Jealous? I thought you were boning the hottest girl in school?”

“Yeah boning. But we’re also dating and she doesn’t want anyone to know that”

“Shit, dude” Steve gulped.

“Yeah… Shit.” Eddie wished he had natural charm like Steve. Maybe it would make it easier for Chrissy to like him. He hated that he was questioning his whole person because of a stupid girl. But he really thought that he liked her. But how could she like him if she didn’t even want to be seen in public with him. Eddie ran his fingers through his hair, frustrated, overwhelmed and wanting to burn starcourt mall down if it meant that you wouldn’t be here with Gareth anymore.

You found Gareth a satin button up shirt and he stole a lavender bowtie that matched the color of your dress. You were finally laughing and joking faintly like you used to. It made Gareth’s heart soar. He cared greatly for you, but knew that your heart belonged to Eddie. It never stopped belonging to him, even if you told him repeatedly that you didn’t have feelings for the Hellfire leader. Even though he was hoping you weren’t going home with him on prom night, Gareth was more than happy to be taking you.

Tonight was the night. Eddie was sure that everyone in his graduating class was stirring with anticipation and excitement for what was going to be the best night of their lives. Eddie wasn’t as optimistic. He had put on his best black jeans (the ones with no holes in them) and was sitting on his bed, lazily strumming his guitar with a lit joint hanging out of his mouth while he waited for his wet curls to come to life. He didn’t want to go anymore. Chrissy had ensured the fact that she was going with Jason Carver meant nothing but keeping up appearances and that she would save a dance with him once she was crowned prom queen. Eddie felt like a charity case and had been feeling so increasingly often lately, Chrissy only daring to talk to him through notes left in his locker, or going to their hiding spot during their class breaks. Eddie was sure that he wanted to be in love with her. But when he kissed Chrissy, it didn’t feel like it did when he kissed you. He was so confused. Your relationship was finally amicable again, and he had the girl that he had been chasing after for years. But he was scared to see you tonight because he was worried he was going to mess everything up. He could be in love with Chrissy, but it seemed like Chrissy might not love him back. But maybe you did. Eddie let out a loud groan and flopped back onto his bed. He finished his joint and put on his burgundy dress shirt and put his arms through his vest. He put on his freshly polished rings and toed on his reeboks. He reluctantly started his van and began his drive to Hawkins High.

Gareth picked you up at 7 o’clock sharp. You answered the door with a bright smile and his face lit up the dusk behind him.

“Wow, girl. You look amazing!” Gareth looked you up and down. Your lavender sleeves landed just off of your shoulders, highlighting the pearls that rested on your collar bone. Your tiered skirt flowed and shimmered beautifully with the light.

“Says you! I told you you didn’t need to get a tux!” you slap him on the shoulder. To your surprise Gareth had showed up in a full tuxedo, sporting the shirt and tie the two of you had picked out.

“Yeah I know but my mom was so excited that I was going that she went out and bought me one anyway” You both laughed as you turned to take your polaroid camera off of the entryway table.

“Let's take a picture to commemorate the occasion” you tease. The two of you place your cheeks together and smile for the camera. The light flashes and you both giggle. You were so excited to be spending an evening with your friend.

“Jeff gonna meet us there?”

“One step ahead of you!” You heard from Gareth’s truck. Jeff stuck his head out of the back and gave you a huge smile and a wave. You laughed as you closed the door behind the two of you. Tonight was going to be a good night.

Chrissy had stationed herself at Tiffany’s directly after school to prepare for what was going to be the best night of her life. Sarah had snuck a bottle of champagne from her mother’s wine cellar and by 6pm, Chrissy could feel her own pulse in her head. She felt beautiful, she looked beautiful, but even her baby pink slip dress could not hide the insecurity on her face. The stakes were high and all she wanted was everything to go the way she wanted. Her glossed lips sank another flute of champagne while they waited for Jason and his posse to show up in the limo.

When you arrived, the Hawkins gym was decorated with tinsel and adorned with snack and drink tables on the opposite side of the stage. Your stomach fluttered at the excitement of being at your senior prom with some of the people you loved the most. You grab some punch and you Gareth and Jeff sit. Your head was on a swivel looking for a beautiful blonde, or a mop of brown curls, but to no avail. You took a big sigh and shook out your hands. Tonight was going to be a good night, you repeated to yourself. No one was going to ruin this for you.

“Wanna dance?” Gareth held his hand out to you. You gladly grabbed it and let him sweep you out to the dancefloor. He spun you and you laughed. Any thoughts of anyone else dissipated as you laughed and danced with your best friend.

Chrissy entered the gym in awe, teetering on her pumps, and brain fuzzy from the champagne. It was her night for a win and she knew that. She walked arm in arm with Jason, a smile plastered wide and eyes full of expectation. Her eyes faltered when she saw you smiling and laughing with your date, she didn’t remember his name. She longed to give you a hug and apologize. She wanted to dance and laugh with you, but she knew that now wasn’t the time. She needed to focus. Tonight was her night.

Eddie trudged into the gym, head already aching from the synth pop being played out of the large speakers. He grabbed a small flask out of his back pocket and took a swig. He sauntered over to the punch bowl and grabbed a cup, eyes scanning for two women. He found neither. Who he did find was his hellfire clubmates sitting at a table on the outskirts of the gym. Eddie tramps to them.

“Who let the freshmen in here?”

“Your guess is as good as mine” Jeff offers as he shakes Eddie’s hand “Looking good Ed. I didn’t know you even knew what a dress shirt was”

“Ha ha… I feel like shit. How long do we have to be here for?” Eddie whines

“Dude no one is making you stay! So have some fun with your friends would you?” Dustin scolds. Eddie scowls as he sinks into a chair at the round table. He immediately senses your absence. He looks around inquisitively.

“Where’s Y/N?” He asks. Jeff nods towards you on the dancefloor and Eddie’s heart stops. You looked absolutely radiant. He felt his hands get clammy and his chest got tight. You looked so happy and carefree. He missed seeing you like this, his girl the way he remembers you the best. He smiles to himself when he hears you laugh.

“Gareth, stop spinning me, I'm gonna throw up!”

His smile faded. Gareth? You were here with Gareth? He saw the mop head holding your hands and laughing with you. Suddenly, Eddie felt sick to his stomach. He could feel his pulse in his ears and he saw red. Jeff saw Eddie’s gaze harden.

“Eddie, don’t.” Jeff warns. “She’s having a really good time.”

Eddie didn’t respond. He took the flask out of his pocket and took a long swig. As he put it away, he stood up, vision locked on your dancing figures. Jeff sighed and put his head in his hands. Dustin and Mike looked at him confused. Jeff shook his head at them, implying that they didn’t want to know.

Eddie sauntered up to Gareth and grabbed his shoulder. Your smile faded as Gareth turned around to face Eddie.

“Hey, can we talk?” Eddie seethed through gritted teeth. Gareth looked at you apologetically.

“I’ll be right back okay?” He squeezed your hand and let Eddie guide him out of the gym. You were left in the middle of the dancefloor, too stunned to move or say anything. Dustin came to your side and asked if you wanted to sit back down with the club. You nodded, dazed, but followed after the two boys into the hallway instead.

Eddie pushed Gareth into the hallway and grabbed onto his lapels. You ducked around the corner so you were within earshot and close enough to help Gareth if he needed it.

“What the fuck are you doing Gareth?”

“What are you talking about, Munson?” Gareth pushed Eddie off and he began to smooth out his jacket.

“Why are you here with her?”

“What, like you were going to ask her to go with you?” Gareth challenged. Eddie looked at him dumbfounded. “Look, Eddie. If you really cared about her, you would let her have a good time tonight. You’re too busy with Chrissy lately anyway so I don’t know why this is suddenly such a big deal…”

Eddie clenched his fists and stalked towards Gareth. You covered your mouth to prevent the two from hearing your gasp.

“That’s my girl… you’re here with my-”

“Oh shut the hell up, Munson! She’s not your girl! Your girl is here with Jason fucking Carver. The guy that has been tormenting us for fucking years! Get your head out of your ass and stop playing with Y/N. She isn’t yours.” Gareth yelled. Eddie wracked out a sob and turned away from his friend. Gareth’s stomach sank and he watched his friend unravel in the hallway.

“I didn’t ask her here romantically, Eddie.” Gareth offered. “I care about her a lot, but I know that she doesn’t like me. I know exactly who she wants to be here with.” Gareth bores into Eddie, only hoping that their conversation will knock some sense into him. You slip back into the gym and sit with the hellfire club, mind racing thinking about what you just heard.

“If you’ll excuse me, I am going to continue to keep having fun with my friend.” Gareth stepped closer to Eddie and clapped him on the shoulder. “Get your shit together, Munson, and then try and enjoy yourself for once.” With that, Eddie was left alone in the hallway. He pulled at the roots of his hair, and let a string of profanities leave his mouth. It was better than punching a wall like last time.

Gareth returned to the gym and sat next to you with a smile, reassuring you everything was fine. Gareth whispered in your ear, telling you he wasn’t going to let anyone ruin this night for you or him and that it was time to have fun and forget about everything happening outside of this night. You couldn’t agree more. You wrapped your arms around his neck and gave him a thankful hug. He laughed as the two of you positioned yourselves towards the stage as the principal announced the prom king and queen would be crowned shortly.

Eddie slithered back into the gym, his arms crossed and a grimace glued on his face. He saw Chrissy and although his heart should have skipped a beat, it did nothing. She looked beautiful, gorgeous even. But she wasn’t you. But you made it clear, and Gareth made it clear. You weren’t his and you didn’t owe him anything. You deserved to have a good night and as much as he wanted to take you away and drive off with you, he knew that couldn’t happen. So he would settle for his dance in secret, and the potential for some action after Chrissy got her ten minutes of fame.

As the microphone squealed and the gym quieted, Chrissy shifted in her chair restlessly. Her dress felt too tight, and Jason felt too close. She wanted the boy that made her feel the prettiest. She wanted the boy who would do anything for her to be beside her. She wanted to dance with the boy who told her that he adored her. Her eyes scanned around the gym and she saw him lingering against the back wall. She sent him a wave as she smiled brightly. He waved back but his smile didn’t reach his eyes. She thought she knew why he was so upset. He hated seeing her with Jason. She was starting to hate being here with Jason too. When Jason was called for prom King, he patted Chrissy on the thigh, gave her a kiss on the forehead and sauntered up to the stage to receive his crown. Chrissy felt like she was going to be sick. This was the single most important moment to her. Principal Higgins held a white envelope in his hands.

“And this year’s prom queen is…” He fumbled with the envelope.

You were rooting for Chrissy. You knew that you didn’t need to be, but there was part of you that was longing for your old friend back. Maybe her winning prom queen would bring her back from her orbit.

“Chrissy Cunningham”

Chrissy opened her perfectly glossed lips into a gasp. She stood timidly and strutted to the stage to accept her crown and flowers. She flashed a beauty pageant smile and wave and sobbed a thank you to the gym. You could tell that she was definitely not sober. You worried for her, but this was also your night. She was Jason’s problem, not yours. It gave you a small bit of relief to see Eddie was not in a matching baby pink getup to the blonde’s. They didn’t come here together. You knew you shouldn’t be holding out hope, but the scene he caused on the dancefloor and now this, you couldn’t help but be a bit hopeful.

Once Chrissy and Jason took a bow as king and queen, the DJ had spun a slow song. Gareth offered you his hand again and you happily accepted it. Dancing with Gareth had been the most fun you have had in a while. You both went to the dancefloor and dramatically rocked each other back and forth.

Chrissy left the stage and as Jason went to grab her to dance with her, she tossed her flowers to him and trudged across the gym in Eddie’s direction. Jason looked back to his posse confused, he followed Chrissy’s bouncy curls to the opposite end of the gym.

Eddie nursed his flask as dancers started to repopulate the space. He saw you get up with Gareth. He scoffed and took another swig of his flask. When his eyes returned to the mass of students, he saw a pair of bright blue eyes bounding towards him. He stood in shock, not knowing what Chrissy was doing. When she reached the wall he was leaning against, she stuck out a perfectly manicured hand to him, her face set with determination. She led him to the middle of the dance floor.

“Chris, wh-what are you doing?” Eddie breathed

“Shut up, Munson. W-we are gonna d-dance:” she slurred.

“We don’t have to-” She stopped him in the middle of the gym and wrapped her arms around his neck. He could see Jason fuming behind her and he smirked down at her.

“You’re ready to stir the pot aren’t you, doll?” Eddie chuckled.

“Yeah, I’m r-r-ready to start some, some shit b-because I-I love you, E-Eddie Munson.” Her blue eyes bore into him. Did he really just hear her properly? He felt like there was only one right thing to say.

“I, I love you too, Chrissy,” Eddie hesitated. Before he could wrap his head around what had happened, Chrissy pulled his head down to hers and planted a searing kiss on him. He quickly returned her offer and swiped his tongue over her lips. She deepened the kiss. Eddie felt like he was floating, but it didn’t feel like it was a good feeling. Chrissy tasted sour like wine and Eddie’s head pounded. But feeling this was better than feeling nothing. It was better than the emptiness he felt when he saw you being held by someone else. He kissed Chrissy like no one was watching, while in reality all of the gym had directed their gaze to the world's oddest couple they could imagine.

You swayed Gareth back and forth, laughing so hard your stomach hurt and your face felt like the smile was never going to leave. Once your laughs subsided, you pulled Gareth in closely and rested your head on his shoulder. You closed your eyes and hummed in content.

“Thank you, Gareth. This has been such a great night”

“You’re welcome, Y/N. I am having so much fun with you” Gareth rubbed small circles into your waist as you turned slowly. You opened your eyes and you instantly stood up, your body tensing under Gareth’s touch.

“Hey, what’s wr-” Gareth turned to look behind him and saw the picture perfect way to ruin your night. Gareth stiffened and grabbed your hand. You didn’t want to look but you couldn’t avert your gaze. You felt like you were going to be sick. Gareth grabbed your hand and whispered in your ear.

“Let’s go get some fresh air, okay?” You nodded your head and let him lead you out of the gym.

As Eddie broke his kiss, the first thing he saw was you taking in their display. Then he saw you turn and leave the gym with Gareth’s hand in yours. Eddie grabbed Chrissy’s hand and kissed it and ran out of the gym after you.

You refused to let the tears fall. You didn’t want to ruin your night with Gareth and you didn’t want to give Eddie and Chrissy the satisfaction. Why would he look at you the way he did, why would he say those things to Gareth? Why would he call you his girl? Gareth could tell you were trying to process, so he squeezed your hand to ground you and remind you he was here for you.

“Y/N” you hear a familiar voice ring out. The voice you wanted to hear the most and the least. You turn to find Eddie standing in the middle of the empty hallway. Gareth gripped onto your hand tighter, a scowl setting on his face.

“What do you want, Eddie?” you manage to squeak out.

“I-I’m sorry” he huffed. “I’m so fucking sorry”

“For what, Eddie? For being defensive all night, telling Gareth that I’m your girl?” Gareth and Eddie both tensed. “For knowing that my heart fully belongs to you and you actively shitting on it? What is it?” You were angry. You deserved to be angry. This time, it was Eddie’s turn to cry. You walked towards him, cheeks growing hot. You came chest to chest with him when you heard the gym door fly open.

“E-Eddie, my love?” Chrissy giggled. She stopped when she saw the three of you in the hallway. “Oh no.” She murmured.

“Chrissy, go back inside. I’ll be there in a minute.” Eddie ordered. You scoffed and rolled your eyes. Tears are now dangerously close to ruining your makeup.

“Hmmmm, no. I think I wanna st-stay for this Teddy” she cooed. She stumbled towards him and threw her weight on him.

“Yeah, Teddy. She might want to stay for this.” you sneer. You could feel your blood heating up, your hand tightening on Gareth’s.”Why did you kiss me in the theatre?” You take a step back as Eddie opens his mouth to speak and closes it again. “Tell me it wasn’t because you were in love with me and I’ll walk away right fucking now.” you sniffle.

“He didn’t love you, babe. He only kissed you b-back b-because he f-f-felt bad for you. That’s what he told me” Chrissy hiccupped. Eddie looked at you, his eyes now freely flowing.

“Y/N… Please” Eddie begs. You laugh at him.

“Is that the truth Eddie? Is that how you really feel? Or is that what you told Chrissy to feel better about the fact that you kissed me, and you didn’t want to stop?” You spit.”Or was it what you told her to get in her pants without any punishment?”

“Please don’t do that” Eddie whispered. You start to back away with Gareth. Eddie tries to peel Chrissy’s arms off of his torso.

“I’m leaving right now Eddie and you have a choice to make. You can come with me and that will be enough of an explanation.” You stood strong and dropped your hand that was holding Gareth’s. He whispered your name softly. You turn to him and smile tightly to let him know that it was okay. You turn back to Eddie who stands still.

“Eddie, lets gooooo.” Chrissy whines.She began to pull his arm back towards the gym. His feet feel like they weigh a thousand pounds. He looks to you, completely heartbroken as your gaze hardens at the drunk prom queen hanging around his body. You chuckle as he lets Chrissy pull his body back towards the gym.

“Great. We’re done.”

You hear Eddie release a broken Sob as you grab Gareth’s hand and walk through the double doors.

Chrissy finally drags him back towards the bustling music and plastic tinsel of the gym. He felt like he could throw up. How could he just let you walk away?

Gareth opens his truck door open for you and helps you get seated in the passenger seat. He stands in between you and his truck door. He kissed your forehead and began to run his hand up and down your arm.

“Do you wanna go home, sweetheart?”

“You know what, a milkshake sounds really fucking great right now” you smile. Gareth laughs and you eventually join him.

“Milkshakes coming right up.”

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