#slight dumbass use of drugs and alcohol

[scoops-aboy86]

♠️♥️Famous Rockstar Eddie leaving the spotlight mysteriously and going off the radar for the next 10 years. Unbeknownst to the world, it was because he broke up with his then secret boyfriend Steve Harrington. Steve wanted to settle down, Eddie wanted to play for the world. The love never left but they both had dreams they wanted to pursue. Then very randomly he's spotted by paparazzi with a cute hubby, a wedding band on his finger, and 100lbs more than he had 10 years ago, enjoying brunch like he wasn't quote unquote "missing" to the public. 😂

Aww. I’m picturing a mostly amiable breakup… They’re both bummed to do it, but Eddie wants to leave and Steve wants to stay. It’s the 80’s, so no cell phones, no email… Much harder to keep up a long distance relationship. Both of them feel like they’re setting the other free. 

~

Cut to ten years later. Corroded Coffin made it big, and they’re coming up on the end of a tour that they’ve already said will be their last public appearance in a while. Gareth has a fiancé he wants to settle down with, Jeff is already married with a kid on the way, and Freak is thinking about going back to school for… something, he hasn’t decided what yet. 

Eddie is toying with the idea of doing a solo album or something, nothing big, but music is his life. It’s basically what he replaced Steve with after the breakup. He’s maybe leaned into food a little, especially during tours, but mostly burns it off with his on-stage antics. Over the years, he’s stuck pretty exclusively to hookups and situationships, nothing serious. As long as he has his music, everything’s fine. 

Which is why he’s dreading the end of the tour. After the second to last concert, right after they get to the next city, he does something he doesn’t usually do: he goes out and gets fucked up. (He saw what drugs and alcohol did to his parents when he was little and things were starting to fall apart, and No Thank You, but. It’s not bad if he only does it once, right? It’s fine.) 

The city happens to be Chicago. Eddie goes out, accepting just about anything anyone hands him like a moron… and wakes up having blacked out on everything except the vague impression of pop music blasted too loud for even his concert-hardened ears. The bed he’s in is comfortable in a very not-hotel-room sort of way and smells like the essence of a warm hug. He burrows into the blankets and pillows on the principle that maybe if he snuggles in deep enough he can hide from the raging hangover. 

It doesn’t work, of course, and a few minutes later he drags himself across the room on all fours to hurl his guts out into a waste basket. Which turns out not to have a liner. Oops. 

That’s when the door opens, and a mildly exasperated voice says, “Eds, seriously? I left you a bucket on your side of the bed.”

Blearily, Eddie turns and sees, of all people, Steve Harrington. Standing there in a yellow sweater and both hands on his hips like a blast from the goddamn past. He’s still handsome, still has the amazing hair, and the glasses he’s wearing lend a new kind of adult-ness to his face that hadn’t been there when he was twenty. He looks good. 

Eddie, meanwhile, feels like a stepped-on cockroach. It’s not fair. 

“Woke up facing this way,” Eddie rasps, but his heart leaps at the way Steve says your side. Like it’s still his. And it’s true, he does still prefer the left side of the bed, despite usually sleeping alone. “How are you… here? Where am I?”

Steve brings him a glass of water. “This is my apartment, I’ve been here for about three years now. I brought you here last night after you propositioned me because, and I quote, ‘You look just like the love of my fucking life that I walked away from like the dumbest idiot alive, wanna fuck and maybe marry me if my dick’s good enough? I’m kind of rich and famous, I could write so many songs about your eyes.’”

“Jesus H. Christ.” Eddie takes a sip of water, feeling like he might throw up again from embarrassment. “Did we…?”

“Nah, you passed out practically before finishing that second sentence. I carried you here to sleep it off, and answered your cell when Jeff called to check on you.” Steve, helping Eddie stand up at this point and guiding him back to the bed, raises an eyebrow. “He was extremely thorough in explaining that you don’t usually do things like this.”

Eddie groans. “Fuck… Is he sending a car or something? We’ve got a concert in… in… soon.”

“Two days,” Steve fills in easily. “Don’t worry, you have time to recover. I’ve made breakfast, if you think you can stomach it.”

Groaning again, Eddie face-plants into the pillows and realizes that wonderful scent is Steve and that’s why it was so nice when he first woke up. That smell still means home to him, even after a decade apart. “No, can’t do cereal and pop tarts right now.”

Steve snorts. “Excuse you, but one of us has learned to cook over the years and Jeff assured me it wasn’t you. There’s bacon, eggs, pancakes, and fresh strawberries. Vanilla ice cream in the freezer, too, if that still helps settle your stomach.”

“…It might,” Eddie mutters into the pillow. 

“Okay. Well, whenever you’re ready, there’s clothes at the end of the bed, and Advil and more water on the desk. I’m just going to, uh, take this basket out to the dumpster.”

Sorry, Eddie bites on his tongue to avoid saying. He’s just now realizing that he’s stripped down to his boxers and undershirt, which, like. Doesn’t even show off the coolest of his new tattoos. Not that that’s important, fuck, but it’s the first thing his hungover brain spits out about the whole situation other than, you know. 

The fact that he randomly ran into The Ex of All Time while so loaded he doesn’t even remember it happening. And Steve is acting like this is just normal even though they haven’t even been in contact for years. 

Eddie falls asleep while freaking out about this, and feels marginally more human by the time he wakes up. The clothes Steve left him are… Christ, it’s one of his old Metallica shirts, and the sweatpants that were technically Steve’s that Eddie had always stolen to sleep in, back when they were together. He doesn’t know how to feel about it. Stumbles his way out of the room to a bathroom, noticing along the way that the couch has a pile of folded blankets at one end. Because Steve probably slept there instead of his own bed. 

“Coffee?” Steve asks when Eddie finally puts in an appearance in the kitchen, passing him a mug that’s already doctored exactly the way he likes it. Eddie takes it and sips cautiously, but his stomach seems to have settled now and nothing bad happens, so he takes a longer, grateful gulp. 

The food is still waiting for him, kept warm in the oven with tin foil over the plates and heat set to low. Eddie sits down and feels something well up in his chest, in his eyes, at the first bite of scrambled eggs; it’s like eating clouds, they’re so damn fluffy. 

“‘S good,” he mumbles through a full mouth, then swallows and turns his tired eyes towards Steve. “I… I didn’t even know you’d moved to Chicago.”

Steve gives him an amused smile. “It wasn’t exactly news worthy of Rolling Stone, dude. Don’t worry about it.”

“Kinda have to,” Eddie mumbles, and jams bacon in his mouth. “I mean, I—Holy fuck, Steve, this is good. Are you a chef or something?”

The smile turns sheepish. “Sort of. It’s a long story, but I kinda teach cooking classes now? It’s a program for teens and preteens who’ve had trouble at home or with the law and need, like, better outlets that are also practical life skills. Robin’s girlfriend hooked me up, she teaches yoga and self-defense stuff at the same place.”

“Wow.” Eddie stares blankly at him for a second, before physically shaking off the surprise and looking back down at his plate. Steve had spent the past decade learning new skills and helping kids, whereas Eddie has written songs about sex, drugs, rock and roll, and… Steve’s eyes. “That’s great, Steve. You sound really happy.”

Because he does. And Eddie feels really, really bad about barreling accidentally back into Steve’s life, probably throwing a huge monkey wrench into it since there’s no way a guy this handsome and this good and this fantastic in the kitchen isn’t seeing anyone. He’d be snatched up in a second by any discerning man or woman with, like, eyes and a heart and taste buds. Which is what Steve deserves, really. He deserves someone who won’t run off at the first whiff of potential fame and fortune somewhere he can’t follow. 

“I do alright,” Steve replies modestly. 

“I’ll replace your waste basket,” Eddie blurts out. Because Steve deserves someone who doesn’t ever get fucked up enough to puke in and ruin his stuff, even if it’s not something he does regularly. “And, this is great, really, thank you for breakfast, but I should get out of your hair. I’m… sorry for ambushing you last night, or whatever it was I did, I can’t even remember—”

His hand is clenched around his fork so tight that his knuckles have gone pale, and he almost jolts out of his chair when Steve puts a hand over it, massaging his grip into loosening slightly. “First of all, I got that thing at Costco,” Steve informs him. “It’s not a big deal. Second, you didn’t ambush me. I mean, I was surprised, for sure, but… it was nice to hear that I’m still the love of your life.” Steve gives his hand a gentle squeeze. “Really nice, Eds. And third, you didn’t exactly walk away. You asked me to come with you, I was the one who wasn’t ready to leave Hawkins then. We agreed, remember?”

“Yeah,” Eddie says. He feels like careening back into Steve’s orbit now must count as some sort of violation of that agreement, or something… and yet Steve is still holding his hand. 

“I actually…” Steve hesitates, looking unexpectedly shy for someone who Eddie must be bothering. Then, instead of finishing the sentence, he lets go of Eddie’s hand to pull something from his back pocket and lay it on the table.

It’s a ticket. A VIP meet and greet pass for the Corroded Coffin concert in two days. 

“Everybody pitched in and got this for my birthday,” he says sheepishly. “They went on presale on the exact day, Dustin kept saying it was a sign.”

Eddie, who’s never paid much attention to ticket sales in general, much less the dates they become available, can only stare at it. His throat feels tight knowing that he would’ve seen Steve anyway, that it could’ve happened while he was riding the adrenaline high of performing instead of feeling like roadkill freshly scraped off the asphalt. 

“Which, if it was a sign, I’m guessing it wasn’t on purpose, since you didn’t even know I live out here now,” Steve continues. “But, well, they got it, and… I told Robin I wasn’t sure if I’d go, but I knew from the second I opened the envelope it was a done deal.”

“What about… A-aren’t you seeing anyone?” Eddie asks. He remembers, in wistful, rosy detail, Steve being in his element as a boyfriend. Knows that he loves having someone to share everything with, to learn through and through, to kiss and murmur I missed you even if it’s only been an hour, even when it wasn’t safe for two guys to do that openly in small town Indiana and he’d had to limit himself to a fleeting touch and saying it with his eyes. 

“No.” Steve shrugs. “I tried putting myself out there on and off, but there was never enough of a spark to make it past three or four dates. I always knew you were it for me, Eddie, even if we never got another chance. And this…” He taps the concert ticket. “I was going to ask if you wanted one, because god knows I’d give it to you. You don’t have to answer now, because going by how you look you must feel like crap—”

“Oh fuck you, dude.” Never one to sit stoically through Steve’s teasing, Eddie groans and hides a grudging you’ve got me there smile behind a handful of his own hair. 

Steve grins. “Sorry,” he says, not sounding or looking sorry at all. 

Which is where they leave it, for now. Eddie finishes his breakfast, clearing his plate and dishing up seconds because once he starts eating in earnest his stomach settles and he’s starving, and it’s all so good. And it’s not like they’re magically back together—Steve had slept on the couch instead of in the bed with him, they haven’t been close enough to share so much as a meal and conversation like this for ten years, but it’s a start. A chance to get to know each other again, see if they still fit. 

~

Fast forward another ten years. Eddie’s solo career is doing well but he doesn’t do public appearances, got all of his recording done at home in his private studio. He’s pretty much a homebody, which surprised some of the people who know him but not the ones that know him well. 

Steve still has the same job, not because he needs to work but because he loves it. He’s also Eddie’s de facto private chef, and he loves that too. 

But he’s not cooking today, because it’s their anniversary and Eddie is dead set on painting the town red. “Of course I still want to,” Eddie assures him again, nuzzling sleepily up against his unofficial husband (they’re holding out until it becomes legal in either Illinois or Indiana, whichever comes first) when Steve wakes him and asks if he’s still sure about their brunch reservations. “I want to take you out and show you off. Remember how I promised you how rich and famous I am and how cool that would be?”

Steve huffs in amusement, leaning into the nuzzling. “First of all, it was more of a statement than a promise. The actual promise was to write so many songs about my eyes. Second of all, you don’t remember that.”

“Kept the promise either way, didn’t I?” Eddie nips at his collarbone, bare because Steve never was one for sleeping with a shirt on, even when the weather turns cold. “I’ve written songs about your eyes, your smile, this ass…” He grabs at it with a little growl, leaning more of his weight onto Steve to reach and enjoying the way his sweetheart happily squirms. 

“Mmm, yeah,” Steve sighs. “But we could still stay in… have breakfast in bed…” His own hands find Eddie’s love handles and settle there. “Not have to get dressed.”

“Nope.” Eddie props himself up on one thick arm and kisses him on the nose. Then yawns hugely. “It’s about time I get some fresh air, and I’m taking you out, baby.”

So Steve crawls out of bed, fetching Eddie the clothes he asks for and gamely taking suggestions for his own outfit—though he anticipates every article with a smirk, starting to grab each hanger before the words are fully past Eddie’s lips. Jeans that are just a little on the tight side and highlight the ass that Eddie so loves to grab (and sing about grabbing, the horny lovesick goblin man), a t-shirt that shows off his muscles and broad shoulders (because he may be turning forty next month but he takes damn fine care of his body), and the leather jacket from Eddie’s Corroded Coffin days that no longer fit their original owner. 

Because Eddie, who loves Steve’s food, has put on at least a hundred pounds in the past decade,maybe more. Most of it has gone to his belly, but he’s pretty round and soft all over—except his ass, for some reason, which is his excuse for how much attention he regularly bestows on Steve’s. 

That’s not why he’s stayed out of the public eye for so long though. It’s more because he got his fill of being a rock star, being recognized everywhere he goes, being photographed all the time and known for his wild antics. He’d wanted that when he was younger, so badly, needed the accolades and acknowledgement as someone who hadn’t gotten a lot of that as a child. But that rock star life took him away from Steve for so long, which he both regrets and doesn’t because it all worked out in the end. He’d been in it just as much for being able to make and share his music, too, which he can still do, so he’s happy. Happy and so, so in love. 

Their day is back to back reservations at various restaurants, all selected by Eddie because of dishes he knows that Steve will want to try and recreate at home. “Inspiration for your craft,” Eddie tells him with a wink, his own cheeks pink and grin lazy with the pleasure of overindulgence. 

Pictures are taken, more by cell phones than paparazzi because it’s the 2000’s now (not long before the Supreme Court of California issues a finding that allows that state to start issuing same-sex marriage licenses out on the West Coast, and Steve and Eddie fly out for Robin’s backyard wedding). They circulate the internet, with thousands of people weighing in on whether that really is Eddie Munson, the “missing” front man from Corroded Coffin. There are comparisons between old photos and these new ones, in depth analyses that range from “he wouldn’t get that fat” to “wow he really let himself go” to “looks like he’s living his best life.”

Eddie and his sweetheart—who is a total unknown except to some of the kids at the program who see the pictures and flip out because since when is Mr. Harrington so close with a famous metal guitarist omg, he’s so lame with all his sweater vests and dad jokes—remain unaware and unbothered as Steve helps Eddie tuck his already full belly back into his pants, get him all zipped up again, and leave brunch for their next stop. 

And they have a very lovely day.

Permanent tag list (ask to be added): @hotluncheddie @tangerinesteve @lawrencebshoggoth @sofadofax

[z0mbiewh0re]

Rafe cameron x pogue!Reader

Summary: You and Rafe are secretly dating. Well it wasnt really a secret anymore after one of your friends found out.

Warnings: slight Smut. Getting caught making out. A bit of cursing? Use of alcohol. Use of drugs.

Rafe and you are secretly dating for a few weeks now. You dont know how it happend or why it happend but it did happend and you liked it. You liked him.

If you're honest, this whole secretiveness thing is really turning you on.

He is really turning you on.

Right now you where at a beach Party with the other pouges you and kie where sitting on a tree trunk while the boys where being dumbasses like always.

Rafe watched you from afar feeling a pang of possessiveness but he quickly shakes it off reminding himself to stay in character.

You feel rafe's gaze on you as you slightly turn around to look directly into rafe's eyes. After a few secounds of eye contact to turn to look at kie again.

"Kie i go to the Toilet."

You say and kie nods. You stand up and look at rafe walking to the Toilet. Rafe understands your look and quickly follows after you, checking if anyone is watching before he follows you inside.

"Hi."

You say making Rafe's expression softens as soon he hears your voice.

"Hey"

He reaches out and takes ahold of your waist, pulling you closer.

"I missed you."

You said as he pulls you closer.

"I missed you too."

He murmurs as he leans down and gives you a soft kiss on the lips.

You lay your hands on his chest. Rafe groans faintly as you run your hands over his chest. He breaks the kiss momentarily before his lips find their way to your neck, leaving a trail of kisses down your skin.

"Rafe..."

You mumble. He continues placing gentle, heated kisses along your neck, nipping at your skin occasionally as he murmurs against your flesh.

"Shh, baby..."

He makes.

"Rafe..."

You start again but he presses his body against yours, gently pressing you against the wall. His hands grip your hips, his fingers digging into your skin.

"You have to be quiet, baby..."

He mumbles as he keeps kissing you.

"Rafe we have to-"

He silences you by claiming your lips once more. His kiss is hungry, passionate, filled with need. He gently lifts you up, pinning you against the wall.

"No one is gonna come in"

he mutters against your lips.

"But what if-"

Rafe presses himself closer to you, his body flush against yours.

"shh..."

he makes again, his hands ghosting over your thigh, slowly slipping underneath the hem of your skirt.

"No one's gonna find us, I promise..."

He mumbles giving you a peek on your cheek.

"I love you..."

You mumble and his eyes light up.

His breath hitches and something in his gaze softens as he gazes down at you. His hands find their way under your thighs.

"I love you too, baby."

he whispers, pressing kisses down your neck once again.

Your wrap your Arms around his neck but suddenly the door opens.

He lets you down and quickly spins around. Before he can react, he's met with the sight of Pope standing in the doorway.

Pope looks between the two of you shocked.

"What the fuck."

Pope says shocked.

Rafe curses under his breath.

"It's not what it looks like"

You say quickly, trying to come up with some kind of believable explanation.

"What...where you doing?!"

Pope asks.

Rafe looks at Pope frantically, his mind racing to think of something to say.

"We...we were fighting!"

he replies quickly.

"yeah...we just had a really heated argument"

You said nodding.

Pope looks between the two of you, clearly not convinced by the story. He glances at Rafe with a look that clearly says 'bullshit' before turning his attention to you.

"Are you lying to me?!"

Pope asks raising a questioning eyebrow. Rafe watches the two of you nervously, his heart still beating fast from the shock of being caught.

"We where fighting Pope."

You repeated Pope looks between the two of you again, skepticism written all over his face.

"Right..."

he says slowly.

"and what were you fighting about exactly?"

He asks.

"Its rafe cameron does this stupid kook needs a reason to fight?!"

You said mocking.

Rafe bristles slightly at your words, a bit offended but keeps his mouth shut. Pope looks between you two again before finally speaking, a look of realization crossing his face.

"Wait a damn second..."

He mumbles.

"What?!"

You ask looking at rafe for a secound and then back to pope.

Pope looks at you with a mixture of shock and disbelief, his eyes widening.

"Are you two... together?"

he asks incredulously.

"What?! No!"

you say panicking.

Pope eyes you suspiciously, clearly not buying your denial.

"Don't bullshit me"

he says bluntly.

"Pope."

You said.

"We where fighting."

You said again hoping he would buy it.

Pope stares at you, his gaze unwavering. It's like he's trying to read your mind, hoping to get the truth out of you.

"Admit it"

he says firmly.

"Dont tell anyone."

You plead.

Pope frowns, crossing his arms as he continues to stare you down.

"Why shouldn't I?"

He says angry.

"Because youre my bestfriend!"

Pope huffs in annoyance, clearly frustrated by the situation.

"Damnit, how long has this been going on?"

He asks angry.

"About...3 weeks?"

You say unsure if this was right.

Pope's eyes widen again at your words, shock written on his face.

"Three weeks?! And you didn't think to tell me anytime sooner?"

He says now even angier.

"I wanted to but...i dont know."

You mumble in shame.

"Why him of all people?!"

He ask.

"I dont know?...i love him?"

You try to explain but you really didnt know why you liked him that much. You just did.

You liked the way he talked to you. The way he holds you. You thought he looked incredebly hot when he got mad but still you loved it when he got soft with you.

"Pope just...please dont tell anyone okay? Pinky promise?"

You ask hoping he would just accept it.

"Fine. I promise i wont tell. But...we will talk about this tomorrow okay? I wanna understand this."

He says as he interwinded this pinky with yours.

"Thank you poppy. I love you. Youre the best you know that?!"

You say glad that he promised you. You knew you can trust him. He wouldnt tell.

"Yeah yeah. I love you too. Thats why i dont want you to be with a dickhead like cameron."

He says making rafe take a step forward.

"You know im right here?! So you better watch it!"

He spat angry.

"Rafe. Both of you stop. I- we will go now pope...just tell kie and the other two dumbasses that i met someone on the way to the toilet and hook up with him ok?"

You said but pope shook his head.

"They wont believe that."

He says.

"Yes they will. And you know that."

He groans but nods.

"The things i do for you...you own me a favor!"

He says as you grab rafe's hand.

"A big one."

You say nodding.

"I promise! Bye bye!"

You say as rafe holds your hand firmly in his, his thumb gently rubbing against your skin as you leave with him.

"Did you came with you car or motorcycle?"

You ask as you walk down the street to the parking lot.

He grins, the motorcycle being his obvious preference.

"You have to ask? I took the motorcycle"

He answeres making you groan.

"Rafeee! Seriously?"

He laughs at your reaction, clearly enjoying teasing you. He wraps an arm around your waist, drawing you close to him.

"Come on baby, don't be like that. You love the motorcycle"

He says giving you a kiss on your cheek.

"I love seeing you on the motorcycle. I hate driving with it. Because you are always speeding!"

You say with a chuckle.

You looked up to him.

"Did you drink?"

You ask him making him tilt his head slightly, raising an eyebrow at your question.

"What? No, I didn't drink. Why?"

He says making you sigh.

"Rafe stop lying i can smell it. And i tasted it earlier."

You say looking up at him.

He hesitates for a secound before he admits.

"I only had a couple of beers but im not drunk."

He says and you groan again.

"Youre not gonna drive."

You say with a slight stern tone.

He huffs in annoyance.

"Why? Why can't I drive? I'm completely fine, baby. Honestly."

He says defensive.

"Did you take coke?"

You ask as his jaw clenches slightly and he looks away from you. He sighs.

"Yeah."

You groan again shoving him away from you slightly.

"Oh my god! Are you being for Real? You drank and took coke and you still wanted to drive? Not gonna fucking happend we're walking. Give me your Keys."

You said slightly annoyed.

He rolls his eyes and huffs, clearly not happy with your demand. He reluctantly pulls his keys out of his pocket and hands them over to you.

"Seriously?! Walking? Baby, it's over 10 minutes to get to my house from here. We're not walking all that way."

He says. God he was so lazy and spoiled.

"Then stay here. I got your Keys."

You say as you start to walk down the street.

He rolls his eyes again, a scowl on his face.

"You're not seriously going to make me walk all the way home are you?"

He asks but you ignore him.

He groans in annoyance, reluctantly following behind you. He mutters under his breath as he catches up to you, walking at your side.

"I hate you sometimes."

He says with a scoff as he takes your hand in his.

"I hate you too."

[sanjisblackasswife]

Law Consumes an Aphrodisiac (NSFW)

CW: 2.1k

Black Fem Reader in Mind

Bad Summary: He lost a bet and drunk an aphrodisiac. @owlight sorry for the lateness🤦🏽‍♀️💕

CW: SlightlyDrunk!Law, Teasing, Slight Edging, Overstimulation, Needy!Law, Spitting, Thighjob(?), Fucking on A Desk, OOC!Law, Vaginal Sex, Slightly Sub!Law

He knew he shouldn’t have played these dumbass games with you.

He gets so irritated

He isn’t naturally a touchy type, but when he consumes the drink he begins to CRAVE the touch from you

Uses stupid ass excuses to have your hands on him as opposed to you having his hands on you

Law swears up and down to you that he doesn’t get stressed out easily, and you obviously wanted to prove him wrong so you bet him that he wouldn’t yell at Luffy the entire day.

Loss within the first hour.

“I don’t like alcohol.”

“Well then why did you bet—“

“BECAUSEITHOUGHTIWOULDNTLOSE”

“Yeah yeah thought like lick—“

"OKAY! FINE!"

Law was unfortunately a man of his word so of course he took the drink from your hands. He stared hesitant on taking the first sip, the ice cubes dancing, around almost feeling like he’s being mocked and he finally decided to shove it all down to get it over with.

"Daaayuumm, Cap'mn..." You gasped teasingly, watching his face scrunch up in disgust from the harsh, sting of the beverage, "I ain't think you was a hard hitta like that---"

"What did I---blech" Law shook his head, putting down the shot glass before walking away from you, "tell you about calling me Captain..I'm your boyfriend."

"Yeah, but also my captain...Captain." You fake salute the last part causing him to roll his eyes.

"What was in that drink anyways? It had a weird after taste." Law asked, sitting back at his desk chair. You turned to search for the bottle, and upon reading it your eyes widen and Law immediately perked up from watching you, "Y/n."

"...uh..um.." You hand him the bottle with hesitation, somewhat afraid of handing him to read the so so unfortunate ingredients.

“Shit.”

and there it was, a big red and bold a warning label of said drink having an aphrodisiac.

You and him both stared blankly at each other , dumbfounded on what exactly were to happen next.

“WELP GATTA GO—“

“Room!”

Suddenly the blue hue surrounds you and you and him were sent to his office.

“Law i have to work—“

“Sit your ass down. Please.”

He wasn’t angry with you, he knew it wasn’t it your end goal was to “drug” him so he wasn’t completely upset. It was his fault for trusting you with the alcohol choice in the first place.

...

"Baby I'm boredddddd I wanna go out--oh."

You look up from the couch you were laying on lazily in his office to see a shirtless, slightly sweaty Law sitting at his desk with his head thrown back. His breaths were shallow as he started to grit his teeth, jawline beginning to clench.

Dammit.

He's going through hot flashes already yet he makes it look so attractive.

"Baby..." You slowly approach him, eyes widen for a moment seeing he unbottoned his pants, his pretty trimmed happy trail just teasing you above his underwear band, "Law--!"

His movements were so quick you didn't even have time to control the situation of his hand pulling you forward from the back of your head to kiss him. Usually, he was more of a shy guy, when you initiated to make out with Law his movements were sweet yet, not so confident for the first few seconds, but now it's as if he were trying to suck your lips whole.

Law just couldn't take it anymore, the past 2 hours he stayed at his desk, reading, looking at you, studying, looking back at you, trying to find a cure from the drug in his drink, but his eyes stayed back on you. Oh how pretty you looked, your body was so tantalizing now, Your figure on display in your long skin tight dress he allowed you to wear since it was a slow day on the sub.

How your entire body jiggled with each toss and turn as you read your book. The small moans from when you got up to stretch, the way you playfully winked at him when you caught him staring at you, all of it was just a tease to him. He hated looking at you as some kind of sex object especially since he isn't a very sexual guy, but because he knew this wasn't anything above from the effects of that stupid ass bottle.

And you both knew it, so why not take advantage of it?

"Take this off. I need to see them—" It was like Law was just speaking out loud, already removing your clothes from you with a sweep of each movement leaving you with nothing but your thong on he grunts to quickly stand and wiggle out of his pants and underwear.

You do a small gasp, sure you’ve seen his dick plenty of times, but you still are shocked by his size, especially when it’s only SOFT, yet leaking just a little.

That’s when you had an idea.

“aw.” You tease, pushing him on his chest with the tips of your fingers so he can sit back down, “Here I am naked and you’re not hard for me? I’m wounded.”

Law smacks his teeth, but it soon turns into a groan of shock feeling your weight on his lap as you grab him by his cheeks and kiss him. Your tongue swipes his bottom lip to pry inside his mouth, Law could have sworn he got light headed by your kisses.

His body and hands moved on their own as you hoth engaged in a passionate makeout session in the nude, him caressing your neck gliding all the way down to break from your lips to nibble and suck on your teasing breast, you hum in delight.

“I…ha..taught you well, baby…” You praise his tongue skills on your nipples. He used to be so afraid to pleasure you, his mouth always so shy on your tits, but now he’s hungry and you are the only one to satisfy him.

You sit sideways on his lap, adjusting your legs so his half soft cock rest between your plush thighs and you begin to bounce up and down earning your a firm suck and groan against your skin.

You’ve never let Law fuck your thighs before, especially not in this particular position, but from the look on his flustered face you knew you had to do it more.

“Fuck—!” Law huffed seeing his brown tip begin to straighten up in between your legs as you bounced a little, also grazing against your clothed cunt.

Well.

Clothed is a loose way to put it when in reality the only thing that fabric is really covering is ur clit.

You felt his cock harden as you slowed down, you mentally pout after getting an late idea that it probably would have felt better to have him grow hard inside you.

Oh well. Maybe next time.

Law was so close to reaching his first orgasm for the night when you stop, his eyes widening losing focus of cumming for you, he looks at you with dark eyes and all you do is smirk.

“Common….” You get up from his grasp and take off the rest of your panties to then lay back, legs spread on his desk, “I know that drink is driving you mad. So. Use me.”

“Wh—?”

“I owe you. And you need to relieve yourself somehow—-what. Did you just wanna look at me naked all night?”

You had a point, especially with how your kept swinging your legs back in fourth, waving your pussy around like it’s a prize for him, and in this case it most definitely was.

Law pushes his scruffy hair back a little, walking towards you not looking away from your pussy as he sits on his knees to rub your labia with his middle and index finger, admiring the glistening of your pussy under his desk light.

He groans at the sight, giving a small stripe of a lick from the bottom up and latch his lips on your clit, your back immediately arches, causing your to throw your hands on his damped hair.

“Hmmmmmm…Law….S’good…”

You couldn’t contain the voices spilling out of your lips as you felt Law pull apart your lips to suck harder on your clit. Of course, your pretty hot boyfriend didn’t stop at adding to his pleasure either . Without missing a beat he groaned inside you, vibrations causing your back to arch as he stroked his cock as the same pace of your hip movements.

“S-so! SO CLOSE AH!—“ Your moans bounced off his walls which was a signal for Law to pick up the pace. He knew he needed you to cum at least once before he got selfish. “L-LAW! OH!”

Your eyes rolled back, mouth agape, spasming and twitching your thighs around his head, too weak from your harsh tear jerking orgasm to squeeze him tighter. In an instant Law got up, still rubbing his shaft, mushroom tip so wet and dripping of his own cum down his knuckles.

“Well…” You huffed, body limp, almost mentally anticipating on him to slide inside you because your body is still shaking. “Use me.”

Your boyfriend wiped his sweaty face, Nothing about this seemed right, his eyes were blurry as well as his kind, but his body started to move on its own, “Fuck—-Im…I love you, Y/n.”

“Hah…I love you t—-ah!”

Almost as if his words of affection was a form of apology, he spat on your sopping wet clit , and slid himself inside, with each inch you felt in your gummy walls was a louder moan to his ears as Law moved his sticky hot body over yours.

“Oh my—-fuck!”

Maybe it was the aphrodisiac but your velvet like pussy made him melt. Law held both your arms over your head, making sure you stayed still and latched his lips on yours as you began to feel yourself move up and down on the cold wooden desk.

It was nothing like he had before; your legs closing him in, hip balls slapping under your ass with each snap of his hips drove you both insane and though the paij of overstimulation was just too much for your pretty little head you couldn’t help but to cry out,

“Please! Please more! Please!”

It was so erotic to him hearing your stuttering words with each thrust form words of begging in his ear, Law begins to breathe even harder out his mouth and into yours, tryjng to kiss your again but the quickened pace of his pumps just left him to graze your lips.

“You feel so fucking good i cant stop! i—i wont stop i need more!”

“Then…ah! Take it….!”

In a moment Law gets his first orgasm with you, and as tired as he already was, he was still hard and throbbing, especially seeing the beautiful sight of his cum oosing out of your cunt, making a mess of his desks and your thighs.

“Turn over.” He says as he moves you on your stomach anyways. Though he was impatient to go another round he still made sure not to be too rough with moving your inevitable sore body.

Your legs just barely dangling off the desk he pulls back one cheek, cursing under his breath at both holes, nibbling at his lip of an idea that may get him fucked up, so…

he doesn’t and proceeds to prod at the CORRECT hole.

“Law…please…just…AHH!”

There wasn’t anytime for teasing, the wet sounds your body was making from just playing with the hood of your clit was stimulation enough to get him to tightly grab your ass and guide them back and fourth to bounce on his pelvis.

Damn it was a pretty view for him.

“Fuck! FUCK! IM CU—“

Like clockwork Law’s pace gets erratic, hips stuttering as he then puts his knee on the desk to feel more of you as well as creeping his hand to your neck to choke you a little. Causing you to bend your back more.

“LA-LAW BABY —“

Didn’t take long for your eyes to be unfocused with swelling tears. The pain was too much, but so addictive you hoped in the back of your head he wasn’t finished.

And almost as if he read your mind; you both still coming down of the last high he applies pressure to your throat to whisper in your ear

“I need more, baby.”

Any normal person could hear the loud screams and “Fuck”’s you both shared as well as the desk scratching up the floors but that was something Law will deal with later.

As of tonight

It was just you, Law, and the aphrodisiac in his blood stream.

[venus-haze]

What's Your Pleasure? (Soldier Boy x Reader)

Summary: Joining Vought’s newly announced superhero team Payback could be the big break you’re looking for. When it comes down to you and Crimson Countess for the last spot on the team, you’re shocked to hear Soldier Boy will be conducting your final interview. You shouldn’t be shocked at what it involves.

Note: Female reader, but no other descriptors are used. I wanted to reflect the goofy ass superhero names that older supes had, so you’re Galaxy Girl. This takes place in the late 70s. Inspired by the Jessie Ware song. Do not interact if you’re under 18 or post thinspo or ED content.

Word count: 4k

Warnings: Casting couch situation. Sexually explicit content that involves coercion, power imbalance, some spanking, mentions of masturbation and oral sex. Drug and alcohol use by both characters. Reader is a horny dumbass. Do not interact if you’re under 18.

The scrap of paper that sat on your vanity had a hastily scribbled address and time that you’d practically memorized since you got the call from Vought International. You recognized the address right away, one of the nightclubs in the city that was favored by supes. As one of Vought’s affiliate superheroes, you’d been there a few times for events they held, whether to schmooze with their investors or party with other supes. It was, however, an odd place to hold an interview to join a superhero team.

Your competition was fierce, though. The last coveted spot in Payback had Vought executives in a deadlock as to whether you or Crimson Countess would be the best addition to the team. Countess was a powerful supe who you respected, unlike some of the other self-important clowns who ran around making a mess of Manhattan. Not to mention, the both of you had overwhelmingly positive approval ratings across most demographics. Unfortunately, you heard through the grapevine that fucking Swatto had already gotten a spot on Payback, and suddenly your slight edge of being able to fly was no more.

As you applied your signature makeup in the mirror of your vanity, you tried hyping yourself before the night that would make or break your career. You were Galaxy Girl, for fuck’s sake. Your powers allowed you to harness the sun and moon’s energy to create and control meteor showers. Sure, sometimes your aim would be a little off, and you’d accidentally rain flaming rocks into a person’s car or take out a backyard every now and then, but it was for the greater good.

Glancing at the worn photo of Soldier Boy taped to your mirror, one you’d cut out of a magazine when you were a kid, you felt a wave of anxiety crashing over you despite your best efforts. After looking up to him for years and getting into the hero business because of him, you weren’t sure if you could handle the rejection from him, no matter how much he might sugar coat it if he went with Countess instead of you.

Not being chosen to join Payback wouldn’t mean the immediate end of your career, but it’d flatline into obscurity inevitably. You’d heard the argument that supes were mostly in the hero game for the attention, and you couldn’t disagree as far as you were personally concerned. You sure as hell didn’t hate the fanfare and special treatment you got.

At a quarter to eight, you made your way out to the balcony of your apartment, taking off from there and flying in the direction of the club. Flying calmed your nerves the way going on long walks helped most people clear their heads. It was freeing and refreshing, and in a city like New York, you could fly at all hours of the night and see everything clear as day.

When you landed in front of the club, the crowd of people surrounding the bouncer parted momentarily, only to crowd you in a frenzy of people asking for your autograph. You obliged as best as you could before being pulled inside, nearly stumbling directly into the host. He was saying something to you as he led you to the tables that surrounded the dancefloor, but you could hardly hear over how loudly the DJ was playing Donna Summer. He stopped abruptly in his tracks, shouting that he was going to let Soldier Boy know you’d arrived.

You chewed on your lip as your gaze followed the host to the large booth that faced the raging dancefloor. There he was, in all of his glory, Soldier Boy. On paper, he was almost sixty years old, having been in his twenties during World War II. Being a supe had certainly done him well, because he didn’t look a day over forty.

For a moment, you felt like your legs were going to give out from under you when he looked in your direction, the slightest smirk on his face. After what felt like an eternity, the host returned to usher you over to Soldier Boy's table. You were reminded how slow and inconvenient walking was, wishing you could just fly over to him instead of snaking through the crowd of people.

Soldier Boy smiled when you stood in front of him. “Galaxy Girl, right on time.”

“I hope I didn’t keep you waiting, Soldier Boy–sir,” you said, quickly adding, “You can call me GG, by the way. If you want to, of course.”

“No, I like GG. It’s sexy,” he said, and you felt yourself smile despite yourself. “Take a seat.”

You nodded, sitting down next to him in the booth, but leaving a bit of space between you. Seeing the glass next to him calmed your nerves, and you knew after a drink you’d loosen up a bit. Sitting next to your hero, the prospect of working on his team sent a rush through you. Before you could say anything else, he shocked you with a compliment.

“You know, I saw that meteor shower you did for Vought’s investor gala last summer, pretty impressive,” he said.

“Thank you so much,” you said, trying to keep yourself from smiling too wide. “That’s so ceremonial, though. With my powers, I can—“

“I know what you can do, sweetheart. That’s why you’re here.”

“Right.”

“C’mere, why don’t we relax a little bit, get to know each other?” he said. “What’re you having?”

Almost as soon as he lifted his hand, a waiter practically materialized at the end of the table, pen and paper in hand to take down your drink order. Soldier Boy leaned over, effectively eliminating any space between the two of you. His body heat practically radiated onto you, and you caught the scent of a typical, masculine cologne and what you could’ve sworn was cinnamon.

The one drink was enough to lower your inhibitions and allow him to practically pull you onto his lap, his strong arms around your waist as his fingers brushed up and down the thin spandex material of your purple, iridescent costume. In all honesty, it felt less like an interview and more like a first date. He’d lean in close to talk to you, the club’s loud music a good excuse, though you tried not to stare at the face you’d only seen in movies, posters, and your own dreams.

He’d been in the middle of ordering more drinks when you heard your own, altered voice booming through the club. Galaxy Girl Groove, a disco single that Vought ordered to boost your youthful appeal. You didn’t do very much of your own singing on it, but that didn’t seem to matter to the DJs that had it spinning on their turntables from New York to Europe. It was something you were proud of in any other situation, but sitting next to your idol, it just felt corny.

Flying through the galaxy All this love for you and me Can you feel it? Can you feel it?

“Oh my god, I swear I didn’t plan this.”

He shook his head, to your relief. “No, this is a good song. You looked great when you sang it on Solid Gold, but damn, color TV doesn’t do your ass justice.”

“I—thank you,” you gasped, feeling him grope your ass through the thin layer of elastic fabric.

Your head was spinning from the confidence boost. Walking into the club earlier that night, you never expected your long-time supe crush to find you attractive, let alone hot. He, on the other hand, knew he was attractive, from the way he carried himself and acted around you. The conversation shifted by drink three, when you decided to call it as far as anything remotely alcoholic went.

“What got you into the supe business?” he asked.

You hid your face in your hands, giggling at his question. “I’m going to sound like such a kiss ass if I say it.”

“Now I gotta hear it.”

“You did—Don’t look at me like that, it’s true! Oh my god I drove my parents crazy talking about you when I was growing up. Your D-Day speech from ‘The Soldier Boy Story’ was my senior yearbook quote.”

He licked his lips, “Yeah? Was I the first guy you got yourself off to?”

“Sorry?”

“C’mon, you don’t get voted America’s sexiest supe two decades running without being finger-banging material. So what was it? Poster on the ceiling? Magazine under the pillowcase?”

“Poster on the ceiling,” you answered quietly, the lightness you’d felt in his presence suddenly feeling oppressively dark as he nearly gave you whiplash at how quickly he shifted the tone of the conversation.

“Which one?”

“You’re standing on a tank, and the tank gun is sticking out between your legs—“

“That one’s a classic. You’ve got great taste, GG.”

“I’m sorry, what does this have to do with Payback?”

“Everything. I mean, it’s my team. Wouldn’t wanna work with someone who doesn’t like me,” he said, as if asking a prospective hire about their masturbatory history was normal. “I need people on my team who respect me and know how to take orders. No second guessing when the going gets tough.”

His intense gaze made you feel six inches tall, looking up at the looming symbol of American heroism. You may as well have been standing at the foot of the Lincoln Memorial, trying to scale your way up Honest Abe with your bare hands. The implication of his words weren’t what caused your sudden feelings of discomfort, but rather frustration at your own naivete for going into this so-called interview without considering this would happen. Stars were born under pressure, you knew as much from your powers, but figuratively, it’s how things worked in Hollywood too. Thinking Vought would be an exception to the rule was laughably short-sighted.

Even if you didn’t get into Payback, you’d already admitted your long-standing infatuation to his face. You’d fantasized about him, imagined he’d be every bit of the all-American dream man, and the place in your heart that was still filled with mushy nostalgia for the world’s first superhero hardened to stone before you could blink. Turning him down would be weak posturing at best and surely get you on Vought’s shit list at worst. You did want to fuck him, but you would’ve preferred different circumstances.

“I’m a team player. I’ll do whatever it takes,” you said.

“Why don’t we take this somewhere a little more private, then?”

“Lead the way.”

Though you slid off of his lap, he kept his arm around your waist as the two of you got out of the booth. He led you back through the club, past the dancefloor and the maze of occupied tables that broke into whispers at the sight of the two of you together. The realization hit you, he wanted them to see you leaving with him, purposely took the long way to the elevator that was guarded by a bouncer, who immediately moved out of the way for Soldier Boy.

The elevator ride was short yet tense. You were locked in on his profile while he looked straight ahead, his only acknowledgement of your presence the gentle squeeze of your hip. The elevator doors opened far too soon but not soon enough, and you walked with him down the dimly lit hallway. He stopped in front of the door, pulling a key from his pocket and unlocked it. You didn’t even know this club had private suites, but then again, you weren’t important enough to have one.

The suite had a sophisticated sleaze that only money could buy, from the generous animal prints to the abundant reflective surfaces in the room. The bed on the far side of the room was bigger than any other you’d seen in your life, and you began to wonder how the hell it even fit through the door in the first place until you heard a loud sniff come from behind you.

Turning around, you saw Soldier Boy wiping his nose, two lines of coke left on the coffee table that he sat in front of. He wasn’t the first person you’d ever met who took drugs, hell, you did too, but he was the one with his face plastered on anti-drug PSAs.

“You want any? It’ll calm your nerves,” he offered.

“I’m not nervous,” you said.

He hummed in response. “No?”

You shook your head, though you knew he could see right through you. He stood up, staring you down for a moment before making his way over to you. Your confidence waned with each step he took, an amused expression on his face as your facade crumbled until you let out a shaky breath when his lips were hardly an inch from yours.

He kissed you, full of the aggression and experience you’d always imagined him having. His full lips were soft against yours. Even then, your fantasies paled in comparison to the feeling of his tongue in your mouth as you let him take you as he wanted. You liked that he was so cocky and sure of himself, not feeling the least bit embarrassed that you played right into his hands.

Though he moved to pull away, you weren’t about to let the kiss end just yet, gently nipping at his bottom lip. A growl rumbled deep in his chest as he obliged your unspoken desire.

“Why don’t you take this off for me,” he ordered softly, tugging at your costume.

He made himself comfortable on the edge of the large bed. Even if he wanted some kind of strip tease, you weren’t sure if you could manage something like that gracefully with how your costume hugged your body. It made you look and feel incredible, but it was a pain to take off. Fuck it. If the way you undressed was a dealbreaker for him, you could live.

To your relief, the opposite seemed true. He palmed his crotch through his own costume as you shimmied out of yours, shedding your platform boots and gloves. Keeping his earlier comment about your ass in mind, you turned around when you pulled off your spandex leggings, making a show of bending over.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” he groaned under his breath.

You turned around to unzip your top, the last of your costume that you were still wearing, letting it fall to the ground. You, on the other hand, floated a few inches above your discarded costume, pride pumping through your veins as Soldier Boy stared in awe.

Flying the short distance across the room, you landed in front of him, your feet barely touching the ground before he grabbed you. You’d nearly forgotten how strong he was, but he almost knocked the wind out of you with how he pulled you onto the bed with him, pinning you to the silk sheets.

He kissed you again, though you moaned into his mouth as he rutted his clothed cock against your bare pussy, the rough material brushing against your clit. You dug your nails into his shoulders, lifting your hips to get more of the burning friction that felt good despite the discomfort. You couldn’t believe you’d been so unimaginative in your fantasies of him, all so soft and serene, as if you were afraid to truly confront the wanton desire you had for him.

He let out what you could only describe as a growl before he flipped you over, landing a harsh smack to your ass. “All fours, sweetheart.”

As soon as you pushed yourself onto your hands and knees, he rutted his clothed cock against your ass, his fingers playing with your clit. Digging your fingers into the sheets, you pressed yourself closer to him. Who cared if he thought you were desperate? You were desperate after fantasizing about him for so long. There was no guarantee it’d happen again, anyway.

He slapped each of your ass cheeks, tears pricking the corners of your eyes at the force he used. Your skin stung, and you let out a shaky breath when you heard him unzipping his fly. It wasn’t taking him that long to undress, but you were antsy and curious, turning your head to sneak a glimpse of him naked. Your breath hitched at the size of his cock. His bravado sure as hell wasn’t compensating for anything.

He spanked you again, harder than before. “Did I say you could look?”

“No.”

You dug your teeth into your lower lip when he slapped you again.

“No, what?”

“No, sir,” you whimpered, turning to face the headboard again.

“That’s better.”

A moment later, he slipped his hand between your legs, his fingers feeling how wet you’d become at his manhandling your body.

“Fuck, you’re soaked. You like it rough, huh?” he asked, his voice teasing as he rubbed circles on your clit.

“Yes, sir.”

His cock pushed between your folds, slowly filling you before he began to thrust, nearly knocking you flat on your face. His pace was rough and relentless. He clearly had no intention of going easy on you, landing smacks to your ass as he pounded into you. The pain was intense, raw and unfamiliar, but you wanted more, even if it meant you wouldn’t be able to sit for the next few days.

The sound filling the space was nothing short of obscene between the slapping of skin and your pained moans. Throwing your head back, you could barely make out with your blurred vision the distorted reflection of you and Soldier Boy from the mirror on the ceiling. You clenched around him at the thought of how primal and exploitative it was, his cock claiming your pussy just so you’d have a chance at a spot on his team. You moaned, unabashedly turned on by the fucked up situation.

“You close, baby? You gonna cum for me?”

“I—fuck—yes, sir.”

“Good girl,” he growled.

With another thrust that made you feel like your arms were going to give out from under you, you came, tears clouding your vision as all you could feel was pleasure and his hot cum pumping inside you. You’d grabbed the sheets beneath you, squeezing them in your fists as you rode out your orgasm. A tingling sensation in your fingertips was followed by a slight burning smell. Fuck. You burned through his sheets.

As soon as he pulled out, you collapsed onto your back, a hand on your chest as you tried to catch your breath. The bed shifted as he moved to sit next to you, his tongue darting out from between his lips.

“I was just gonna have you suck my cock, but I’ve only had better fucks at Herogasm.”

“Yeah?” you asked, a teasing smile on your face.

He kissed you again, his strong hands squeezing your thighs. “How about you? Nothing like the real thing, huh?”

You could only manage a breathless ‘yes’ in response as you sat up, which was good enough for him. He reached over to the nightstand, grabbing a joint and a lighter. This time, you accepted his offer when he held out the joint to you. Though, instead of handing it over, he put his arm around your shoulders, bringing his hand to your lips. The action felt oddly intimate as you inhaled.

You closed your eyes for a few seconds before looking at him again. “Well, now I’m gonna fail a drug test if I get the job.”

He snickered as he toked, coughing a bit. “If Vought drug tested supes, they would’ve dropped my ass years ago.”

“Sorry about the sheets, by the way,” you said.

“The what—“ He looked over, seeing the holes scorched in the sheets you’d been clinging to. “Shit, that’s actually kinda hot.”

After a few silent moments, you spoke again. “When will I know? If I got the spot in Payback, I mean.”

He shrugged noncommittally. “You’ll get a call in a few days.”

A few days. At least you had some idea of when you’d hear back. Reluctantly, you got up from the comfortable bed, feeling a bit of a chill from the absence of his body heat. You got dressed, glancing at yourself in a mirror on the wall. Your lipstick was smeared, mascara smudged, and the glitter on your cheeks had spread all over your face. At least you wouldn’t have to do any kind of walk of shame out of the place.

“Mind if I leave from here?” you asked, pointing to the window.

He grinned. “Go for it.”

“Have a good night, Soldier Boy.”

“You too, GG.”

Opening the window, you pushed off from the ledge and into the air, soaring above the traffic below. Some of the people standing around and walking down the street recognized you, pointing you out to those around them. Hiding in a place like New York was almost impossible for a supe, and you never bothered with a secret identity like some of your peers did. Besides, you wanted to be recognized, for the city to know who Galaxy Girl was, so you indulged the onlookers with waves and a big smile as you flew by.

As soon as you landed on your apartment’s balcony, you felt a rush of conflicting emotions. There was a little bit of disappointment in being that desperate for a spot on Payback, but mostly, you felt excited disbelief. Despite the circumstances, you and Soldier Boy fucked, something you’d admitted to his face that you spent years resigning to the confines of your most intimate fantasies. Even if you didn’t get chosen for the team, you could live with coming out of the whole thing with nothing more than knowing he was a good lay.

The next few days passed with an anticipation that turned your stomach sour. You stopped a few crimes, did a publicity appearance at a new club, and hoped to god you wouldn’t run into Crimson Countess at some point. You had no idea if her interview went similarly to yours, though you could only assume it did. That didn’t bother you, but you didn’t want her to potentially end up being the bearer of bad news.

Every time you left your apartment, you worried that the phone would ring while you were gone, and you’d miss the most important call of your career. Just after you woke up one morning, the phone rang, and as you’d done since you left the club that night, you rushed into the kitchen to answer it.

“Hello, is this Galaxy Girl?”

“Speaking.”

“I’m calling on behalf of Vought International. A decision has been made on the last position in Payback, and the board would like to extend a formal offer to you as the newest member of—“

The phone fell from your hand, knocking against the wall as it swung back and forth on the chord. You could hardly process the confused, muffled voice on the other end of the line asking if you were still there. The next hour went by in a blur, as you got yourself together and flew over to Vought Tower.

You walked into the conference room to find that the only available seat was next to Soldier Boy, who was sitting among the Vought executives. The board members gave you their congratulations, a lawyer explained what you needed to sign and where, and a photographer started snapping pictures almost as soon as you picked up the pen.

“Look alive, Galaxy Girl! C’mon, you’re making history here!” the photographer exclaimed.

“Don’t overthink it, GG. You more than earned this,” Soldier Boy said with a charming smile. He gave your knee a friendly pat before resting his hand on it, slowly bringing his hand up to your thigh and squeezing.

You managed to give him the most genuine smile you could muster up in return. He was right, after all. You had earned it that night, gave that final push to make yourself stand out, and you hadn’t hated it either. With a deep breath, you signed your life away to join Payback, just like you wanted.

[legoflowrs]

HII i was wondering if you could do some hcs like you did for Kyle and Kenny but with Craig?? No pressure ofc! 💗

HEADCANNONS

cw: drug use, drinking, smoking, slight nsfw

AGED UP TO 18 PEOPLE

a/n: hiya! so in the head cannons craig is with tweek but obviously in the relationship ones he’s with reader xx

i’m also in my craig era rn! hope u like this anon <3

Craig Tucker

- I’m a firm believer in Peruvian Craig!

- He was adopted by Laura and Thomas but Tricia is their biological child.

- Struggled a lot with identity issues when growing up because he didn’t know much about his birth family.

- Laura being the angel she is worked extra hard to make sure Craig was in touch with his birth culture. Took him to a lot of events and tried to cook the food to the best of her ability.

- Out of all the families in South Park I think the Tucker family is the healthiest.

- Craig decided to not put a label on his sexuality. He just wants to go with the flow and see where life takes him.

- That being said it took a long time for him to accept he was attracted to guys. He had a lot of internalised homophobia because of the culture in South Park.

- He was petrified when he realised he had feelings for Tweek.

- I think his family were his rock during this time.

- Still flips everyone off. He thinks it’s peak humour (dumbass).

- Plays football 100%

- Dies when he sees that Tweek is cheering for him on the sidelines.

- Has a touch of the tism (lol).

- I think he really struggles to verbalise his emotions so he sticks to physical touch and acts of service.

- I think he’d probably also plays violin he finds it super calming.

- Listens to R&B.

- Goes to the gym a lot it relieves his stress.

- Goes for runs when he can’t go to the gym.

- Gets a job at Tweek bros and all the grandmas love him.

- Tea drinker!! His favourite is chamomile and honey.

- Tries to do some boxing with Tweek. Gets beat up by Tweek.

- Plays Roblox religiously.

- Likes cooking but hates baking.

- Wears slippers in the house like a little meemaw.

- I think he’d sell vapes on the dl lmao.

- HATES school dances but his friends force him to go anyway.

- Might not act like it but would die for his friends, he has a super soft spot for Clyde. They have been bestfriends for years.

- I head cannon he would become a firefighter lol (i have a fic idea in my head like firefighter!craig and paramedic!reader lol).

- Is still super obsessed with astronomy.

- But absolutely hates astrology he thinks it’s so dumb.

- Will go to the planetarium very often.

- Still wears his hat all the time. But in high school learnt to style his hair so started wearing it less often.

- Smokes weed with Kenny.

- Takes his alcohol well but gets super clingy when he’s drunk.

- He would say he hates parties but somehow is always at them.

- He HATES reading.

- Prob had to be tutored by Kyle during high school.

- Kenny pierced his nose.

- Has a good relationship with Tricia even though they bicker a lot. He takes her for ice cream.

- Loves kids but they find him intimidating lol.

- Is really good at calming babies down (meow).

- Royal blue is his favourite colour.

- Got into the bad habit of smoking cigarettes after having a fight with Tweek.

- Would have sleepovers with Tweek often. They make breakfast together 🥹

- He starts doing media in high school and buys a video camera. Makes little montages of his family and friends. Probably makes them for his friends birthdays as well. (this head cannon is inspired by the fic “ladies and gentlemen we are now floating in space” on ao3, go read it bc it changed my life).

- Plays chess.

- Listens to classical music.

- Likes hiking and discovering new trails.

- Guilty pleasure is Dolly Parton!!!!

- Avid milk drinker makes fun of others for drinking alternative milks.

- Grows flowers and gives them to Tweek. It takes ages cause he always forgets and they end up dying.

- Only drinks room temperature water.

- He has so many tattoos that Tweek designed (my head cannon is that Tweek is really good at art).

- Fucker is tall. 6’2!!!

- Is pretty defined from all the physical activity he does.

- When he’s older he rides a motorcycle.

- Exclusively wears converse. All his friends draw and write on them.

Craig in a relationship

- Okay let’s get down to business hehehe.

- Once again my major head cannon is firefighter!craig and paramedic!reader.

- He is super affectionate with you because that’s how he verbalises his love for you.

- Will do little things for you like tie your shoes or refill your water bottle without you asking.

- Absolutely froths when you wear his letterman jacket.

- He loves linking pinkies with you.

- He has a polaroid of y’all in his phone case.

- You guys have sleepovers often!

- You, him and Tweek go on day trips together.

- He’s not the best at consoling you when you’re upset but he really tries

- Y’all play Roblox together.

- He sends you gym gain updates (meow).

- Loves when your head is on his chest, he strokes your hair.

- Y’all always share headphones whenever you go anywhere.

- You are his passenger princess!!!

- He’s pretty experienced with sex. Loves making you feel good!

- Will hold your hand during sex he finds it super intimate.

- Is super insecure that you’ll leave him for someone who’s better at dealing with their emotions.

- I think he might have a tendency to blow up during arguments. He kinda shoves his feelings down so it all comes out during arguments.

- Goes for a run after y’all fight.

- Also head cannon that he will be super protective over you if you’re pregnant 🥹

- Would love to have a mini version of you guys running around.

- Likes to stargaze with you in the back of his truck.

- Y’all go camping together and roast s’mores on the fire.

- You beg him to go midnight swimming. He caves cause he can’t say no to you.

- Bends down to give you kisses.

- Loves holding your waist or hips.

- Holds your face in both his hands and gives you tender kisses on your nose.

- Will literally body slam you on the mattress cause he thinks it’s hilarious.

- You guys and Tweek have movie nights super often.

- When he falls in love he’s in deep.

- Will propose to you under the stars.

- Makes a video of all your friends saying happy birthday and a heartfelt message from him. Makes you cry for hours.

- Will pick you up when he hugs you.

- You braid Tricia’s hair and go get your nails done together.

- His parents adore you. Laura is a second mum to you.

- All in all Craig is super in love with you 10/10 boyfriend.

[tylerxm]

'' Home '' (Narcos)

pair: steve murphy • javier peña (narcos)

genre: fic, lgbtq+

audience: teen

contains: fruity ppl, steve murphy out of the shower, serious but steady javier peña, fluff, obscene language, mention/use of alcohol, mention of drugs, mentions of connie and olivia, flirty peña, slight angst?, dumbass steve, no one confesses shit, so fucking cheesy, peña talking spanish, persecution, MARVEL MENTIONED.

word count: 3.6k

enjoy! ;)

It had been a long, really long years for Steve.

Steve had moved to Texas after finishing off Escobar like almost 4 years ago, what he didn't know was that his former (and only) best friend lived in his same building, he discovered it a few weeks ago when both of they had met at the entrance of the building. They greeted each other, hugged, and Peña invited him to a coffee. Steve must have admitted that he missed him a lot, too much, but he wouldn't say it to his face. Not yet, at least.

The thing, Javier had left the DEA and they had won. At least, that's what we all thought. The Texan updated the American, telling him about the things that happened since he arrived in Texas until now. All that was the same day they met again, and they had a long night of alcohol, coffee, food and chisme. Steve felt like home. He really did.

Peña the night before today had suggested that Steve should move into his apartment since it had two rooms. Steve happily accepted, the rent was shared between them.

Steve found a somewhat mediocre but well-paying job 10 km from his house, it was an office job as a secretary in a appliance company. He didn't work on weekends.

Compared to Peña, he had found work as a librarian, but he was 'unemployed' at the moment so he couldn't do much...

They were having something to eat on a terrace, each one asking each other about something or other about life and health, until the topic of love came up to life.

──── So, what about Connie? How's Olivia? ──── Peña took a sip of his non-alcoholic beer in case he had to drive at any moment, raising one of his eyebrows curiously.

Steve just showed a shy and clear smile, taking a bite of a mixed sandwich that he was carrying between his fingers.

──── Dunno, we broke up a while ago. It was before we could catch Escobar, way before. All I know is that Olivia's almost 5 years old and I get to see her next month. ──── The blonde's blue eyes lit up slightly. For some reason, that made Peña's heart warm.

──── I didn't know you broke up. I'm sorry. But at least you get to see her. I haven't seen Olivia for a while. ──── He remembered the time he had to take care of her when she was 2 years old, he did felt like she was a miracle. He seemed to have this face of hating little children, but he actually had a certain charisma with them.

──── It's okay dude. Sometimes in life you achieve things and other times you lose them. I got through it. ──── Steve smirked slightly while taking another bite of his sandwich. Peña felt a confusing but yet warm emotion when he saw Steve smile or laugh. Since when was his smile so fucking pretty and charming?

Peña carefully bit into his sandwich, not looking at Steve.

──── So what about you? Are you into anyone at all? ──── Steve asked.

The Texan opened his eyes in surprise as he almost choked on that piece of food he had previously chewed. He stifled a sigh after coughing for a while, even Steve got scared. Why the hell had he reacted like that? If the answer was simple enough, he believed.

──── N-Nope. I'm an old bachelor, and I haven't been with prostitutes either. ──── He coughed again while laughing and hiding his true feelings and thoughts that not even himself recognized.

Steve couldn't help it and laughed at Peña's obvious but confusing nerves. Peña looked away with a very slight blush, somewhat embarrassed by what had happened.

──── But, being honest. I think I do like someone. I'm not sure. ──── Peña admitted, smiling sadly, taking another sip of his beer. Steve seemed curious.

──── Well, then spit it out Peña. ────

Javi's nerves increased as he tried to compose himself, thinking of how to send him a hint. What are you? Fucking fifteen?

──── Well, h-...She's blonde. Like- ugh. I don't even know how to start. ──── Peña sighed deeply when he felt the stranger's oceanic eyes on him, closing his eyes to begin.

──── She is beautiful. I could say that I feel really lucky to have her. I've known her for a few years, but I feel like I've known her for a lifetime. She is blonde, yes, but she is not a blonde like it stands out a lot, it's a honey blonde, I feel like it would smell like cologne and lavender. just like her. She is tall, and when she smiles small but noticeable dimples form. And she has these blue eyes that when I look at them, it seems that I am reflecting in them and I see waves breaking in the port, a calm and beautiful sea, just like her. ──── Peña cleared his throat, now finally looking at Murphy who was apparently really attentive, even surprised. Surprised by Javi's passion.

──── Wow. That was-. Wow. I'd wish someone would tell those things about me. ──── Steve complained jokingly.

──── Yeah, haha. The thing is that there's no woman. ──── Javier admitted the last thing in a whisper, averting his gaze, praying that Steve hadn't heard him. He looked at him curiously.

──── Nothing. Just forget it. ──── The one with brown hair left the money on the table to give Steve the signal to go. ──── I'll tell you the plan on the way. ────

A totally unknown person had called Peña about an issue, more about the issue of drug traffickers and the already executed Cali Cartel. Despite no longer being in the DEA, he wanted to settle things to get away from all that stuff. He still possessed his gun.

Steve was in the driver's seat because Pena had said he would be back in a few minutes, so he didn't bother getting out or moving the car. The engine resonated while still running, since he had turned on the heating since it was starting to get cold.

He took a drag on his half-filled cigarette, now sighing, letting the smoke leave his system. He looked up at the sky, which had beautiful colors like shades of orange, pink and red. The sun was going to set soon and they were 30 kilometers away from home, the trip was going to be a bit long.

Steve was thoughtful, but not even he knew why. He was thinking about Peña, thinking about how he had gotten there, what he would have been through if he had never met him, and where he would be if it wasn't because of him. I was really grateful to have a best friend like him. So attentive, willing, ambitious, attractive, desirable and handsome-

BANG!

──── What the fuck? ──── The American turned to look out the window next to the passenger seat. Shouts and insults in Spanish could be heard on the other side of the opaque fence. More shots were seen, that made his breathing stop for a moment fearing the worst.

But, his knot disappeared when he saw Peña jump the pole with the gun in hand, running as he headed to the car.

──── We gotta go dude! ──── He said agitatedly into the distance as he ran and frowned. Murphy was very confused. And worried.

──── What? What's going on? Are you hurt? Why there where so many shots? Wh- ──── The oldest was interrupted by Peña, who before getting into the car he shouted.

──── Floor it, Murphy! ────

And finally that scream brought him back to reality in a few seconds. He released the handbrake, backed up quickly to take a run, and floored it. They immediately left along the road, skidding as they heard more bullets almost going through the car.

Peña quickly came out of the window and shot the two cars behind them, leaving them without wheels and mobility. Peña put the rest of his body inside, sighing deeply with his eyes wide open. They both remembered the old times.

──── Virgen Santa. ──── Peña said in a sigh, trying to calm down.

──── What the fuck just happened, Javier? ────

Oh right. Shit.

──── Uhm. Remember when I told you about that mysterious guy calling me for leaving this all behind? Well- things went out wrong. At least they're not really big, they're like just 20 people. We're okay. ──── Peña smiled slightly, leaving his hands under his neck. He closed his eyes, calm.

Steve took that relaxation away from Javi as he turned the car into the emergency corridor. He looked at Peña after putting on the handbrake. The sun reflected his face in a spectacular way, that made Peña a little nervous, feeling fluttered.

──── "We're okay"? Javier, we've could died. We're not that young anymore, and we aren't in the DEA anymore to be so carefree and sure of the problems we get into or create. I came here to get away from everything, and live in peace. But it seems that you just want to lead me to your misery. ──── His blue eyes penetrated Peña's gaze, whose eyes were wide open.

He opened his mouth wanting to explain everything but not being able to say even "I". Peña looked with regret at Murphy, who deep down felt bad and bitter for scolding Peña, but he was right. The Texan's heart became smaller as if it was squeezed hard.

──── I-I'm sorry. ──── He stuttered with ellipses in between, not knowing what else to say. It was the first time he was like this in front of someone.

The American just released the handbrake and got back on the road. He never looked at Peña again, but he looked at Murphy the entire time. They didn't even speak the rest of the trip. Peña felt his throat way too tight like to talk now.

It was 6 PM. It'd gotten dark and the atmosphere in the apartment was tense and heavy. Kinda.

It was cold, very cold. Javi was watching a movie in the living room while he was covered with a soft passion red blanket, it only covered his legs. And the heating didn't work properly.

Meanwhile, Steve was in the shower splashing himself with hot water. The Texan had left food on the counter just in case, while he ate some dry cereals, which were his favorite snacks.

The bathroom door opened.

Steve had a towel tied around his waist, still somewhat wet across his torso, back and hair. He approached Peña and sat next to him watching the movie for a few seconds. It was his favourite movie.

──── This is my favourite movie. ──── He broke the ice as he spoke with a neutral face, settling down.

──── Dr. Strange? I've seen it like, 5 times now. Didn't know you were into Marvel. ──── Peña commented as he went back to chewing on his snacks, now feeling somewhat calmer seeing that Steve was talking to him again. How odd.

Steve looked at the bowl of cereal, grabbed a handful and put it in his mouth. Peña smirked.

──── I've been into Marvel for a while. Didn't know you were into Marvel. That's funny. ──── He also smirked.

Peña stopped looking at the screen while Steve was attentive despite having seen the movie about 17 times. Peña sighed deeply, putting the bowl of cereal aside.

──── I'm sorry about- ────

──── Save it. ────

Steve interrupted Javier with a small smile on his lips, without showing his teeth. He looked carefully at the stranger, taking his eyes off the television. The half Colombian got slightly nervous.

──── I'm not mad at you, I'm the one who should be saying sorry. I said awful things and I'm sorry. We're both here to forget things and that's how's gonna stay. But if you need help, count on me. ──── Javi's heart began to race rapidly again. To hide his nervousness, he laughed and gave Steve a light push on the shoulder. The American snorted a laugh.

──── You're being so cheesy about it. Ew. ──── Peña replied "bitterly", now laughing again.

──── Yeah, it was too soft, even for me. Sorry dude. ──── Steve raised his shoulders with a smile on his lips, that smile that Peña loved so much, the smile that illuminated his worst days.

──── Nunca pares de sonreír. ──── Peña said in his native language as he closed his eyes and leaned his back against the back of the sofa. Steve got a little closer to him so he could snuggle under the blanket starting to getting cold. He should definitely get some clothes on.

──── The hell did you say? I just understood 'smile' and 'stop'. Do you want me to stop smiling or sum'? ──── He raised an eyebrow curiously as he asked "hurt", not removing that smile of his from his face.

──── I said that you should never stop smiling. ─── Peña answered, now hearing a laugh from his partner. That made his smile bigger, and his stomach get butterflies.

──── Now who's the cheesy one? ──── Murphy teased.

──── Oh fuck off. ──── Peña laughed at him again, getting kinda fluttered cause of that statement.

Now he wasn't cold. He was warm. He was next to the person who'd made him feel warm every single time he'd see him. His home.

[fandomwe1rd0]

Wrote a songfic using the song "Wish You Were Sober" by Conan Grey!

TW FOR SLIGHT SELF HARM, DRUGGING ATTEMPT, DRUG ABUSE, AND ALOCHOL ABUSE UNDER THE CUT

This party's shit, wish we could dip, go anywhere but here.

Morty covered his ears and gritted his teeth in hopes of drowning out the awful music. He was walking around, drunk and high people bumping into him. The whole party smelled of bitter smell of alcohol and spur stench of vomit, luckily he's used to these scents due to Rick, so it wasn't that bad. His gaze eventually looked on Rick, who was laughing. He couldn't hear much due to the music, but the blonde girl next to him looked to be laughing more than she should've with her hand on Rick's arm. Then she got all in his face, making Morty desprately want to look away. But he eventually got to Rick and tugged on Rick's labcoat "Rick, can we go now?" Rick was too busy flirting with some blonde bimbo who was clearly just interested in getting him to buy stuff for her, and Rick was just interested in getting inside her pants "Wait Morty." Morty let out a long sigh "We've been here for hours! The music is so loud it's making me ears bleed! Can we just go?" Rick glared at Morty and spoke in the tone that parents use when they are frustrated with their child in public "Morty. Grandpa's a little busy right now." "But-" "I said." Rick interrupted "Grandpa's busy right now, so you have. To. Wait." Morty groaned and sat on a couch, crossing his arms with his face twisted in a scowl as he tried to avert his eyes away from Rick's gross flirting "Wow you really can't stand up for yourself, can you?" Morty looked down, trying to focus on something other than the shame he was feeling.

Don't take a hit.

The blonde bimbo gave Rick a roll of weed and Morty ran, smacking it out of the girls hand. He knew how Rick acted when he was high.He hated it.Rick pulled Morty back and gave him a piercing stare. "Morty..." He spoke in a low tone as Morty gulped "What the hell was that?" Rick asked, but it sounded more like he was demanding an answer as his voice came out more as a low growl as he said that. Morty looked the floor "I-I just..." He pushed Morty "Go back to the couch." Morty hesitated but Rick shoved him to the direction of the couch "Now." Morty scurried to the couch.Morty's inner voice spat venom "Nice going dumbass. Rick hates you even more now." Morty held back tears as he saw Rick take a hit.

(...) And please don't drink more beer.

Rick walked over to the table and got mutiple bottles of beer. Morty dashed over to him, remembering when Rick held a knife to his throat demanding to know it Morty was a simulation when drunk. The strong sink of alcohol on his breath. The way Rick's hand felt in the back of his head, sending a stinging pain through the boy. Like he completely forgot that the boy he was traumatizing was his grandson. Who was only 14. Morty couldn't stop shaking even after Rick passed out. "R-Rick...you already had a lot to drink..." Morty muttered rubbing his arm "M-maybe you should-" "Relax Mo-*burp*-rty. I got a new liver." Morty shouted "It's not about that! I don't like seeing you drink Rick!" Morty slapped a hand over his mouth, realizing what he just said. nice going, didn't sound desperate and pathetic at all..." Morty's inner voice commented, Morty could basically hear it slow clap. "Shut up!" Morty demanded in his head. He didnt even notice Ricks narrow eyes staring through him "Well too bad, grandpa is an adult and can do whatever he wants. And Mortys stay out of their Rick's way." "But Rick-" "Do you want to wait in the car?"

(...) Ima crawl out the window now, 'cause I don't like anyone around, kinda hope you're following me out, cause this is definitely not my crowd.

"Fine!" Morty spat. Storming out of the party. He gave Rick one last pitiful look, clenching his fists when he noticed Rick completely ignored him."What did you think he'd follow you out? You're so pathetic. Rick's little lapdog." Morty bit his lip so hard he tasted the mentalic tang of blood to get the voice to shut up as he went the car, hugged his knees, and cried.

(...) Trip down the road, walking you home

When Rick returned to the car, him and Morty drove back home in peace. As Morty prayed Rick couldn't notice his puffy, red eyes. "Cried over Rick like a pathetic bitch." His inner voice laughed as Morty prayed that he wouldn't cry again.When they got home, Morty helped Rick out of the car as he stumbled. Rick laughed "Awww Morty y-youre my little buddy..a-alwayz so helpful...g-grandpa lovea you baby...." Morty groaned, as he felt his face burn up, overwhelmed and flattered, not used to the quick fire praise Rick was showering him with. He then walked Rick inside."Y'know Rick doesn't mean it, right? He's drunk. He probably thinks you're Summer." Morty stepped on his foot roughly, of course his inner voice wouldn't let him have this..."Because you don't deserve it." His voice responded.

Pulling me close, beg me "stay over" but I'm over this rollercoaster.

When he walked Rick over to his bedroom and sat Rick down on the bed as he turned around and began walking away, he felt 2 arms wrap around his midsection and pull him close. He squirmed when he felt Rick nuzzle into his hair. "Rick, what are you doing?" Morty asked, trying to sound as annoyed as possible. Rick muttered against his hair "Stay...g-grandpa needs you...m-my lit-*burp*-tle buddy...." Morty groaned "I have a test tomorrow!" Rick pulled him closer "Stay..." Morty looked down "...Fine." Morty sat down next to Rick on the bed."God look at you, you'll do anything for him, won't you? You pathetic lapdog." His inner voice insulted, poison seeping through it. Mortys hand fisted in the sheets, begging to voice to stop, so tears wouldn't spill over his eyes.

(...) Honestly you always let me down, and I know we're not just hanging out.

Morty sat in the bed, and Rick looked over to him, noticing his misty eyes. "W-whats wrong?" "I don't want to tell you..." Morty commented in a shaky voice, the words falling out before he could stop it. Rick hugged Morty "Awww, c'mon d-don't be like that...grandpa's here to help...but you'd have to tell him what's wrong." Morty looked away."Hah! Now Rick knows how weak you are. He'll hate you even more now." The inner voice jeered. Rick placed a hand on Morty's shoulder and Morty sighed "You won't laugh if I tell you...right?"

"Of course he will laugh, you're being fucking pathetic, like a lost little puppy." The inner voice confirmed. Morty looked over his shoulder and Rick said "I-I wouldn't laugh at you!" Morty looked down and rubbed his arm "Well why-" just then he felt a strong weight pressing into his side and looked. It was Rick. Morty cried softly.

Nineteen but you act twenty five now.

When Rick woke up, Morty was already gone. He made his way to Morty's room "Morty, we're going on another adventure!" Morty huffed and crossed his arms "If you're going to another alien party, don't take me." Morty commanded, the word-vomit spilling from his lips before he could stop it. "Don't be stupid." Rick demanded, grabbing onto Morty's arm and dragging him out of bed. "Why do you even need for me the adventures." "Morty I told you this before, I need your brainwaves-" "You went on adventures with Summer and my dad before and you never had to worry about brainwaves!" "Morty just shut up." Morty, like the obedient sidekick he was, shut his mouth. And of course Rick went to another party "What up my glip glops?!" Rick shouted out. Morty grabbed Rick's arm and pulled Rick down, his voice a harsh whisper "You told me we weren't going to a party!" "I told you not to be stupid!" Rick whisper shouted back "Which is clearly impossible for you to do." Rick remarked before pulling away roughly from Morty.

"He's right y'know. You're a fucking idiot." Morty felt tears sting his eyes when he knew Rick was right.

Knees weak but you talk pretty fly, wow.

Rick had more than a couple drinks and had his arm wrapped around a redhead with a tight black dress. "Hey babyyyy, y'know you shouldn't be here looking so tempting." Morty felt like he was about to throw up "Rick, I told you not to talk like that in front of me!" "Well if you don't like it you can leave." Rick growled out, his voice low. "Maybe I will!" As he left he gave a backwards glance, and saw Rick turn to the girl and heard Rick say, his voice clearly trying to have a sensual tone "Now, where were we...?"

"Of course he doesn't care about you. Why would he." Morty looked down and tried to deny what the voice was saying but he knew it was true."

(...) Take me where the music ain't too loud, trade drinks but you don't even know her, save me 'til the party is over.

Morty found a quiet-ish place to sit down. The music was no longer headache inducing loud, but of course it was still loud. He was watching Rick like a hawk, waiting until Rick seemed like he would leave. He saw the same redhead Rick was flirting with slip pills in a drink, waited for it to dissolve, then handed it to Rick. Mortys heartrate quickened as he raced to Rick and hit the drink out of his hand right before Rick brought it to his lips. Rick looked daggers at Morty "What. The. Hell. Was. That." Rick interrogated. His voice filled with barely-contained rage. Morty trembled and attempted to swallow the stone in his throat "S-she put something in it...I-I wanted to help you Rick..." Rick huffed and picked up Morty by the scuff of his shirt. "You're going to wait in the car for the little stunt you pulled" "Rick wait n-" He got cut off when Rick threw him in the car and slammed the door. "This is what you get for not letting him get drugged. Wow, he's an amazing grandpa, isn't he?" His inner voice remarked sarcastically. Morty almost wished he was back at the party, so he wouldn't be alone with his inner voice. So the music could drown it out, at least a little, once again.

A few hours later Rick went back. He hugged Morty "Morttyyyyy I missed you little buddy." Rick didn't even notice Morty's wet eyes and moist cheeks. Morty nodded "Mhm..." "You had me worried...g-grandpa can't lose you...you're his be-*burp*-st friend, y'know." Morty looked down and only one thought filled his head.

Real sweet, but I wish you were sober.

[simpscripts]

Sex in the Club Part 2 (Jean-Ralphio Saperstein x Reader)

Warnings: Smut, 18+, Drug use, Alcohol, drunk/high sex, smoking, anal sex, vaginal sex, semi-public, and slight subcon cause of drugs.

Be responsible with drinking and smoking. This is the final part, I hope you enjoy it!

The back hallways looked to be completely empty, not surprising seeing as it was still early in the night and no one wanted to break their seal this early. Give it an hour or two and the bathrooms lines will be wrapped all the way out the front door. You don’t think about it for long as you approach the dead end hallway with doors on either side separating the women’s and men’s rooms. You think he will turn one way or the other but he tugs on your wrist and moves to push your body against the wall.

You gasp as your back roughly hits the wall and his mouth descends on yours. His tongue enters your mouth and you taste the strong flavor of liquor filling your senses. “Baby, were not in the bathroom yet.”

He growls and starts stumbling back into one of the doors, dragging your woozy body along with him as he refuses to depart. You shuffle into the room together, teeth clashing and biting against each other roughly. His hands move down to your ass during the exchange, grabbing on to lift you up onto the sink’s counter once your back made contact with the edge.

“Fuck, wait.” You mumble against his lips and just barley manage to pull him off you. Both of you panting against each other’s lips. “Check to make sure no one is in here and lock the door.”

He quickly starts looking under stall doors and when he approaches a stall with a closed door he tries to kick the door in. You wince as his foot pathetically bounces off it without even causing a dent and a buzzed laughter leaves you at the scene of him drunkenly holding his injured foot. The sounds of the club are a muffled roar in the distance but the bass still manages to pierce through the walls and vibrates the counter beneath you.

“Fuck it, if any dumbasses are in here get the fuck out now so I can get my swerve on!” He growls out and stumbles over to the door.

He gives a moment to listen out and then locks the door of the bathroom when he got no response. You watch him shift to sensual movements as he positions himself back between your legs and you notice he brought the bottle of tequila with him as you bump it on the counter next to you.

Heavy breaths pant out your swollen lips as his fingers curl into the front of your dress while staring down at you and he tugs your body closer to his to kiss you. You feel him start yanking down the front of your dress, exposing the sweaty skin of your breast to the cool air of the bathroom, the fabric scratching your skin as its pulled down to your stomach. Your hips wiggle uselessly in his grip for friction but he is too busy biting down your neck to give you what you need.

The kisses trailing down between the valley of your breasts send shivers to your foggy brain and you arch your back to push your flushing breasts up. Once he is situated just below your breasts he reaches over to grab the bottle and pushes the cool glass into your chest. He chuckles darkly as you whine at the cool temperature piercing your skin.

“I’m thirsty.” He whispers, bitting a roll of skin between his teeth.

More cold flows over your body as he tips the bottle near your neck and you stare down at him drinking in the trail of liquor flowing down your body into is waiting mouth. He tips the bottle on and off, taking small breaks to lick up all the liquid he missed that you could feel already started pooling and soaking into your dress.

You’re further shocked out of your tingling skin when his fingers trail across the thin strap of your thong, the small seam drenched as it slides in between your lips. He nearly throws down the bottle in a hasty attempt to free up his other hand to grab at your hip as his mouth moves to bite your nipples.

“Baby,” It’s a strangled cry that rips out of you in want, every nerve on fire from all the stimulants. You felt like you were going to go insane if he didn’t properly touch you.

“Try again sweetums, you know my name once we step foot into a club.” You can practically feel the wicked grin against your skin and pant as you feel his fingers start pulling at the thin band keeping him from your quivering pussy.

“Fuck, daddy please.” Your high is consuming you completely, a weight weighing down your limbs to the point you throw your head back to rest against the mirror.

“That’s it, tell daddy what he can do for you.” His husky rumbled voice buzzes across your hardening nips as he sucks at them.

“Fingers, I need your fingers.” Your eyes scrunch together tightly as you feel a new wave of inebriation and lust washes over you. “Shit I feel so good.”

Each curse comes out effortless as your tongue loosens and they roll off it so beautifully. Slowly he slips two fingers inside your dripping cunt and you immediately clench to draw them in deeper. They curl inside you, rubbing back and forth in little swirls with incredible practice. Just when you’re loosing yourself to the building pressure he unfurls them to scissor out.

You moan out shakily as you feel the stretch that has your eyes burning, or maybe that was just the weed. Either way he was driving you to insanity with just his mouth and fingers working on your wrecked body.

His hips thrust mindlessly against his hand, pushing it further into you. You’re trying to reach down to unzip his pants but its difficult with your melting muscles. He picks up on the clue and before your mind can keep up with him he flips you over to lean against the counter. Your arms roughly hit the porcelain countertop and a gasp knocks out your breath.

His body leans over yours and you watch in shock as you can see him so clearly in the giant mirror in front of you. It’s so incredibly lewd watching through your hazy vision to see him peel your dress up your ass as his other hand unzips his pants.

“That’s it baby, watch daddy fuck this pretty little pussy.” He’s biting his lip as he slips the head of his cock into your folds before thrusting to the hilt in one fluid motion.

His chest leans over and his arms circle around your waist as he starts out at a brutal pace and huffs out in his spot next to your ear. After some time of non stop rutting you watch him with swaying vision in the mirror as he sticks a new joint into the corner of the mouth and quickly lights up. He takes a small test puff and then moves it down to try to offer to your lips that are too busy moaning to accept.

Your head shakes as you look at him in the mirror, his chin resting on your shoulder and watching you closely.

“Baby I-“ You stutter out, trying to find air in between your sharp moans. “ Daddy you’re going too hard, I can’t while you’re thrusting like that.”

He growls and buries his nose into your shoulder to bite against your sweaty skin. His eyes peer up to you in the mirror through his eyelashes and you watch as his hips move from brutal thrust to a slower rolling motion. Each roll of his hips against your ass has his length slowly dragging across your walls and you whine out but thankfully it gives you a moment to breath clearly.

Your lips reach out to the joint he held between his fingers and you stare at him in the mirror as you inhale. You pull in a considerable amount of smoke into your mouth then open it widely to let the smoke slowly seep out over your bottom lip before inhaling through your nose to pull it up. His teeth dig in more as he watches you and you quickly blow the recycled air back out in response. You can feel the floating bubbles rise in your neck before popping and tingling across your body in waves, heightening every sense of pleasure.

It’s so easy to want to forgo oxygen to only breath in the sweet bliss that warms you up and you quickly take another smaller drag of the joint.

“Mm I love that dumb little look you get, eyes all glazed over. Doesn’t it feel so fucking good baby?” His hips stutter once you start your second drag and you exhale out your nose with a whine that blows out the last wisps of smoke from your last toke.

One particular thrust goes a bit too hard causing you to inhale in shock. Immediately you cough out big clouds of smoke all while his arms curl tighter against you to keep bucking wildly into you. The coughs scratching at your throat keep your nerves from tipping over the edge in orgasm, too focused on the burning that slowly gets swallowed up by your high.

“Fuck baby, your pussy clenches so tight when you cough like that. Do it again, fuck, take another hit.”

“Mmm no, it feels so good. Keeping going.” Your words come out slurred with all the chemicals flooding your bloodstream.

He brings his fingers back up to take a short drag for himself and blows out against your ear as he whispers hotly against you. “One more baby girl, then I’ll make you feel so good. I promise.”

You sluggishly comply and raise once more to take a drag. “That’s it baby, don’t stop until I tell you.”

You instantly slow your control to be able to stretch the inhale out as long as you could for him. It’s hard to keep yourself from inhaling sharply with every deep thrust he purposefully slams into your cunt. His hand curls into the hair at the base of your skull and he roughly moves your head, still focused on inhaling, to make you watch yourself in the mirror.

“Look at those fucking red eyes, such a perfect horny slut when you get all fucked up.” He hums and your eyes water with a need to exhale the smoke filling your lungs up to your throat. “Now.”

You immediately pull away from the joint and cough out harshly. The burn itched insistently and no matter how hard you heaved the feeling would not leave you. He groans out loudly, pushing himself upright so he can fully snap his hips against yours. Each time he is hitting the very pit of you and you can feel your walls clench him violently with each of your coughs.

You are so thankful that you are too far gone in everything to feel the biting pain of the sharp edge of the counter digging into you as he roughly fucks you against the surface. You watch him flick the small bit of shouldering joint left over into the sink next to you and diverts his full attention to grab your body. His finger nails are digging into your skin every where he can, taking brief breaks to slap against your exposed ass bouncing on his dick. You were going to have bruises in the morning, and you would love every single one.

You cough out one finale heave that clears your throat and you sigh in relief. His thrusts stutter as he feels your walls flutter closer to orgasm with no distractions stopping you.

“That’s right baby girl, do it for me. Cum on daddy.” His words seep into your skin, thicker than any substance you’ve taken thus far.

Your eyes roll back as you see your fucked out form bouncing limply as he holds you tightly. Everything snaps inside of you, your high deepening and extending the waves far longer than usual. He’s growling behind you, giving your ass a blindingly sharp slap then curls his fingers to grab a handful of flesh in his bruising grip.

Your screams and wails bounce off the walls and sound so loud yet distant to your ears. You almost start sobbing from the constant state of pleasure. As you slowly start coming down you feel his thumb on your ass move down between your checks and he starts playing with your puckering ass, clenching in tandem with your fluttering cunt.

“Let daddy fuck this ass baby, please.” You shudder as the tip of his thumb tries pushing in. “You always get so fucking loose and relaxed when your high.”

“Fuck, I want too so fucking bad but we don’t have any lub-“ Your voice breaks off in a stutter and you gape at him in the mirror when you see him pull out a squeeze bottle from his jacket pocket and snap it open with a loud pop. “Shit, why the fuck do you have that with you?”

“Backdoor emergencies.” he shrugs like it was a completely understandable answers and squeezes a dollop onto two of his fingers.

“Fuck it,” You shrug off your confusion quickly and start pushing back onto his dick and sticky fingers at the entrance of your ass.

You take a big inhale as you feel his fingers easily pop inside and immediately go to curling down against the wall that separated them from his dick in your cunt. The pleasure is so blinding that you almost tip back over the edge. His fingers and cock thrust into your holes in time with each other, and you’re seeing stars by the time he slips in a third finger in.

The sounds coming from your fucked out form are no longer intelligible. Each sound just a strangled mangled mix of moans and gasps as he works over your pliant body in his hands. Your eyes drag up to look in the mirror and you let out a drunk smile as you see your mouth hung wide open against the counter, a trail of drool dripping out and pooling beneath your cheek.

You whine out pitifully as his fingers slip out and you didn’t think you could feel so fucking empty even with his dick still pumping into you. You hear the snap of the cap again and then squirm as you feel him slip out of your cunt and sob out at the new rock bottom of emptiness.

“Don’t worry baby, daddy’s gonna cum deep inside that ass in just a second.” His voice is breathy and hiss as you feel the cool liquid on the tip of his dick press against your warm skin.

You focus on your heavy breathing as he pushes in slowly and you both groan out in unison. He’s softer with you when he fucks your ass compared to your pussy and you’re extremely grateful for that. Especially in your fucked up state of mind that you’re sure isn’t even registering the full range of pain.

“Fuck there it is,” His moans are climbing as he bottoms out in you and you feel your thick heartbeat pound against his cock. “Can’t wait to cum deep inside and then make you go back dancing with it inside.”

Your toes curl at the image and you get so happy knowing this was just the start of a perfect night. He can’t keep himself from pumping but at least takes it at a slow pace of pulling out to the head before slowly pushing all the way back in. Eventually you need more than the gentle fucking his giving you and you move your hips to start bouncing back on him.

He hums in appreciation and starts ramping up his speed. Your nipples scrap against the cold porcelain sink as he bounces you on his cock and you bite on your lip at the sensation. Judging by his stuttering moans and rambles under his breath behind you its obvious he is unraveling in you.

It doesn’t take long for his nails to curl in you and your eyes roll back as you feel him break his brutal pace to slam in and out fully in between each spurt of his cum hitting deep inside you. His body twitches as he keeps a death grip on you to keep himself steady and you fall over the edge when you feel the pooling cum squish with the throbs of his dick inside you.

Despite you both coming down from your highs he still slowly rocks into you to feel his cum move around his cock.

“Just one more thing baby.” He shifts to grab something inside his jacket again and you gather all your energy to pry open your eyes to watch him in the mirror.

He pulls out a small metal plug with a shiny jewel on the hilt and smiles lazily at you in the mirror when your eyes twitch.

“Baby,” You whine indignantly “Why the fuck do you have that with you!” You repeat the same question you asked when he last pulled out an unexpected item from his pervy Mary Poppin’s-esque suit.

“Backdoor emergencies shawty!” he yells a bit louder in frustration this time as if you didn’t fully get the message on the first try. “Now be quiet while daddy plugs up his cum inside you.”

He makes you watch him stick the plug into his mouth as he warms up the metal before slowly position it to be ready to slip in. You whine as he slowly pulls out and as his head slips out its quickly replaced by the warmed up metal plug. It’s not big enough to ease your emptiness but it was something.

“Good girl,” He hums and pushes on the plug to move it around inside of you. “Now lets get you cleaned up and go party.”

He helps your racked body lift up into his waiting arms and lifts you back onto the sink. You whimper as the plug shifts when your weight settles onto the counter and you slump back against the mirror as Jean’s fingers work on your body.

Your dress is lifted back into place and feels slightly more uncomfortable when you feel all the tequila soaked areas cling to your skin. Your breathing evens out more and you peel your eyes open just in time to see him raise you up straighter to accept a shot glass of water he’s feeding you. At this point you’re just going to stop asking how he keeps pulling these items out of nowhere.

The water helps settle some of the burning liquid sloshing inside of you. With the edge of mixed substances burning off slightly you settle more into a comfortable high and giggle as you watch your boy take the time to try fixing up your smeared makeup and tasseled hair.

He’s so soft with you compared to before and you just giggle underneath him at each soft touch. His fingers smooth down your hair and push a few locks behind your ear which he lets his fingers trail down your neck once he was finished. His other thumb is being licked before sliding under your eye to wipe up the black smears and tear trails.

Next he wets a paper towel and starts wiping it across your head to wipe up the sheen of sweat clinging around your hairline. The cool cloth feels so good and you melted under his pampering. You feel a slight twinge of embarrassment as he moves it to wipe up your salvia covered cheek from all your drooling. You’re too distracted by him to focus on the feeling as you watch him happily clean you up while singing along to the echoing music in the distance.

You’re rolling your eyes by the time he moves to push chapstick against your lips and you reach out to push him off. “Alright, alright, knock it off. I’m ready to go party.”

You rub your eyes as you jump off the counter onto shaky legs, blinking away the film that has impeded your vision. With clarity returning to your eyes you jump as you take in his face with clear vision for the first time in a bit.

“Oh shit,” You can’t help but giggle out until the point where your nearly falling over with your laughter as you look at him.

He stands brightly in front of you with a large smile as he watches you fall into a bout of inebriated giggles. Every single inch of his face and some of his hair had a fine layer of your body glitter covering him. He glittered brighter than Edward Cullen in the sun.

“What?” He asks happily, oblivious to his shiny state.

“Baby my body glitter is all over your fucking face. Probably from when you were nearly motorboating my tits.” You giggle more as you watch him lick his thumb and tries scratching at a tiny portion of his face.

“Did I get it?” He raises his eyebrows, dead serious.

“Mmhm yup, come on a let’s go dance.” You laugh and he doesn’t even look in the mirror to just follow your lead.

Your legs start stumbling beneath you as you unlock the door and reach the hallway. His body quickly steps around and crouches down in front of you. He turns his head over his shoulder and waves you on.

“Get on babygirl, I’ll dance for the both of us.”

You’re too far gone in euphoria to argue, slipping your body onto his back, and wrap your legs around him once he has a hold on you. You rest your cheek on his back as he manages to carry your weight surprisingly easily for someone who just came while completely fucked up. Your eyes twinkle as the neon lights shine over you as you rejoin the crowd.

He’s bouncing you both with his dance moves and you squeal out when you feel the plug moving in your ass. You just let it all wash over you. The feeling of the plug and cum sloshing inside of you, the feeling of his bounces, the feeling of the music washing over your post bliss skin, and the feeling of the incredible high driving the whole show. You were young, dumb, and full of cum.

And you wouldn’t have it any other way.

[jeanslilslut]

4.20AM

! ! ! MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS DNI ! ! !

#︙pairings: stoner!eren x reader

#︙cw: smut, car sex, drug use, getting high, alcohol, breeding, weed, fingering, driving under the influence, blowjob, fem!bodied, slight overstimulation, dirty talk

#︙word count: 7k, ik wtf is that

☻ reblogs are appreciated ☻

in which stoner!eren takes you on a late night drive to celebrate 4 / 20.

i wrote this for the lovely @sweetforlevi 4/20 collab and honestly i loved this idea. me and this fic have a love hate relationship and at one point i was convinced it was never gonna get written but here we are <3 a big thank you to peach for letting me join her collab and a big thank you to @bokutosdove for supporting me and helping me out with this fic. luv you 5ever bitch <3

smut under the cut, enjoy my lovelies ;)

This has become quite a regular thing; Eren picks you up at an ungodly hour and he drives you both to the beach, always parking where the best view is so you two can light up, share blunts, and get high as you watch the sunrise. It doesn’t sound like much, but it’s these nights that you look forward to the most.

It’s one of those nights tonight.

You’re in bed, the fan blaring above you. The month of April has brought along a heat wave and you couldn’t feel more uncomfortable. You’re tossing and turning against the thin sheets that stick to your skin, fighting your inability to sleep. These warm days always end in hot sticky nights; they’re always the worst. You can feel the sheen of sweat that covers you, making you feel icky, the fan doing little to ease your heated skin.

For what feels like the hundredth time, you glance at the alarm clock next to you and watch as it turns from 1:43 to 1:44. Thank fuck it’s Friday; you’re not in the mood to get up in the next 4 hours and get ready for college, running on an hour or two of sleep. Your sleep schedule is already fucked as it is and you’re planning to use this weekend to catch up. And that’s when you hear the ping from your phone — it lights up with Eren’s text, illuminating the small corner of your room.

Happy 4/20, you gonna celebrate with me?

What a stupid question.

Did he really think you’d be awake? Of course he knows you are. He’s the one who has fucked up your sleep schedule by taking you on these late night spliff sessions.

You’re almost grateful for Eren’s invitation. Truthfully, you’re willing to make any excuse to escape this uncomfortable and stuffy room. Your reply comes out fast, and you hope it doesn’t look desperate.

I’m down, you picking me up?

It takes him a little longer to reply; he’s probably getting his shit ready, stuffing his pockets full of wraps and little weed baggies. You wouldn’t be surprised if he forgets to bring a lighter. You could count on both hands all the times Eren invited you to one of these sessions but forgot to bring one. The last time the both of you were about to light up, his lighter broke and he didn’t bring a spare. You better remind him, because he’s definitely smoked a blunt already, and his memory is not the best when he’s high.

Make sure you bring two lighters. Don’t want one to run out now, do we? That would just be embarrassing.

And you can’t help the small pang of excitement when you see the little bubble of dots that let you know he’s typing.

Haha fuck you. I’ll let you know when I’m here.

You smirk at his response. Dumbass would have totally forgotten.

So you start to get ready, taking off your pyjamas and putting on a pair of shorts and a hoodie, stopping to look at yourself in the mirror.

You take in your appearance. If someone couldn’t already tell by the dark circles around your eyes, your messy hair definitely gives away your struggle to fall asleep. You think about taking a quick shower to freshen up a bit before you head out, but then again, it’s only Eren. He’s seen you worse than this.

Your fingers run over your outfit: an old hoodie that has a few holes in it and a pair of shorts that you can’t even remember buying. It is still warm outside and you think about swapping your hoodie for a t-shirt, but you’re usually out for a couple hours and that’s when it starts to cool down and become a little chilly. Before you can even decide, you hear Eren’s car pull up outside.

The honk sends you flying down the stairs and you almost trip over yourself. You can’t stop how giddy you feel, and you know there’s a big stupid grin on your face. Still, you can’t find it in yourself to care.

Just before you open the door, you check yourself over one more time — keys, wallet, phone, lighter. Just in case. With your shoes barely on, you lock the door behind you and rush down the front yard. The cool air of the evening feels wonderful, and you welcome it as it hits your flushed skin. You feel it wash over you and you’re suddenly glad you decided on the hoodie, because you can already feel the goosebumps spreading across your bare legs.

You can see the outline of Eren's profile through the driver's window and you almost gasp. His hair is pulled haphazardly to the back of his head, the loose strands of hair too short to frame his dark face. The light from street lights does a good job at illuminating his strong jaw, and you wonder if it really is just the cold air causing the goosebumps.

You hope the redness in your cheeks disappears before you get in the car. Eren would definitely make fun of you if he noticed.

“Hey.”

He leans forward and grabs the coat that lays across the passenger seat, throwing it into the back before you hop in. “Hey. Merry 4/20 or whatever. You ready to celebrate my favourite holiday of the year?”

His speech comes out a little slurred; if you couldn’t already tell by the overwhelming sweet smell in the car, he’s already high, or at least on the verge. You wonder what your parents would think if they saw you now, in the passenger seat of the campus stoner's car on the way to smoke blunts and drink cheap alcohol. What they don’t know won’t kill them, right?

“It’s not a holiday, Eren. Stop looking for an excuse to smoke.”

You’ve known Eren for quite some time now. You were in the same biology class in high school and now you're both going to the same college. He had come up to you in the library when you were sitting behind your laptop, a pile of textbooks scattered on the desk as you studied for a chemistry paper. It was nothing too major, but you always get stressed and frantic two weeks before any exam. Eren must have noticed this, because he offered some friendly advice — a coping mechanism, if you will.

One thing led to another, and then suddenly you were in his dorm room, a bong in one hand and a lighter in the other. You started visiting him more and more, staying for longer and longer, to the point where you’d have to put your clothes through the washer twice just to get rid of the obvious scent of weed. Yeah, you failed that chem exam two weeks later. But we mustn’t dwell on these things. Life goes on.

“Hey, I’m being good. I decided I’m only gonna smoke on holidays.” What a liar. You would bet everything in your bank account that he wouldn’t last long.

“Eren, if you only smoked on holidays, then that’s means every fucking day is a holiday.” He reaches in between the two of you and turns up the music.

“Yeah, and if I was president, I’d make every day a fucking holiday.” You could only imagine the state America would be in if he was president. At least weed would be legal; that would be his first order of business no doubt.

“Well it’s good you’re not president then, isn’t it?”

He chuckles next to you, taking one hand off the wheel to pass you a little box, nudging it into your shoulder.

“Shut up and open your gift.”

With a confused look on your face, you take it. It’s long but small, and wrapped up in a ribbon which he’s tied into a little bow on the top.

“What is this?” He’s smiling like a toddler.

“If I was gonna tell you then I wouldn’t of fucking wrapped it up now would I? Open it.”

And so you pull at the little bow, the ribbon easily sliding off the box. You lift the lid and inside is a messily rolled up blunt laying nicely on a mini velvet cushion. You roll your eyes.

“Did you really just gift wrap a blunt?”

He looks at you, eyes flitting between you and the box. “Wow, not even a thank you? If you’re that ungrateful then I’ll have it back.” He reaches over to the passenger seat to swipe the blunt from your fingers, but you’re quicker.

“Gotta be quicker than that, loser.” He feigns hurt before returning his attention back to the road.

“I blame it on the weed, makes my reactions a little slow.”

“Don’t tell me that when you’re driving a fucking car,” you exclaimed.

“Hey, out of all the times I’ve driven high, I have never crashed.” Well that’s just a lie. Did he forget that you were in the car with him when he crashed into the back of the car in front of you? Your mom wasn't too happy about that, but you're an adult now; she can’t exactly stop you from seeing him.

“Oh really? What about that time you literally drove into the back of some dude's car who then wanted to beat the shit outta you? Or did you burn that incident out of your memory?” You remind him.

“Hey, that one doesn’t count. He was break-checking me and that asshole had it coming. He’s fucking lucky I wasn’t in the mood to fight. Prick didn’t know what he was getting himself into.”

“Wasn’t in the mood to fight? More like too scared.” You tease Eren all the time about it but to be honest, you always feel safe when he’s driving. Okay, yeah, he drives when he’s high — but he’s smoked so much weed throughout his life that he seems 100% more capable than when he’s sober. You’d trust him with your life, much to your mother’s disgust.

“Did you see him?! He looked 6”4 and was built like a brick-shit house! I never start a fight that I know I’m going to lose. Work smarter not harder, that’s how I’ve survived this long.”

You chuckled a smile spreading across your lips “Well let’s keep it that way. Eyes on the road, buckaroo.”

••••••••••••

Half a blunt, three beers each and a half hour car ride later, you arrive at the beach. It’s just past 3am and the horizon is slightly tinged a light blue, a hint that the sun will soon bring a new day. The salty air is refreshing as it fills your lungs and you can feel your muscles ease as the high kicks in. The heat seems to have left and the cold is now settling in, making you contemplate winding up your window. Eren must’ve noticed the way you shiver because he winds it up for you from the controls on his side.

“Thanks. You looking out for me?”

“Always.” It’s true, he always has.

It must be late, because the last time you heard the presenter on the radio must have been at least five songs ago. Now the faint sounds of 90s classics seep out of the speakers one after the other. Perfect background noise for a spliff session. You lean your head back against the seat and close your eyes, enjoying the feeling of your muscles becoming light and airy.

“It’s almost 4:20am, how are we gonna celebrate?” Eren questions over the sound of the radio.

“I dunno, like we always do? Smoke weed, drink beers, talk shit and then get a happy meal on the way home.” You turn your head towards him. “What could be better than that?”

Fucking you in the back seat of his car while smoking a fat joint. That would definitely top a McDonald’s happy meal anyday.

“Sounds fucking phenomenal. Nothing I’d rather do more.” Apart from being balls deep inside of that pretty cunt with one of your tits sucked into his mouth.

He passes you the blunt he’s smoked halfway down and watches you lick your lips before slipping it between them and taking a deep breath in.

Eren always thought you looked your best when high. The weed seemed to plump your skin, creating a certain rose tinted look about you. Your eyes always looked brighter too, dewy and a little glazed. He imagined that’s exactly what you’d look like when you’re horny, and he’s not wrong.

Ever since you first started smoking weed, you’ve noticed it’s made you a little hornier than usual. You don’t know what happens to you; it’s like it flicks a switch inside of you and your senses become heightened. You get a little needy and a little touchy, and you definitely become a little wetter than when you’re sober. Oh boy… when you’re with Eren and smoking? You can barely contain yourself. Just two blunts in and all that man had to do was look at you and you’d be like a bitch in heat.

You had a feeling Eren might feel the same way, but in all this time you’ve been doing this with him, he’s never once made a move. You’re starting to think that maybe he doesn’t feel the same after all, or is he just waiting for you to make the first move?

Well, you’re only half a bunt and three beers in. Maybe you’ll start to become a little bolder after another one and a half blunts and two more beers.

••••••••••••

Time seems to fly. Eren’s telling you a story about some girl he sells weed to on the college campus and how she offered to suck his dick to pay for it. He then told her that he's not being ungrateful, but he actually needs the money to pay for beers for a party he was going to. A blowjob would be great and all, he had explained, but it’s not what he was looking for.

Somewhere in between him mentioning a blowjob, and something about being slapped in the face by the pre-mentioned girl, you stopped listening. The beer and weed has truly kicked in, but is mixed with something more dangerous. You can’t help the way your eyes flit towards his lips, red and plump, watching them form words you’re not listening to and wondering how soft they’d feel on yours. Your gaze then starts to travel lower and you’re only just now noticing that he’s wearing grey sweatpants; you can definitely see the faint outline of his dick from your position in the passenger seat, making your thoughts go racing.

“Hey, you still there?” Eren must’ve noticed that you’ve stopped paying attention.

You don’t know why you say it, but there was no stopping the question falling from your lips.

“Can I suck your dick?” You only realise what you have said when you look back up at Eren. His eyes are wide and he looks like a deer caught in headlights. Fuck.

He kind of just sits there, mouth slightly open as he processes what you’ve just said to him. Did he hear you right? No, must’ve just been the weed messing with him. Still, he’s hopeful and presses on.

“What?”

Oh shit, you really just did say that. You think about ways to recover from this — and fuck, there’s no way your fuzzy brain will be able to come up with something that makes sense. You’re feeling bold, so you decide to roll with it.

“You heard me. So you gonna let me suck it or not?”

You’re staring right at Eren and this must be real. You really did ask to suck his dick, didn’t you? From the look in your eyes, you were deadly serious, and fuck, he loves how forward you are with it. His dick twitches in his sweatpants, although he wants to toy with you first, make you panic a little.

“That’s pretty forward if you, isn’t it?” A smirk spreads across Eren’s face and you feel the boldness fly out of you for nerves to take its place. Somehow you persist. There’s no going back now, so it's time to go big or go home.

“The offer won’t stand for much longer.” A lump starts to form in your throat and your mouth goes dry.

Eren pushes his seat back and lets his red rimmed eyes drink you in, tongue swiping his bottom lip as they work their way up your body before landing on your eyes. You think he doesn’t notice the way your thighs clench together when the hem of his hoodie rises up just a little, but he does, and this motherfucker enjoys the way you’re squirming next to him. He wonders if your wetness is already pooling and if it’s starting to smear all over his passenger seat below.

He wonders how long you’ve been wanting to ask him that question. Was it since he parked at the beach, or while en route? Maybe even before that. Could it have started when he texted you? Or perhaps you’ve had this feeling for a long time now, back when you’d hang together in his dorm sharing blunts and playing board games. Maybe, just maybe.

While Eren thinks it over, he is definitely enjoying seeing you panic. He makes sure you're watching as he brings the blunt to his lips, wetting them before he takes a hit. He breathes in deep, letting the smoke fill his lungs. In the dim light of his car, you can see the end of the blunt glow, burning a deep amber.

When Eren puffs out, he’s veiled in the smoke; he looks a little intimidating, eyes never leaving yours, and you can tell he’s thinking about saying something.

“Alright.”

Alright? That’s all he’s gonna say? He’s not going to question it? Fuck it. Two can play at that game.

Without taking your eyes off of him, your cold fingers dip underneath the waistband of his sweatpants and he hisses through his teeth at the sudden contact. Of course he’s not wearing underwear. Fucking typical.

You pull his dick out from his sweatpants and it’s already hard, twitching ever so slightly at your cool touch. You almost gasp at the sight of it and your thighs clench — it’s fucking pretty. It’s long but girthy and it’s a pretty tanned shade with a blushed pink tip. There’s a prominent vein along the underside of it and you feel it bulge under your fingertips. However, your favourite thing has to be his balls. They are big and plump and full, and you can’t wait to fuck them cupped inside your hand.

With delicate fingers, you wrap them around his shaft and bring it towards your mouth, tongue ghosting over his tip and letting your warm breath fan over him. You’re a fucking tease and he tries his absolute hardest not to buck up towards your tongue, keeping his eyes on yours. He’s not letting you win.

You feel your composure start to falter when you see Eren’s leaking tip, and you can’t help but kitten lick at his head. He sucks in a breath through his teeth when you do so, and when you look up, he's staring right back at you, urging you on with his eyes.

When you taste Eren on your tongue, you can’t help but suck it into your mouth ever so slightly. He tastes a little tangy and a little sweet, no doubt from the weed that’s running through his veins. Before long, you give in quite easily, so eager to feel his dick fill your throat.

You sink your mouth onto him slowly, hollowing out your cheeks. You can feel the swell of saliva fill your mouth and coat his dick in a thick sheen. He moans at the sensation and his head tilts back, hands balling into fists at his side. His moans encourage you to move, and soon, you’re bobbing up and down on his dick at a nice rhythm.

Eren is thick and long, his tip hitting the back of your throat every now and then. Before long, pull him out of your mouth and catch your breath. A string of saliva hangs from your mouth to his dick and he grunts at the sight, fingers working their way into your hair and guiding your mouth back to his dick.

“Fuck. Don’t stop baby girl, keep going. You’re doing so well for me.”

Your knees tremble at his words and you take him back inside your mouth, one hand coming up to cup his balls.

The noises coming from you are obscene and dirty and Eren can’t quite believe this is fucking happening right now — can’t quite believe that you’re sucking the life out of him in the driver’s seat of his car. He almost thinks he’s dreaming.

Eren’s hips start to buck up into you and he moans at the way you choke around him, his fingers gripping your hair tighter and starting to push down on your head. Your saliva collects at the base of his dick, and the way you massage his balls almost sends him into overdrive; he has to pull you off.

“Ah shit – you need to stop. I’m gonna cum if you don’t.”

You try to catch your breath and you probably look like a mess, hair stuck to your saliva covered face, skin flushed and tears pricking your eyelashes. But he still looks at you like you’ve hung the moon and the stars.

“C’mere.”

Before your brain has time to catch up, Eren is leaning forward and pulling you onto him, arms circling around the small of your back as he pulls you impossibly closer, chest to chest. His mouth is on yours in an instant, tongue swiping at your lips and dipping into your mouth. You can feel the flex of his jaw against your palms.

He’s intoxicating; you can taste the sweet tang of weed that laces his tongue and it leaves you wanting more. It’s just not enough.

As if reading your mind, you feel the faint touch of Eren���s fingers as they toy with the hem of your hoodie. His fingers have always been cold and you hiss at the sudden feeling, moaning into his mouth as lithe fingers work their way up and under the hem running over the warm skin of your torso. His touch causes a shiver of goosebumps to ripple across your skin.

Fuck, you feel like a giddy school girl. You’ve done this before, but never with Eren. The butterflies are soaring around your stomach at the way he touches you, and there’s something about the way he talks to you that fills you with nerves.

You are pulled back from your thoughts when his calloused fingers cup the soft flesh of your breasts. You feel Eren’s breath hitch — and that’s when you remember that you’re not wearing a bra.

Below you, Eren chuckles to himself at his little discovery. His thumbs run over your hardened nipples and, fuck, were you braless this whole time? Sitting next to him, bare breasts rubbing against the material of your hoodie? He wonders if your pretty little cunt is just as bare and his heart races at the thought. His weed filled brain just can’t take it, and he starts to buck up into you to find out.

“No bra?” Eren whispers against your neck, you can feel the curl of his lips on your flesh, a devious smirk spreading across his face. “Was that for me?”

Eren chuckles into your skin when your thighs clench around him at his words. Of course it was for him. Everything you do is.

He briefly removes his mouth from yours to pull your hoodie up and over your head, throwing it behind him where it’ll get lost somewhere in the back seat. Then he pauses and leans further back in his seat taking you all in. His hoodie is pulled up slightly to reveal his toned stomach underneath, and you can’t help but lean closer, placing your hands onto him. You hope it looks like you're just trying to steady yourself and not feel him up — you don’t want to look too eager, like you’ve been desperate to touch him like this. But of course it doesn’t work. Eren is always so observant.

You watch as his eyes, red rimmed and glazed, fall onto your hands as they splay themselves across his flesh, fingers digging into his skin ever so slightly. He definitely notices the goosebumps when your hands meet his hard stomach and if his ego wasn’t big enough already, it definitely is now. You’ve wanted him just as much as he’s wanted you, huh?

Eren meets your eyes then, bringing the half-smoked blunt to his chapped lips and taking a long drag, holding it in as it burns down his throat and into his lungs. You wish you could see his thoughts right now; you’d kill to know what was going on in that clouded brain of his.

After what feels like an eternity, he finally releases the smoke and blows it over your half naked form, veiling you in a soft glow, eyes still on yours as if waiting for your next move.

Eren’s silence makes you anxious. You can’t tell if he’s enjoying the view or thinking about changing his mind. The mix of the weed running through your veins and the nerves that Eren’s gaze creates has you feeling a little dizzy and nervous, so you ask him.

“Shotgun me?” You have a coy smile spread across your face, a mischievous glint in your eyes as your hand wanders a little further down. How could he possibly say no?

With a smirk of his own, Eren’s words come out slow and a little slurred as they rasp past his lips. You’ve always loved how gravely and hoarse his voice gets when he’s high. It never fails to make your pussy gush.

“Fuck yes.” His hands tighten their hold on your thighs before he brings the joint back to his lips.

He remembers the first time he ever shot-gunned you. He never expected you to say yes but he was so, so glad you did.

It was back when you were quite the light weight. You were both in his dorm, your mind hazy with the high just after a few shotguns from him. It was adorable how giddy you’d get, giggling at anything he’d say or do and making shitty dad jokes that you’d find absolutely hilarious. But you’d start to get bold, hands grabbing at his jaw pulling him in to ask for another. Your lips would inch closer until they were just ghosting his own, practically begging to be kissed; he’d never do it though, not if you weren’t ready. But fuck, you made it hard for him.

You’d get so touchy, so needy as the night went on. You’d grab at Eren’s neck to pull him closer and whisper something in his ear. He could feel your hot breath against his skin, lips pressing into the shell of his ear ever so slightly. Eren bets they’d taste delicious, your cherry chapstick mixed with the sweet tang of weed. It’d be hard for him to stop, so he’d never start, instead waiting for you to make the first move.

Soon your hands would start wandering into Eren’s hair asking if you could braid it, and being the secret softy he is, of course he’d let you. You’d be on top of his bed, feet dangling either side of him as he’d sit in between them, fingers drawing little circles into your calves as you work your fingers into his tendrils of hair.

Eren would never admit it, but he loved it when you played with his hair. His whole body would tingle as your nails would scratch against his scalp, and he’d have to stop himself from moaning at your touch, the delicate scratch of your nails sending him into absolute euphoria.

You had to know what you were doing to him when you’d pull a little harder at his strands, the sting almost causing him to moan out, head tilting further back into your touch and brushing against your inner thighs. It’d take every last ounce of his restraint to not turn his head and press a wet open-mouthed kiss into your flesh, to pull your joggers down and dip his tongue into your sweet folds and make you writhe above him just like he is below you right now.

But over time, you’d come round to his dorm more often, and soon you weren’t so much of a lightweight. You stopped being giddy and needy as you grew into your tolerance, even able to handle a full blunt all by yourself. Eren was almost proud at how far you’d come, but it meant no more shotgun kisses and no more hair braiding. He'd be lying if he said he didn’t miss it.

So you could only imagine how excited he is right now as you straddle him, clothed pussy rubbing into his bare, throbbing dick and making a mess of your shorts.

Eren’s fingers wrap around your jaw to hold you in place, thumb swiping across your lips and coaxing them open. He just has to dip the tip of his thumb inside and watch as you suck it into your mouth, tongue swirling around the digit. He reels you a little closer, just enough to keep you wanting more as he blows out, basking you in a cloud of his smoke.

You breathe it in and it goes straight to your head, swirling around and making you feel as light as air. Fuck, you’ve missed this. You can’t help the way your hips grind down into him as he does it again, tongue dipping into your mouth this time.

“Look at you. So desperate to have me inside of you, huh?” God, Eren loves it when you’re dying for him, and nothing can ease your hunger except his dick stuffing you full. You’re becoming impatient, but before you can take matters into your own hands, you feel Eren’s wandering fingers dancing over your clothed slit. The fabric of your shorts and underwear act as a barricade, and you feel the ever growing need to feel those fingers deep inside of you. It becomes unbearable, as if you just might combust.

Callused fingers carefully rub circles into the fabric and you can feel your excitement as it dampens your underwear under his fingertips.

“I need you. Fuck, Eren, I need your fingers inside of me.” He smirks at how desperate you are and he loves that he can do this to you, make you a begging, pleading mess.

“You're not gonna say please?” Eren can be such a dick sometimes, but you’re in no mind to come back with something smart, your brain is a muddled mess and all you can think about is Eren and his fingers and his dick and how much you need him, all of him. So you just give in, not even trying to be just a little bit subtle about it.

“Ugh, fuck. Please, pl-please. Fuck me with your fingers, god please.” You moan out, writhing under Eren's touch that’s just not quite enough.

“Okay baby girl, pull your shorts down for me.”

Being ever so obedient, you’re quick to remove your shorts, wishing the stupid piece of material was discarded long ago. The man below you groans at the sight that greets him.

You’re wearing a pair of grey lace underwear, the colour of the material making your wetness visible to Eren, and he can’t help but run his index finger along your clothed slit and up to your clit. The action elicits a delicious moan from you and he has to tear his eyes away from your pussy to look at you.

You’re watching Eren’s every move, watching his finger as it circles your clit, your underwear becoming darker as the wetness grows. Your hips start to buck up, desperate to feel that pressure you desire. If Eren had a clear mind and wasn’t higher than the Empire State, he’d make you beg for it, wait till you're on the verge of tears before he gives you what you want. But Eren is just as desperate as you and his composure is on thin ice.

So with one hand, he pushes your underwear to the side and a guttural moan escapes you when you feel Eren’s rough fingertips slide against the delicate flesh of your pussy. They spread your wetness to your clit, and just as promised, Eren dips them between your folds. You gasp as they push past your ring of muscle, curling up into your spongy walls, and you let go of a breath you didn’t know you were holding.

“Fuck, you’re soaking baby. All this for me?” Yes, yes it was. Everything was for him. It always has been and it always will be.

Your cunt sucks Eren in deep; he feels you pulse around his knuckles, sending a pang of desire straight to his twitching dick. He couldn’t even fathom that his dick would soon replace his fingers, deep inside your warm wet walls, pulling him in and milking him dry. The thought has his knees shaking and chest caving in.

His middle finger joins his ring finger inside of you and he moves his wrist positioning it better so that he can pound into you at a quicker pace and finger fuck you from below. He sets a soul-shattering pace and you have to splay your hands across the window to keep you upright. With every thrust, his fingertips hit that sweet spot inside of you — and just when you think it’s too much, his other hand comes up and his fingers start to rub at your clit relentlessly.

You feel the familiar fireworks start to spark in your core, and before you know it, you’re gushing all over him, a moaning, shaking mess as his fingers continue with the same speed.

“Fuck, Eren! It’s too much, I-I can’t take it!” You whimper.

“That’s it baby, I’ve got you, you’re doing such a good job. Fuck, look at you, squirting all over me.”

Eren feels the way you pulse around his fingers after you cum and he collects your juices before pulling out and sucking them into his mouth, moaning at the taste of you.

“Fuck. I can’t wait any longer, baby. I’ve got to be inside of you.”

Before you have time to come down from your climax, he’s pushing your underwear to the side and lining his dick up with your entrance. Slowly, you sink down onto him.

You both moan together as you slowly take him into your warmth inch by inch. You can feel that prominent vein as it bulges against your gummy walls and your pussy quivers at the feeling.

Once Eren is fully sheathed inside the channel of your cunt, your body starts to move of its own accord, desperate to feel the sweet stretch of his dick. You start to grind down into his, but he grips at your hips to stop your movements, keeping you still on top of him. His face is grimaced, eyes screwed shut and he looks like he’s trying to concentrate.

“Ah shit – don’t move. I’ll cum if you do, just let me focus,” Eren hisses through gritted teeth. His confession sends a bolt of electricity straight to your pussy and you clench around him.

“Fuck, don’t do that. Not now, it’s too much.” His grip on you tightens.

“Eren please, I don’t know how much longer I can wait wanna feel you drag inside of me.” Your tiny pleas do little to help his focus. The weed isn’t helping either; it makes him extra sensitive to your warm, wet walls, and he can feel every pulse of your cunt.

You sit above him, cock deep inside of you, cockwarming Eren for what feels like forever. You’re growing a little impatient and almost start moving until you hear him below you.

“Okay baby, ride me.” And that’s all the permission you need as you start to drag your hips across his, the tip of his dick nudging your walls. You moan out when he starts to thrust up into you ever so slightly. He thinks this is the perfect time to reach for his blunt.

One hand is on your hip, swaying back and forth with your movements, while the other holds a blunt between his fingers, offering it to you after he takes a hit every so often and blows it over your body, veiling it in a mist of smoke. Meanwhile, the orange light from the street lights outside basks you in a heavenly glow, softening your skin. Eren catches himself swipe at his bottom lip, pulling the kiss-drunk skin into his mouth ever so slightly. Fuck, you look ethereal. He will forever remember this image; he’ll burn it into the backs of his eyelids and replay it whenever he pleases.

The way your body moves above him has Eren staring in awe. He swears you are a fucking angel sent down to earth just for him. You seem to be basked in a light and it surrounds him and makes his skin hot to the touch. He still can’t believe this is really happening.

Part of Eren wants to flip you over and drive into you from above. He wants to lift your leg over his shoulder and reach just that little bit deeper, tip dragging against that sweet spot inside of you… but why would he when you’re doing a perfectly good job yourself? And he does have the most perfect view from below you; he can see everything from your gushing pussy, from the strings of your cum collecting at the base of his cock which smears all over his thighs, to your perfect tits bouncing so perfectly in front of him. Don’t get him started on that pretty face of yours. If you could personify euphoria, you would be it, eyebrows knitted together, eyes closed and mouth hanging open, all your senses focusing on everything that is him.

Eren can’t help but run his mouth when you look like this above him. Maybe it’s the weed talking, or maybe it’s just his sober thoughts — but fuck, he can’t keep his mouth shut and it makes you go feral.

“What would your mom say if she saw you right now, huh? Her perfect little daughter smoking my weed and fucking me like the dirty slut she is? She’d just about have a heart attack now, wouldn't she?” Eren’s eyes are dark, and they make you feel like you’re doing something you shouldn’t. It gives you butterflies and you feel a wave of desire go straight to your aching cunt.

Eren becomes so talkative when he’s high and he’s definitely had one too many blunts, so there’s no stopping the shit that tumbles out of his mouth. But god, does he sound so fucking good saying it: it’s raspy and whiney and delicious as he praises you, telling you what a good fucking job you’re doing, how you’re taking his dick so well and riding him like a fucking goddess. All the while, his tip throbs and twitches and hits so deep from this angle. It’s almost unbearable.

It’s raw and dirty and so fucking good. It’s everything you could ever imagine and you know you're on the verge of cumming all over him. Not a coherent thought runs through your mind and you can’t seem to form words, yet Eren understands. He can tell by the way your movements have become jerky, hips stuttering with every thrust and your breathing turning fast and shallow. He reaches between where you both connect and presses against your swollen bud, the pressure almost making your knees buckle below you.

“That’s it, baby girl. Cum for me. You’re doing such a good job.” His words of praise, thick with desire and laced with sweetness, are what tips you over the edge. You’ve had many orgasms in your lifetime but not like this, not when you’re high and above Eren-fucking-Jaeger. It feels blissful, so toe curly and so fucking warm. The orgasm starts from your core, spreading to every inch of you from the inside out. You feel weightless and it’s like you're floating.

Eren is not far behind; in fact, the pulsing of your walls has him spilling everything he’s got into you. When he’s high, Eren’s pull out game is non-existent. You could say it was the weed that makes him this way, that it dulls his senses and makes his muscles feel heavy. In reality? It’s not that at all. He’s just too caught up in the moment to stop himself, to pull out and spurt all over your stomach. And why would he when you’re on the pill and feel this good? He’d be a mad man if he didn’t cum inside you.

When Eren does cum, it’s a lot. He always finds his load when he’s high to be double, if not triple the amount than when he’s sober. It comes in thick ropes that paint your walls white and spill into your womb. Guttural, whiny moans push past his lips with every white rope that spurts from his balls. He has to grip onto your hips, hang on for dear life as his orgasm seems to pull him up into the sky and melt all over him.

When Eren comes crashing back down to earth, it’s like he’s been wrapped up in a warm, cosy blanket. His eyes finally flutter open, and he swears he’s met with a literal angel. He truly believes he has died and gone to heaven.

•••••••••••

It’s now 5:17am and you’re both in your clothes again, lying in the back seat of his car. The sun is slowly peeking over the horizon, and Eren is just now sensing his sobriety creep up on him. He feels the heavy weight of your head on his chest, your eyelashes and shallow breath tickling his skin.

He can’t help but look around and reminisce. Hand prints scatter the windows, and no, he won’t wash them. Instead, he’s chosen to keep them where they are, a gentle reminder of what happened here in the early hours of April 20th. A small smile sneaks its way onto his lips as he remembers, faint memories filling his mind.

Your shallow snores are peaceful and Eren feels his eyelids become heavy. He takes one last look down at you, nestled closely to him, a slight glow to your skin, and he can help but hope this won’t be the last time.

© jeanslilslut 2022 please do not plagiarise, steal, modify or repost any of my works.

[ficsforeren]

The Last Song - Chapter 4

Series Masterlist

Pairing: Eren Jaeger X Female Reader

Genre: Rockstar AU, Friends with Benefits, Angst, Smut, Fluff, Romance, Hurt/Comfort, Mutual Pining, Slow Burn

Series Summary: Eren Jaeger has two personas, a charismatic lead vocal who has lost himself in fame, and a boy who struggles with depression, seeking for someone to bring him back to where he was twelve years ago. Where he only knew love in the form of your name.

Chapter Summary:��After the heated moment you spent with him in the car, Eren pays you a visit the next morning, desperate and anxious for answers. How do you feel about him exactly?

Content Warnings:  explicit sex (cunnilingus, blow job, fingering, hand job, car sex, dry humping, drunk sex, public sex, unprotected sex, one night stand, choking, treating women like objects, dub-con, corruption, face-sitting, sex toys, daddy kink, praise kink, slight degradation, etc), substance abuse (use of drugs, alcohol, tobacco), severe abandonment issues, childhood trauma, anxiety attacks, depression, adultery, physical abuse towards men and women, family issues, abusive parents, crude words, dark humor, mention of sexual assault/rape, harassment, car accident and child abuse.

Poster art by the most talented @rainbuniart (follow her on Twitter)

When twenty-one-year-old Eren Jaeger asked you whether he could visit your parents’ home the following weekend, you didn’t think that he’d show up at your house at ten in the morning with his hair slicked back, the end of his locks brushing against his nape, and his piercing off. Dressed sharply in a pair of black pants, he wore a white buttoned-up shirt placed underneath a fit black blazer that showcased his broad shoulders.

He was… too dapper to be visiting a friend’s house and honestly? You weren’t sure what to say. Or to feel, for that matter. He had already made you feel things you shouldn’t have felt when you got reunited with him in your first week in college. And now he looked like he was about to ask your parents’ permission to take your hand in marriage and—

“Why are you so dressed up?” You asked him with a frown before your mind started to wander somewhere else, forgetting to offer him a friendly greeting. Unlike him, you were simply dressed in your sweatpants and shirt, hair all tousled from laying around in bed all morning with your phone in hand, scrolling through Pinterest.

“I’m not dressed up,” Eren stated, nervous fingers playing with the button on his collar. “This is how I dress every day.”

“You’ve never worn a blazer in your life before, have you?”

Eren sighed, half-glaring at you. “Look, I’m meeting your parents. I’m just being respectful.”

“You’re meeting my parents as my friend, not my boyfriend. They’re gonna get the wrong idea, dumbass.” But you opened your door wider, letting him in anyway. “Well, it’s gonna be fine once I tell them your name, I’m sure.”

“But how do I look?” Eren was noticeably nervous and you wondered why. This was a friend visiting another friend’s home. There was no reason for him to be so nervous.

You held back a yawn. “You look so handsome, it’s making me nauseous.”

“Honey, who is it—” Your mother appeared from the kitchen, head peeking through the doorframe. She gasped once her eyes landed on the boy standing next to you. “Oh my God!” She quickly spun around to shout loud enough for your father who was sipping coffee in the living room to hear, “Darling, come quick! Our daughter has finally brought home a man!”

“Jesus Christ,” you muttered, sending him a look. “See? They’re getting the wrong idea.”

Eren’s mouth turned upside down, seemingly impressed at himself. “I look like a man now.”

“Shut up.” You rolled your eyes, drawing your attention back to your mother. “Mom, this is Eren. Remember? Eren Jaeger from junior high?”

She had her eyebrows furrowed, still shamelessly gawking at him as she walked closer to where you were standing. “Eren? That Eren?” She asked, eyes widening once the memories of thirteen-year-old boy Eren resurfaced. “Oh my dear God, look how much you’ve grown up! Well done, puberty!”

While you were busily palming your face in shame, Eren let out a soft chuckle, performing a bow. “Hello. It’s been a while. You still look as beautiful as always.”

“Oh my,” she fanned her face, looking all gleeful as she slapped your father by the shoulder when the man finally joined you in the hallway. “Are you dating anyone right now?”

“Mom, Dad is literally standing next to you.”

Your father flashed a smile, hand rising mid-air in such an awkward way, it nearly made you cringe in pain. He was most likely embarrassed at how your mother was reacting, just like you. “Hi,” he greeted and Eren nodded his head politely in response.

“I’m not asking for me, silly,” your mother scolded, “I’m asking for you.”

“Wha—” You choked, face heating. “Why would you—Eren and I are just friends! We’re not gonna date, mom, it will feel weird!”

“Yeah,” Eren chimed in quietly, looking away. “Weird…”

What’s weird was how he behaved at the question, but maybe you were just thinking too much about it. He was probably just abashed by it as you were. “Besides,” you added, “Eren’s not interested in girls.”

“Oh, I see,” your mother said, looking unnecessarily sympathetic before she clapped her hands together. “Well, it’s all fine, honey. I have a nephew that’s just about your age who will be perfect for you—”

“I mean,” you could feel your patience wearing thin. “He’s not interested in dating girls because he has a lot of things going on in his life right now. He’s in a band. He just signed a deal with a record label.”

“Oh, wow, that’s such great news!” Without warning, she leaped forward to give him a hug and Eren just stood there, frozen. When she broke away, she pouted at him. “Eren, honestly, you should’ve paid us a visit sooner.”

“I’m sorry…” He smiled back, eyes turning soft like how a little boy regarded his mother. “I couldn’t keep in touch before but now that I’m going to the same college as your daughter, I’m sure I could visit more often.”

“As you should!” She poked him square in the chest. “When you were gone, all my daughter could do was just talk about how she missed you every day—”

“OKAY!” You quickly interrupted, latching your hands on Eren’s shoulders as you pushed him from behind. “We’re gonna head to my room now, bye.”

But as you walked up the stairs, your mother said, “Honey, leave the door open.”

“Mom! It’s just Eren!”

“Yes, but he looks like that now.” She emphasized a certain word that caused Eren’s ears to grow bright red. “And you’re both still young. You got all that hormones going inside—”

“Oh my God, I’m not talking to you ever again,” you said, pushing him harder. “Let’s go.”

Eren waved a hand, looking slightly apologetic on your behalf. “Bye.”

“Stay as long as you want, Eren. You can spend the rest of your life with us too if you marry—”

“JESUS, MOM!”

***

“Welcome to my humble lair,” you muttered to him as you dragged open your door. The morning sunlight was still warm on your cheeks, seeping through your window and yet you already felt mentally drained as if you had been awake for days. You threw yourself on your bed, half-groaning half-sighing to your pillow.

Eren closed the door behind him, pressing his back against it. “So, umm…” He placed both hands inside his pockets, head leaning against the surface. “You missed me?”

“Kill me,” you mumbled into your pillow, not even bothering to look up as you knew your cheeks must be turning scarlet. “If you’re gonna tease me about it, just kill me.”

“Right, sorry.” Eren was biting his lip, trying to hold back his grin. “Talked about me every day, huh?”

“Eren.”

“Okay, I’ll stop.” He chuckled and in the silence that stretched between you, you sat up on your bed, feet dangling around the edge. You stole a glance at him, noticing that he was observing you with his beautiful jade green eyes, a smirk painting his face.

You squinted your eyes at him, warning him. “What?”

“Nothing.” He shrugged nonchalantly but the twinkle in his eyes still shone mischievously. “I was just wondering whether you cried when you thought about me—”

“Oh my God, I’m gonna kill you.”

Eren dodged your little punches so effortlessly as he laughed like a little boy, chortling in the way that was so contagious, it made you—who was flustered all the way down to your toes—smile as well. By the time you tried to land your fourth punch, Eren grabbed you by the waist with one hand, with his other one holding your hand mid-air.

The sudden proximity made you nervous. “Eren—let go—”

“I missed you too, you know,” he confessed, so softly as if he was whispering. His lean fingers curling around yours, holding your hand in his larger one. “I missed you every day.”

He was so close, his lips were still smiling but they didn’t do it out of amusement. His gaze turned affectionate, his minty breath caressed your cheek. The hand he kept on your waist slid up your body, now filling the space between your shoulder and your neck, his fingertips caressing your jawline. “Did you miss me?” He quietly asked, both his eyes and his voice were hypnotizing.

You swallowed hard. “You already know how I felt.”

“I want to hear you say it.”

“I…” As if you were under his spell, your eyes were drawn to his lips, entranced and captivated. “I, uhh…”

A sudden knock on the door startled you both, leaving you stunned. Eren was quick to land back on reality, pushing you away by the shoulders. The moment—whatever it was between you—ended so abruptly that you stumbled on your feet, feeling lightheaded as if you just got woken up from a dream. “Yes, Mom?” You croaked out.

“I brought you guys some snacks.”

You and Eren exchanged glances, couldn’t maintain eye contact for even a second before you both blushed and kept yourself busy doing anything else. You answered the door while he went deeper into your room, choosing to go through the pictures you framed on the wall.

“Honey,” your mother warned you again. “Keep the door open.”

“Yes.” And this time, you wholeheartedly obliged.

“Holy shit,” Eren said, gathering your focus back on him. He had taken off his blazer, now working on rolling up his sleeves to his elbows as he stared at an old picture of you and him—the one that you took during a summer festival on your second year of junior high. “I can’t believe I used to have that haircut,” he commented, grimacing at the sight of his choppy bangs. “Jesus, I was so ugly back then.”

“I think you looked cute.” It came out so naturally from you that it surprised you both, making the tension ten times more awkward than it already was. Thankfully for you, Eren had stopped being a smartass, knowing how his previous antic led to—

What was about to happen before? You thought, heart racing fast. It was such a bad idea, you noticed, to be with him alone in your room like this. It felt different than having him in your dorm—usually because Petra was always around to interrupt. Right now it just felt… intimate. And you were more conscious about the fact that you had a man in your room, instead of your best friend—someone who you had known for years.

“Oh, there it is!” Eren chirped, snapping you out of your reverie. He had his eyes on the acoustic guitar you bought for him after graduation—the one that he told you to keep until he came back and played it for you again. He had a wide smile attached to his lips, face glowing excitedly as he took a seat in your swivel chair, placing the instrument on his lap.

“Sorry if it’s a bit dusty,” you said, “I forgot to put it back in the case before I moved out. I wanted to take it with me to the dorm but…”

“It’s all right.” Eren thanked you more with his eyes than his smile. “Thank you for keeping it for me.”

Your chest felt warm, joy running underneath your skin. “You’re welcome.”

“Now, please, have a seat, Princess.” He gestured toward the bed. Scrunching your nose at his unusual pet name, you took a seat at the edge of your bed. “I have promised you that I’d play this guitar for you again and I’m keeping that promise. So, what song shall I serenade you with today, Your Majesty?”

“Anything,” you reply as you leaned forward to rest your elbows on your thighs. “I don’t care what it is. I just want to see you play. I want to hear you sing.”

The sudden seriousness in your voice caught him off guard and Eren had to clear his throat to regain his earlier confidence. “Well then, uhh…” He paused, taking a moment to think. His heart palpitated, his mind running wild. Somehow, sitting in front of you right now felt more pressuring than standing on a stage, in front of hundreds of pairs of eyes judging him for his talent. And the reason for that was simple.

He didn’t care about the audience. He cared about you.

He loved you.

And this… was a way to show you how much.

He took a deep breath, resting his shaky fingers on the steel strings. Here goes nothing, he thought, eyes closed but once he separated his lips, melodies echoed to your ears. Soft and beautiful, it reminded you of the trickle of raindrops on your window after a long day of being surrounded by boisterous conversations, or the small waves hitting your feet as you basked in the glow of the sunset.

(Click here if you want to hear Eren's song as you read)

“My love goes out of my heart and into the wind. Out my guitar and under your skin.” He slowly opened his eyes, catching yours, and kept them locked. “Into your house and out of your headphones. That's where my love goes.”

He played his guitar, plucking on the strings, steady and gentle. The melody was heartwarming, somewhat bright, and happy compared to the stuff he wrote recently. Both the music and the lyrics reminded you of young, innocent love. And it was the first time you ever heard him sing something about love too.

“Wherever you go, I'll follow,” Eren sang, a corner of his lips curving upward as he stole glances at you. But it wasn’t his usual impish, cocky smirk. It was sheepish and playful—like the little smile he showed when he was young. “Don’t worry about tomorrow. I will be in your shadow, walking right beside you every day.”

When he sang, it created a memory and reminding you of one at the same time—a memory that was so sweet, so soothing, one that you would replay over and over again behind closed eyelids before your exhaustion took you away to another state. You were thrown back to the past where you found yourself sitting next to him on the grass, with him holding a guitar in his lap and with you leaning your head on his shoulder.

“I'll be the one to save ya. When I put my pen to paper. Feels like it brings us closer. Even when you're so far away.”

You could imagine fourteen-year-old Eren singing this to you. Could imagine the way he would sneak glances at you but avert his eyes away the second you caught his eyes. Could imagine the rosy shade on his beautiful sun-kissed cheeks. Could imagine the little smile he’d keep to himself when he saw you bobbing your head to the song.

“You will never be lonely. Just relax and listen to me.” He sent you a wink, more playful than seductive, but it didn’t fail to make you blush. “I breathe the air that you breathe. I am always with you in disguise.” His face was so open, so relaxed, and you thought that this was probably the happiest he had ever looked as he played his music.

He reminded you of the ice cream cones you shared in the summer. Of the taste of chlorine on your tongue when he splashed water to your face, legs kicking each other inside the pool. He reminded you of the old days, the precious old memories, the laughter he gave you, and the love you gave him.

“That's where my love goes.” The notes went higher and Eren had his eyebrows sewn together as he strummed his guitar harder. He was no longer telling a story, he was pouring out his feelings. “Tell me, can you hear me now. I’m screaming out so loud. It goes out of my heart and into the wind. Out my guitar and under your skin.”

You could feel goosebumps breaking on your skin, completely forgot how to blink or even breathe as the world dissolved into blur except for him. Eren, with his captivating green eyes. Eren, with his passion for music. Eren, laying his soul bare before your eyes.

“My love goes out of your door and into the street,” his voice gradually turned quieter as it reached the end of the song. “Down through the floor and up through your feet.” His eyes still never left yours. “Into your car and out of your radio. That’s where my love goes.”

He let his guitar rang its final note into the air, smiling tenderly at you before it turned sheepish and he broke eye contact. Clearing his throat, he brought the guitar down from his lap, settling it in an upright position between his knees. “So, uh, what do you think?”

“Umm…” Your throat felt parched. “It was…” Beautiful. Amazing. You got me so drawn into the song, I could barely think about anything else but you. “Good.”

“Good?” He raised an eyebrow, shaking his head in amusement. “Well, aren’t you hard to impress, Princess.”

You wanted to correct your words, wanted to tell him how you felt but you couldn’t. Your heart was beating so fast now that you realized the lyrics were about love—about confession. And with the way he was gazing at you as he sang—

Stop. You’re just thinking way over your head now.

“Is it, uhh,” Keep yourself together! “Is it one of your songs? I mean—did you write it?”

Eren took a few seconds before answering, making you ponder, head swirling from all the possibilities.

The truth was, yes. He wrote it. He wrote it years ago as a promise. He wrote it for you and no one else. It was the song he wanted to perform for you as a graduation gift, along with the love letter he spent hours trying to come up with the right words. It was the song—one that he never got to give.

But now that he had sung it to you, he wasn’t brave enough to admit it.

“No,” he confirmed, standing up from his seat. “It’s just… a song from this band I liked back in high school.” He placed the guitar back inside the case, face turning pensive.

“Oh…” You felt uneasy. Doubtful, too. Deep down, you knew he was lying. You just weren’t sure whether you should trust your guts. Because if this song was indeed his, then how should you react? How should you take it? Was this a love confession? Was this his way of telling you how he felt about you?

That’s ridiculous, you thought to yourself. As if he had feelings for me.

“It’s a beautiful song,” you commented, smiling at him more naturally once you had let the thoughts go. “Whose song is it?”

“I don’t remember,” he said, shutting the guitar case. He took a deep breath, keeping himself composed. Once he was sure he could lie better, he turned around to face you properly.

“I’m starving.” He forced himself to smile. “Let’s go get some burgers.”

***

You’re waking up to the sound of your alarm, eyelashes feeling like they’re glued together from how desperate you still crave for sleep. It’s seven am and your work starts in two hours, and yet, all you can do right now is just sprawl there on your bed, eyes locked to your ceilings, wondering what the fuck just happened?

It feels like you just had the longest dream. The longest, sweetest, most thrilling dream you’ve ever had in years. One that you wish could go on forever. But now that you’ve woken up and realized that you need to face the consequences of your actions sooner or later, it feels more of a nightmare instead of one.

Whenever you close your eyes, the memories play like an old movie behind your eyelids.

The memory of Eren drawing near, tongue peeking out nervously from behind his teeth to wet his lower lip before it twirled around yours.

The memory of Eren pushing two fingers inside his mouth, coating them with saliva before he slithered one hand between your legs and slid them inside you.

The memory of Eren, his crimson cheeks and parted lips as he breathily chanted your name, desperate for release but was afraid to beg when you curled your fingers around him.

Fuck, my head hurts.

With wobbly knees, you drag yourself to the bathroom, turning on the shower knob, and let yourself be drenched by scalding hot water as if it could wash the taste of Eren’s bruising kisses on your skin. It doesn’t. Nothing will.

Wiping the steam off your mirror with your bare hand, you stand there, observing your reflection. Angry, purplish marks are forming on the skin above your collarbones, a solid proof that, yes, you did not just dream about your best friend sucking bruises on your neck as he rubbed his cock over you. He did that. And he would’ve probably done a lot more than that if he hadn’t been such a gentleman. You were begging for him to fuck you, for God’s sake.

“What is wrong with me?” You question yourself in disgust, pushing a toothbrush inside your mouth. He’s like a brother to you!

But did you ever really think of him as one? Siblings do not think about shoving their tongues down each other’s throats like you did the entire night after you witnessed him kissing Historia. You weren’t even slightly drunk when you thought about wanting him that way. Or is it just curiosity? A mere physical attraction?

But enough about you, what about Eren? Why did he kiss you back? Why didn’t he stop you?

“So beautiful,” you remembered him say, “So fucking beautiful.”

You shut your eyes, splashing cold water to your face. Does he have feelings for you? If so, why did he never act on it before? Was he ever planning to? He probably wouldn’t have kissed you if you didn’t start it in the first place. Perhaps he was just getting carried away by the moment?

Shit, I don’t get it.

The sound of your front door being unlocked made you gasp, hastily putting on the nearest sweater and jeans you can reach. He’s here, you’re screaming the words in your head, knowing that he’s the only person who owns the key to your apartment beside you. He’s here. Eren’s here. Fuck. Fuck!

You stumble into your living room, almost tripping over your feet before you stop, eyes shaking at the sight of Eren placing his card key on the kitchen counter while carrying a paper bag in one hand. “I brought you, uhh, breakfast,” he stiffly says, teal eyes glossing over your appearance but unable to maintain eye contact. “You were so wasted last night so I got you some aspirin too, just in case.”

It’s seven in the morning and he’s already here bringing everything you didn’t ask him to, but certainly what you need. It’s clear that he’s worried about you when he should’ve been worrying about himself, judging from how heavy his eyebags are from lacking sleep.

And there you are, on the verge of running away, planning to avoid him for as long as you can.

You’re the worst.

“How are you feeling?” He questions. Eren is dressed casually in a pair of navy blue jeans and a white shirt with sleeves rolled up until they reached just a few inches below his shoulders. He’s fresh out of the shower too, seeing how damp his locks are as they brush against his shoulders. You catch a whiff of soap and mint that fills the air once you get closer to retrieve the bag from his hand.

“I’m okay. And thanks for this.” You manage not to stutter your word but can barely do anything about the quiver in your voice. “Last night, uhh—”

“Oh, you fell asleep in the car,” he hastily interrupts. “I didn’t have the heart to wake you up so I just carried you to the bed.”

Your face heats up at the thought of him carrying you protectively in his arms, taking off your shoes, even going as far as covering you up with your quilt. “T-thank you. Why didn’t you just crash the night here?”

“I couldn’t. Not after…” His head spins as he tries to find the right term without making the situation more awkward than it already is. With a flush blooming on his cheeks, Eren averts his gaze. “Well, you know.”

Fuck, I shouldn’t have asked. “So, what did you bring me, some donuts?” It’s terrible the way you suddenly change the topic but you’re desperate and your brain isn’t functioning well as you can barely think about anything else but the way he touched you just a few hours ago.

Eren holds his ground but his heart is sinking heavily to his stomach. He chews on his lip as you rummage through the paper bag with shaky hands. It kills him to see how jittery you act around him. Wanting the tension to stop suffocating you both, he firmly states, “I think we should talk.”

Your movements gradually come into a halt, looking back at him with weary eyes, a timid smile, and a throbbing heart. “Yeah, I think we should.”

***

A minute—or maybe two? An hour? Honestly, it feels like forever—has passed in silence with you sitting on one corner of your couch and Eren being perched on the other end. You secretly wish that your couch is five meters long so you won’t accidentally brush your finger against his or something else that will feel just as awkward.

You both know what you need to talk about. It’s just… None of you wants to do it.

“Last night—“ You both end up saying at the same time—or shouting, more likely, from being too pressured by the tension that stretches between you. "Sorry..." You clear your throat. “You go first.”

Eren keeps his eyes on his lap as he rubs the back of his neck with one hand. “Do you, umm… Do you remember what happened last night?”

Truth is, you do but not in detail. Instead of what, you remember more about how you felt during that time. “A bit,” you answer, fiddling with your fingers. “You?”

Eren memorizes everything vividly and he’s not planning to forget it for the rest of his life. He recalls every little sound you made, every little expression that you unveiled, both sweet and sensual, enough to make his heart soar whenever it crosses his mind. But he doesn’t want to sound so attached, doesn’t want to make this appear like a big deal in case that will freak you out. If what keeps you around is him pretending that this doesn’t mean anything, then he’ll do just that. Even when it means everything to him, he’ll pretend for your sake. He’s been pretending in front of everyone else. He’s sure he can do it in front of you too.

But that doesn’t mean he’s not hurt. And if his facade breaks, even for a little, then the pain will show. “Guess it didn’t mean anything to you, huh?”

Your ears perk up at the sound of him mumbling under his breath. “What?”

“A bit,” he promptly corrects, imitating your answer, a little too cold but fortunately for him, you fail to notice. “I remember a bit of what happened. We were pretty drunk last night.” It’s a complete lie because Eren was nowhere near that state. He had two glasses of Gin and Tonic, true, but for someone who could drink an entire bottle of it without experiencing a hangover on the next day, two glasses meant nothing. But if you want to blame everything on the alcohol, then he will too. “How much do you remember from last night?”

“I…” You scratch your cheek, feeling like your face is in flames. You wish there was a way to hide how absolutely mortified you feel. “I remember that I kissed you first. And that, uhh… Y-you kissed me back.”

Eren doesn’t seem as flustered as you are. If anything, he only grows solemn. “What else?”

“I don’t… I’m not sure.” You sigh into your hands. “It all happened too fast, I could only catch glimpses of it. But I remember how it felt… good.”

Only at that, does he blush—eyes turning wide and quivering before he conceals them with his bangs. “Oh…”

His little oh makes your heart race a million times faster than it already is. “Did—did it feel good to you?”

“It felt great.”

“Oh,” you feel both relieved and even more embarrassed at the same time. “Yeah, it was—amazing.”

“Yeah.” Eren leans back on the couch, head lolling to the side as he peeks from underneath his bangs. “We shouldn’t do it again, though.”

“Totally, yeah.” You’re not hyperventilating but it feels like you are. “That would be, uhh, that would be wrong.”

“That would be so wrong.”

“Yeah.”

And silence comes to hang around once more. You keep glancing at the door, knowing that it’s still there if you want to escape. You just can’t seem to muster enough strength to stand on your feet.

“Can I ask you something?” Eren voices and you nod your head, a few times more than necessary. “How do you feel about me?”

Thank God you weren’t drinking your coffee. Otherwise, you would have choked on it. Even right now, you feel like you already are choking. “F-feel?”

Seeing how you’re fidgeting on your seat, fingers fisting against the hem of your sweater, Eren hunches forward, propping his elbows on his knees, eyes deeply peering into yours. “Do you love me?” He asks, voice so delicate accompanied by a pair of green eyes that feel more piercing than ever.

There are thousands of voices screaming inside your head, some providing excuses, some telling you to say the truth, but what is the truth?

“Be honest,” he demands. “Be honest and tell me how you really feel about me.”

“Okay…” You’re running out of breath even when you haven’t done anything but sit and talk. “I’ll be honest.” You owe him this much, tell him the truth. “I love you. I do. But—”

“But,” he chuckles but it’s dark and deep, like something he’s doing out of spite. Seeing you freeze, he smiles, as sweet as it is fake. “Sorry. Go on.”

If you hadn’t cared so much about him, you would’ve escaped right then. Having this conversation is painful. You just wish you could go back to where you were before. “What did you expect me to say, Eren?”

“I didn’t expect anything,” he flatly responds. “I just want to know how you feel.”

“Well, I love you more than anyone else I’ve ever cared about but I never thought of you as a boyfriend. That’s the truth.” You confess everything in one breath. “You’re like a brother to me. But I do have to admit that after I saw you and Historia together, I—“ You tarry, fumbling with your words. “I think a part of me wants you to be something more. I just—fuck, how do I say this?” The intensity of his gaze makes it almost impossible for you to keep up with your thoughts. “I want you. There, I said it.” You’re panting at this point. “I think you’re really attractive—I’ve always thought you were attractive. I don’t know since when I stopped seeing you as the little boy you were when we first met and more as a… As a man. And I want to kiss you. I want to feel you. I want to—” You wish you were still drunk enough to be completely honest just how much your body wants him. But right now, with your heart beating so loudly in your ears you could barely hear anything else, that’s just as far as you can go.

You’re drowning so deep in your thoughts that you forget to take a glimpse at what Eren is doing beside you. He’s looking down, elbows still propped on his lap with one palm hovering above his mouth, hiding half of his face. Every second that passes with him not saying anything feels like you’re sinking an inch deeper into quicksand.

“Eren, please say something. I’m going crazy over here.”

“Right, umm,” he inhales sharply, clasping his hands together. “So… You’re just physically attracted to me.”

Whether it was a statement or a question, you don’t feel like you have to confirm it twice. Instead, you ask, “I’m guessing you are too?”

Eren’s jaw clenches, and with a heavy sigh, he moves on to another topic. “So, where do we stand now?”

“What do you mean?”

“Like… Do you want us to date? Have a relationship?”

But you recall almost every word that he said in the car, about how he didn’t want to be tied up to one person. How he couldn’t afford to be with someone. How he couldn’t trust them enough that they wouldn’t abandon him in the future. And you’re not gonna force him to do that for you, not when you’re still not entirely sure on how you feel about him.

“No,” you say and he’s so appalled, he doesn’t appear like he’s breathing. “No. I want us to stay like this.” I don’t want to put our friendship in jeopardy just because we think we have to take responsibility for what happened last night.

“As friends?”

“Yeah.”

The air is so heavy that it feels like you’re being crushed, slowly but steady. And Eren never utters a word. It’s until he feels his phone vibrating in his pocket that he decides to make a move.

“Well, I gotta go.” You nearly jump in your seat when Eren suddenly makes a sound. “I’m supposed to have an interview in two hours.”

“Aren’t you supposed to be on a break?”

“Yeah, but it’s an offer from a well-known company, so…”

“Right,” you shakily nod, rising from your seat to mirror his action. “Sure. I have to get ready for work too anyway.”

“Yeah.” There’s a pause filled with hesitation before, “So, I guess, we’re back to where we are then,” Eren says, focusing on the little spot between your eyebrows so it only seems like he’s making eye contact when all he’s trying to do right now is the opposite. “This—what happened last night—we’re not gonna act on it.”

“Yes, of course,” you quickly reply, forcing out a laugh. “Why would you think this would change anything—this was just us being drunk and stupid. It doesn’t mean anything.”

“Yeah,” he echoes, fingers curling against the side of his jeans. “Doesn’t mean anything.”

But he’s doing it again, you think. That little gesture and expression he always makes when he says one thing but means a completely different thing. You’re just not sure why he does it.

“It doesn’t… Right…?” You try to confirm, eyebrows furrowed as you try to decipher his expression. “Eren?”

But Eren is a coward, that’s what he is. That’s what he’s always been. He’s too afraid to tell you the truth. That all these years, he’s been wanting—no, needing you more than anyone else. That he’s been loving you as hard as he can in secrets, afraid that you will push him away if you don’t feel the same. And even if you do love him back, what’s next? Be in a relationship where you have two different jobs, living two different lives? What happens when he goes away on tour? What happens when you see him being surrounded by girls? What happens if time and space decide to mess with your relationship?

What happens if he ruins it?

With the way he is now, it’s bound to happen.

Eren can never be able to trust himself to be with someone. He feels like you’re better off without him. Anyone is better off without him. He’s a liability. He’s an empty shell. He doesn’t deserve to be loved, not when his own mother, who was supposed to love him when nobody else did, abandoned him without even a gentle kiss of goodbye. She left with angry tears in her eyes, she left with her palm reddening from making contact with his cheek, she left with his name tumbling off her lips in sheer disgust.

“Eren.”

Your hesitant yet soothing voice brings him back but now that his thoughts are in the past, Eren can finally lie better. “It doesn’t mean anything,” he confirms with a smile, one that matches his empty eyes. Landing a hand on your head, he strokes your hair once. “I gotta go.”

You keep yourself reticent as you escort him to your front door. Your steps feel heavy as if you’re doing something wrong. It felt way easier to kiss him last night instead of bidding him goodbye after your conversation ended so vaguely like this.

“I’m not sure when I’ll be able to visit again,” Eren says, facing you as you stand between the door frame. “I have—I need to work on some new songs. We’re gonna release a new single soon, so…”

“Oh, that’s—That’s great.” You force yourself to smile. “Yeah, just—do what you gotta do. We can hang out when you’re not busy. You already have my number so you can just… call.” You’re seconds away from slapping yourself in the face. It’s so terribly awkward, the way you’re behaving around him, but even then, Eren never comments on it.

“Okay.” His green eyes don’t have the usual spark that makes them beautiful. The color is still stunning, but they only evoke sadness from you. “Well, goodbye.”

“Bye, Eren.”

You usually share a hug with him pecking your cheek in that laidback, playful manner of his every time you part but right now? It feels like it’s already snatching all of your strength to just stay there and maintain eye contact with him. But Eren doesn’t want to make this feel any weirder than it already is. It doesn’t mean anything, right? Then he has to act like it. Be natural.

So he bends his head down and leans in to kiss your cheek. Your eyes nearly flutter close in reflex but you’re too distracted with the way your heart is thrashing wildly inside your chest. His lips are on your skin, and they feel familiar now in a way they’re not supposed to. You suddenly remember how they felt against your own five hours ago. Remember how they’re the ones who’re responsible for the bruises that bloom underneath your turtleneck sweater. Remember how they taste.

And God, did they taste wonderful.

Maybe Eren feels the same way too because he stops, his face hovering close, sharing the minty scent of your breath. As you tilt your head to the side, your lips brush his very faintly but it’s enough to send a zap of electricity coursing through your veins. You’re not sure who leans in first but your lips are reunited once in a chaste kiss. Tentative and slow, testing the water. Once you break away, you both lock gaze and—

Fuck this.

Eren lifts you by the waist and you tangle your legs around him, parting your lips while begging him to do the same. His kisses aren’t gentle, they’re rough and bruising—demanding, just like how he is as a person. He’s consuming you again, every caress of his lips causes your skin to tingle, burned by his passion. He’s carrying you inside your apartment, using your body to close the door, and releases you back to your feet just so he can yank his shirt above his head. The second he tosses the cloth haphazardly to the floor, you’re in his arms again, hands circling his neck, tongue sliding in to taste the roof of his mouth.

“One more time?” He breathes out, rushed and hazy as he leads you to your bedroom.

“One more time,” you agree, even when you’re not sure whether he’s talking about the kiss or something more. The answer is still the same. You let his hand sneak underneath your shirt, his palm flittering above your bra. You topple down to the bed with him crawling on top, his frantic hands undoing his belt while you focus on taking off your sweater, pulling it harshly even when a few strands of hair get caught around the button.

“Wait,” you say between gasps when Eren pins you down to the bed, his mouth zealously tasting the skin of your neck. “What—what about your interview?”

“Unlike me,” he answers, standing on his knees to unzip his jeans, lust-filled eyes staring down at you. “They can wait.”

Eren’s voice is so deep and rough, unfamiliar and dirty in your ears. When he leans in to whisper the question he’s been yearning to ask for years, you can feel shivers running down your spine.

“Can I have you?”

He’s most likely referring to sex but the way he asks it—the way he chooses his words—makes you feel like he’s saying something much more intimate. Like he’s asking for your heart, for your time, for your love, and everything else instead of your body.

“Yeah, just—” You swallow hard, can’t seem to be able to stop touching him. “Just take me, Eren. I’m all yours.”

And that will be the first and last time he’s going to ask for your permission. From now on, it’s settled. You’re his, and he is yours. Even if it’s just physical, you belong to each other.

Before long, your clothes are discarded on the floor, the silky fabric of your panties probably a little torn from how rough he tried to tear it away from your body. You’re bare and exposed, tiny hairs on your skin standing up. You want to blame it on the air conditioner that’s blasting in your room but you know that it doesn’t hold as much effect on you as the way his eyes are running up and down your body.

“You’re beautiful,” he says, heavy with need. It’s like he’s undressing you once again, exposing yourself for the first time and you can’t stop your hands from going to your face.

“I’m—I’m not—” you stammer, line unfinished the second he pries your fingers away. He’s not giving you a chance to react when he suddenly pushes you up the bed, your hair brushing against the headboard.

Bringing your hand above your head, Eren speaks his words like he’s taking a vow. “You are,” his attention is focused on you unwaveringly. “You’re so fucking beautiful, you’re driving me insane.”

As his lips glide further down your body, he can feel your pulse rampantly beating beneath him. His mouth is on your breast, tongue swirling around your nipple before he takes a little nip and soothes the pain with a gentle suck.

You’re a moaning mess, fingers slipping between his strands, tugging at his roots. “Eren—” you choke out, flinching in pleasure when he slides a hand underneath your thigh, raising your leg until you have no choice but to wrap it around his body. He presses his hips down, his clothed hardness grazing against your heat as he moans lowly against your mouth.

If you could just take a peek of what’s going on inside his head, you’d know just how much he’s been wanting this to happen, and yet, now that he has you where he wanted you to be, he feels afraid. Afraid that you might just want him for your pleasure and nothing more. Afraid that once you get a taste of him, you’ll realize that he’s nothing special. That he’s just a man who wants you, who loves you this much, but is never brave enough to act on his feelings.

That he’s a coward and nothing more.

“I need it,” you beg, lifting your hips, desperate for friction. “Eren, please, I want you.”

Eren doesn’t really have enough self-control to begin with but what you’re doing to him right now is just pushing him past his limits. And thousands of voices in his head are screaming for him to seize the opportunity.

So what if she only wants you for sex? They say. She’s giving you her attention. That’s as far as you are worthy to accept.

And with another moan of his name escaping your lips, Eren decides to give up and give in.

“Fuck, I can’t wait—” He reaches one hand to the back pocket of his jeans, grabbing his wallet and snatching a condom out of it. There’s a part of you that’s curious enough to ask why he carries it in his wallet but knowing how he behaves around Historia, even if it was just an act, you’re sure that he must have been going places.

Unlike you. You’ve never done this before. Ever.

“Eren, umm—” You’re not sure what you want to say—maybe something about him to be gentle about it, but you can’t seem to form the words when you see him tucking the package between his teeth, tearing it open. He pushes his jeans and his boxer down just enough to let his cock spring to life, stroking it with one hand before he puts on the rubber so effortlessly as if it’s something he can do with his eyes closed.

You swallow thickly. The previous excitement and adrenaline that were pumping through your veins gradually turn to fear. “Eren…”

He’s spreading you wide open, hands on your knees before he moves one to hold himself and align his cock to your entrance. “I’m putting it in,” he tells you but before you can let the thought sink in, he’s pushing inside.

“Fuck, wait—” You’re clutching tightly to his shoulders, both for support and a weak attempt to push him away, “Eren—”

It hurts. It hurts so badly, tears are forming in your eyes. It’s the kind of pain that you’ve never experienced before, and one that you don’t want to repeat ever again until you die. It feels like he’s tearing you apart little by little, excruciatingly so. You cry out his name again, but Eren is drowning too deep in pleasure to notice.

“God, you’re so tight,” he hisses, thick eyebrows furrowing as he drives himself to the hilt, only stopping once he’s fully inside. Breathing heavily, Eren drags his eyes back to your face and once he witnesses the tears that are threatening to fall, he panics. “Oh shit, did I hurt you?” His hand frames your cheek, eyes running back and forth frantically to check on your face, analyzing your expression. “Are you okay? I’m sorry—I’m so sorry, I—”

“It’s okay,” you tell him, assuring him with a timid smile as you try your best to relax. “I just… Just give me a minute.”

The guilt does not falter away from his face but he nods. “Of course, yeah. As long as you need.” Eren leans in to tenderly kiss your temple as a form of apology before he goes back to search your face. He can finally breathe properly once he sees you relaxing a little bit. “I’m such an idiot,” he murmurs, his thumb rubbing comforting circles along your cheekbone as he holds you in his hand. “I’m sorry… I got too excited.”

You chuckle, gently raking your nails down his back. “It’s okay.” You speak in whispers. “It’s just… I was surprised.”

He gathers you in his arms, embracing you tightly while being careful not to crush you with his weight. His lips brush against your ear as he breathily confesses, “You don’t know how much you’re driving me crazy. I can hardly think when I’m with you.”

The butterflies in your stomach come alive, more from his tone than his words. It’s so soft and genuine, the way he speaks, like an adoring father to his sleeping child. You can tell that he’s still panicking inside, so worried that he might have hurt you badly. Stroking his cheek, you guide him back to your lips. “Kiss me again.”

And he does, doing it so gently as if you’re going to break if he adds even the slightest pressure on it.

“Eren,” you reprimand him once he breaks away. “Kiss me like before.”

“Like what?”

“Like you want to tear me apart.”

He noticeably gulps, eyes hazy with lust from the effect of your words and he does just that, kissing you like he wants to make you his and his only. He tastes like mint and toothpaste, and yours probably the same, but once this ends, he’s just going to taste like you.

At your signal, Eren’s hips begin to move, the fabric of his jeans grazing your thigh as he starts with shallow thrusts, checking on your expression every two seconds. “Does it feel good?” He questions, nervous and uncertain despite his experience.

“It feels great,” you respond between smiles. The pain is still there, but it gradually lessens. “You?”

“Honestly?” He buries himself deeper, causing you to muffle your moan against the skin of his shoulder as you wrap your legs tighter around his hips. Eren’s hot breath fans the skin below your earlobe as he speaks, “Feels like I’m in heaven.”

His words and his soft, deep moans are a dangerous combination, and you find yourself curling your toes, squeezing tighter around him until he shudders. “Goddamn,” his moan only becomes breathier as he tugs the shell of your ear between his teeth. “Baby, you feel so good.”

Baby. You almost shudder at the little pet name that came so naturally from his mouth. Funny how he’s called you that plenty of times before but not once did he ever elicit such a reaction out of you. He sounds so sexy when he says it, so obscene—like how a boyfriend calls his lover in bed. And it makes you feel special, makes you feel like you’re the only one, like you’re the only girl that he wants who can satisfy him this way.

“Hey,” Eren’s gentle call brings your attention back to him. He cups your cheek, glassy eyes staring deep into yours. “Keep your eyes on me.”

Your breathing tatters. “W-why?”

Because you don’t know how long I’ve been waiting to have you in my arms like this, Eren silently answers, because you don’t know just how much I’ve been aching to have you. To see your face. To kiss you. He presses a chaste kiss to your lips. To taste you. You can feel his tongue sliding against your lower lip, begging for entrance and once you grant him, he sighs in content, moaning audibly into your mouth. To be with you like this.

“Can I…” He lets his words caress your cheek, the tip of his nose brushing against the supple skin. “Can I try something?”

“Y-yeah—” Eren switches position and the new angle hits you a little deeper, his pelvis grazing against your clit. “Oh—”

You don’t know how much I’ve been wanting to hear you make that sound, Eren thinks as he leans back to sits on his heels. He brings one of your legs in the air, resting it on his shoulder. His fingers are kneading the skin of your thigh, hugging your leg close to his chest as he rocks his hips slowly, savoring every moment. You feel so good, better than any dream—better than any girl I’ve done this with.

You nibble at your lip, reeling in the sensation. From where you lay on the bed, you can take a good look at Eren’s jade green eyes—the way they droop slightly, clouded with both affection and infatuation every time they meet yours. How the muscles in his abdomens are flexing with every movement. The sinful, obscene sway of his hips. “Eren, that feels so good…”

“Fuck, I love the way you say my name.” I want more. I want to hear it more. Please say my name again, he pleads in his mind, kissing the side of your leg. “I want to make you come,” Eren says, desperate and yearning, “Baby, I need to make you come.”

I want to be the only one who can please you. I want to hear you moan my name again. I want—fuck, I want you—I want all of you—you’re the only one—

“There,” you choke out, arching your back with your eyes shut tightly in pleasure. “You’re hitting—” Another moan escapes your lips, louder, uncontrolled. “—the right spot—”

You’re beautiful. So beautiful like this. Eren holds his position, hips rocking faster as he feels his own orgasm closing in. I want to kiss you. Want to have you moan my name against my mouth—

“Eren,” you sob, fingers twisting against the sheets. “I think I’m close—”

He snaps, moving to hover above you once more as he crushes your mouths together. He’s so deep inside, the movement of his hips becoming erratic. “Come for me,” he begs, “Come for me, baby, please.”

I love you. I love you. I’m so in love with you. If only I could tell you this.

If only I could be brave enough to tell you this.

You crash over with the cry of his name, muffled by the skin of his shoulder. Hearing and feeling you come apart around him has his hips stuttering and his voice caught. It only takes a few more thrusts before he follows, body shaking as he embraces you, nose buried in the crook of your neck. He’s panting out your name but you’re faintly aware of your surrounding, buried too deeply in your own bliss.

Eren leans back to draw wet kisses on your throat as you try to catch your breath, body relaxing against the sheets. When he sees you slowly opening your eyes, he smiles, emitting the softest of giggles. “Hey.”

“Hi,” you reply, tired and satisfied.

He swats the bangs out of your eyes, gentle fingertips sliding against sweaty skin. “You okay?”

“Yeah, just…” Now that your adrenaline is slowly dissipating from your body, you can’t handle the embarrassment that follows. “Just feeling a bit fucked out, that’s all.”

“Figures,” he chuckles, kissing your nose. “I’d love to let you rest, but don’t you have to go to work?”

Work?

You immediately sit up, bumping your forehead against his chin in the process, eyes widening in horror.

“Fuck.”

***

“Your story isn’t going to write on its own, you know.”

Pieck Finger’s melodious voice snaps you out of your daydream and you blink twice to see that, yes, you’ve been working on an article and only managed to write not more than three hundred words in the past—you take a glimpse at your watch—forty-eight minutes. You exhale wearily, rubbing a hand over your face. “I can’t concentrate.”

Sinking into her swivel chair, Pieck drags herself closer until she has her head peeking into your cubicle. “What’s wrong? Guy problem?”

“No,” you automatically respond, but once the words sink in, you say, “I mean, yes. But not like, relationship problems. You know what, at this point, I don’t even know.”

She closes her MacBook, tossing her raven strands off her shoulder before she slides into your spot, bringing her full attention to you with her coffee in her hands. “Spill, babe.”

You’re doing the same with your laptop, knowing that you won’t be getting any work done. Besides, the lunch break is in eight minutes so it won’t hurt to talk. “Okay,” you pause, unsure where to start. “So I just had sex.”

“Best sex of your life?”

“First sex of my life.”

“Wow, sounds serious,” Pieck’s mouth turns upside-down, nodding her head. “Good for you, sister. Who’s the lucky guy? I didn’t know you were dating someone.”

“He’s, umm,” you loosen up your collar, awkward and kind of worried of being judged. But Pieck has always been your ally from day one you’ve stepped into the company. And knowing her relationship with Porco Galliard, another co-worker of yours, she’s actually the best person out there you can talk to about this. “He’s just a friend.”

As expected, she doesn’t even bat an eyelash at the term, even when you still feel guilty about it. “Which friend?” She queries, thick eyebrows adjoined in the middle as if she’s in the middle of serious interrogation. “The dorky one who keeps making googly eyes at you?”

“You mean, Moblit? Oh no, we’re not even that close. He’s not from work.”

“Not from work? Who, then?”

A bit flustered, your drag your eyes away only to have them accidentally land on a stack of magazines that have been sitting on your desk for references purposes. One of them is The Rolling Stone’s last February issue when Empire became their cover artist for the month. With rosy cheeks, you rummage through the stack. Once you’ve attained the magazine in your hand, you slide it down the table for Pieck to see.

“What?” She asks, frowning.

“The one standing in the middle.”

She grabs the magazine, eyes moving back and forth as she reads the text, and stops when they land on a certain man. She squints her eyes at you. “What is this, a joke?”

You shake your head.

“You’re dating—”

“We’re not dating,” you quickly correct her, “We just had sex.”

“You just had sex with Eren Jaeger, the lead vocal of Empire?”

“Y-yeah.” You fidget in your seat, anxiously playing with your fingers. “But to me, he’s just a friend.”

“Just a fri—” she catches herself, knowing that she’s been quite loud about it. She has garnered quite an attention from co-workers that are walking past your cubicle. Pieck rolls the magazine in one hand and slams it harshly against your shoulder, only repeating it once more when you yelp. “Why didn’t you tell me you were friends with a celebrity?!”

You try to dodge her next attempt. “I didn’t know you were a fan!”

“I’m not a fan of him, but I might be a fan of his cute friends.”

“Can we go back to my problem first, please?”

“Fine.” She huffs, tossing the magazine away to the table. “Okay, so what happened?”

You’re not sure how to begin but you tell her about how you started to feel a certain way about him once you saw him kissing and flirting with Historia—which Pieck responds bitterly with, “If you say you’re friends now with Historia Reiss, I’m actually going to fucking kill you,” and when you wince as an attempt to display a grin, she hits you four times in a row with the same magazine, right on your head this time. Thankfully enough, she becomes more supportive at lending you her ears once you tell her about what happened with Eren in the car and your apartment.

“And now I’m not sure what to tell him,” you finish your story. “I was going to talk about it but I had to go to work so…”

“And now you’re here.”

“And now I’m here.”

“Fucked by your best friend, both mentally and physically.”

“I—” Your face nearly explodes. “Yeah.”

“Can’t even finish a 2k article before lunch break. Frieda is going to have you strangled, you know that, right?”

You sink your face deeper in your hands. “I know. But I can’t stop thinking about him.”

Pieck taps her pen to her lips, thinking. “Was the sex any good?”

“Oh my God, Pieck.” You hold her hand between yours, squeezing it as your eyes sparkle with joy. “It was the best.”

“You just had sex for the first time, idiot.” She flicks your forehead, merciless as always. “How would you know it was the best?”

“Fair point, but it felt so, so good.” You almost moan just by recalling the memory. “You know how they always said first-time sex could be painful and awful and just, ugh,” you stick out your tongue. “But it wasn’t like that for me at all! I mean, it did hurt. It hurt a lot but after that it was…” With your head thrown back and your hands hanging mid-air, you desperately try to find the perfect words to describe your experience. “I don’t know how else to say this but oh my God.”

“Goodbye.” Pieck is already halfway standing from her seat when you beg her to stay. “Okay, so the sex is great and you want to continue, obviously.” You nod your head too fast and too many, that you’re starting to feel dizzy. “And seems like he wants to do the same too, so what’s the problem?”

“The problem is that he doesn’t wanna be in a relationship.” You exhale heavily, tired and lost. “He said, and I quote, ‘I just think relationships and commitments can be messy and I already have enough mess in my life to take care of.’”

“Sheesh,” Pieck mutters, making a face. “Sounds like he has issues. Not my type. Went through a bad breakup?”

“I don’t think he did. He said he never had a relationship before.”

“But he’s not a virgin.”

“Doesn’t seem like one to me.”

“Well yeah, he’s popular. He goes on tours. Men have needs. Of course, he fucks all the time.” Pieck yawns while you turn pale as mental images of him sleeping with his female staff and groupies flood your head. “Do you want to date him?”

The question makes you freeze. “I think…” You nibble on your lip. “I don’t know, I never thought about being with him in that way.”

“So start thinking now.”

You send her a glare before you sigh in defeat, massaging your temple. “I feel like he’s on a whole another level, you know?” You ponder. “I mean, he works in the entertainment industry. He’s popular, girls will be chasing after him non-stop. He kisses another artist for fanservice—I don’t think I can ever be okay with that, even if it’s just an act.”

“And so you’re worried that you’d get constantly jealous.”

“Yes, exactly!” But admitting that out loud, only makes you ten times more worried about what to do. “I don’t want to act like a possessive girlfriend but I know myself enough that I’ll be doing exactly that once I see him being surrounded by girls. I’m… Even if he stays loyal to me, I know I’d still get jealous all the time and that won’t be fair to him.”

“True. Especially when he’s surrounded by girls as pretty as Historia Reiss.” Pieck retrieves the magazine back to her lap, flipping through the pages. “Oh, look. Mikasa Ackerman.” She taps her pencil to the picture of the beautiful young model carrying a bottle of perfume in her hand. “She’s pretty.”

“She calls because she wants me to fuck her. Satisfied?”

“Oh God,” your voice is muffled by the skin of your palm as Eren’s words ring through your ears. “You know what? Yeah. Dating him would be a terrible idea.”

“Then don’t date him.”

She’s not helping you at all, is she? “But…” You pout. “I don’t want to stop doing… well, you know.”

“Then just do what I do with Porco,” Pieck says, and not two seconds later, Porco Galliard, dressed handsomely in a white buttoned-up shirt with his golden hair slicked back as always, pops out behind her.

“Talking about me?” He asks, landing a hand on her shoulder. “Hey, Pieck, I’m gonna go grab some lunch. You wanna come?”

Pieck tilts her head up, tossing him a sweet smile. “Can you just buy something for me? I don’t feel like going.”

“What day is it today? Monday? So…” Porco takes a few moments to remember. “Avocado chicken salad?”

“Perfect, you’re the best.” She tugs him down by his tie and presses a light kiss on his cheek. “Thank you, Pokko. I can’t believe you’ve memorized my diet list already. I’m impressed.”

“Pieck, at this point, I even know when your next period is going to start.”

They have completely forgotten that you also exist in the room. With a blank stare, you comment, “You two are just as cute as you are gross. Are you guys sure you’re not dating?”

“No,” they both say so casually and naturally at the same time. At Porco’s permission, Pieck elaborates some more. “We’re just fuck buddies.”

“Well,” Porco tries to correct, “I prefer the term Friends with Benefits but okay.”

“It’s the same kind, Pokko, get used to it.”

“It just sounds more elegant.”

“Honey, all we do is fuck. There’s nothing elegant about that. We’re fuck buddies.”

“Jesus, Fine,” Porco sighs, giving you a flat stare. “We’re fuck buddies. We’re buddies and we fuck. Hence, fuck buddies.”

“Yeah, I get that, thanks.” You mirror his expression. “But why is that?” You ask with knitted eyebrows. “You two seem like you’re perfect for each other.”

“‘Cause I’m in love with Zeke Fritz,” Pieck says. “And he already has a wife so…”

“And I’m not into commitments,” Porco follows. And when you shoot him a glare, silently asking why do men do this? He just shrugs and says, “I’m still young, and I like having sex without having to deal with relationships. ‘Cause, you know, relationships can be me—”

“Messy, yes.” You’re literally having a headache right now. “So, you guys just, what, call each other late at night to have sex?”

“Sometimes in the morning,” Porco says and Pieck nods, completely missing the fact that you’re just being cynical about it. “At night, we’re usually too busy binging new series—”

“How the hell have you guys not fallen for each other yet?” You’re crossing way too far into their personal territories but you don’t care. Their relationship just sounds so absurd to you. “You guys sleep together in like, what, once a week?”

They actually have to take a moment to discuss before Pieck can firmly state, “Once every three days in average. We used to do it three times a day but then we realized we weren’t bunnies.” They share a laugh, giving each other high fives and you’re just sitting there, looking utterly disgusted at their inside jokes.

“Okay, but on a serious note,” Porco states, before he turns to his partner in crime, “We’ve laid out some ground rules, right?

With a nod, Pieck explains further. “We’ve made a deal in the beginning to make sure that this is just going to be about sex and nothing more. To make sure there are no feelings involved. I can give you a list, actually, you want it?”

“I’m not gonna ask you for—“ But you grab the nearest pen and paper, folding your legs and keep your ears ready. “Okay, so, number one?”

***

Ten minutes have passed with you standing in front of your front door with your key card lying between your fingers. Your bottom lip is almost bruised from how often you’ve been chewing at it to help reduce your stress.

Okay, he said he had an interview, you think inwardly. He might not be here. Even if he is, then what’s the problem? Just say hi, be natural. If he wants to talk about it, give him the list. If he doesn’t, then… You’re not sure how to finish the thought. What if he pretends like nothing happened? God, you don’t want him to pretend like nothing happened.

Taking a deep breath, you slide in your key and enter your apartment.

You’re met by the silence. A few lights in the room are on—Eren must have switched them on before he left—but no matter how many times you scan your eyes to your surroundings, there’s nobody else in the room.

Your shoulders sag in disappointment. Placing your handbag on the counter, you take a moment to process. Should I call? Will it make me sound desperate? You’re staring at your phone screen, noticing the clock that it’s a little past 9 pm. Where is he right now?

You shake your head and slap your cheeks with both palms. When was the last time you thought about a boy this much? Never. You seriously need to pull yourself together.

You nearly jump out of your skin when your phone rings, clattering against the marbled surface. Eren’s name is written on your screen, along with a picture of him grinning as he playfully ruffled your hair. Okay, fuck, calm down, you take a deep breath, repeating it twice, and slide your thumb along the screen.

“H-hello?” You curse inwardly. You’ve gone through all those rituals, and you still ended up stuttering one word.

“Where are you right now?”

“I’m—my apartment—“ Jesus Christ, calm down, me! “I just got back from work.”

“Great. Change into something comfortable.”

“Why?”

“‘Cause I’m already waiting for you downstairs and I’m craving for chicken wings.”

You nearly lose grip of your phone. “I—what, like, now?”

“Tomorrow. I’ll just make a tent here and wait for you until then.” You can actually picture him rolling his eyes. “Yes, Genius. Now come on, I’m starving.”

“But—” You swallow thickly. “Okay. Give me ten minutes.”

“I’ll give you five.”

The call ends with a beep.

***

It takes you approximately twenty-seven minutes before you can finally head downstairs to your lobby in your favorite sleek, skinny jeans, your most comfortable black ankle boots, and an off-the-shoulder top with long sleeves that brings out the color of your eyes. You’re way too over-dressed for a quick drive to grab some chicken wings, as he said, but you can’t help it. It feels like you’re going on a date, especially with him waiting downstairs for you instead of barging through your door like he always is. You weren’t even confident enough to go out without taking a shower, so instead of just dousing yourself with cologne like how you usually did to mask the scent of your sweat, you ended up tripping yourself to the bathroom, taking the quickest, yet very thorough shower in the history of mankind—seriously, you might have broken a new record or something—and re-did your make-up and hair all over again. You were aiming for a natural look but decided to apply bright red lipstick in the end, in hopes to get him to notice your lips more than he usually did (but you’re too embarrassed to even admit this to yourself).

“Eren,” you call out once you step outside the building, approaching his spot with hasty steps and palpitating heart. Eren, dressed in a pair of ripped jeans, combat boots, and a black shirt, is leaning against his motorbike—the same all-black Royal Enfield 350 he used to drive in college—with a phone in his hand. At the sound of your voice, he looks up with a scowl, his tongue ready to form harsh words to scold you for making him wait so long but once he sees you, his words vanish instantly.

And now he’s just staring at you with unblinking eyes and parted lips.

“Umm,” you become even more conscious about your appearance, blushing madly as you tuck a few strands of loose hair behind your ear. “S-sorry for making you wait. I was—I reeked of sweat so I had to take a shower.”

“Oh, uhh—” He clears his throat, bringing his eyes back to his phone just so you won’t notice his burning cheeks. “Yeah, it’s fine.”

You walk closer, unconsciously pouting to yourself when he just simply turns around to grab a jacket for you to wear, not taking a few seconds to comment on your look. Well, it’s not a date and he’s not your boyfriend so he’s not obliged to do all of that, true, but you can’t stop yourself from being disappointed.

“Here,” he says, handing you his leather jacket while he takes a denim one for himself. “‘Cause you’re as sensitive to cold as—”

“—A newborn pug,” you finish the line for him, displaying a little smile. “Yeah, I remember.”

He mirrors yours with a boyish grin. “Good. Now hop on.”

Putting on your helmet, you take a seat behind him and without waiting for his order, you circle both arms around his waist, causing his body to stiffen. “What?” You ask, a bit embarrassed by it too. “I’m not gonna argue about this with you again.”

He doesn’t answer, sliding down his visor before he turns on the engine. Faintly, you can hear him murmuring words that you can’t catch. “What did you say?”

“I said you look beautiful!” Eren shouts, and before you can react, he shifts gears and slams on the gas until all you can do is just holding onto him like you’re holding on to your dear life.

And you’re not complaining, not like back then. Not when he feels this warm.

***

“Oh my God, it’s been years,” you mutter in awe as you step inside a diner where you used to spend hours with Eren during your college days. The place’s pretty unique as it preserves its Googie architecture, with an irregular-shaped roof, distinctive neon sign, and retro interior. Their sandwiches are top-notch, but for you and Eren, it’s all about their chicken wings. There’s no need for the two of you to argue which table you should take, knowing that the last one at the back, right beside the window, has always been your favorite spot. But before you can take a seat, a rough, masculine voice echoes through the room.

“Holy shit, Jaeger?”

Eren’s smile is bright and young, just like how he used to smile back in college. “Mr. Hannes!” He leaves your side before you can reach the table, giving a firm handshake to Hannes—a tall, well-built man with short blond hair, a thin dark mustache, and golden hazel eyes. He’s the owner of the diner who spends a lot of his time chit-chatting with his customers—and flirting with the ladies—instead of making sure that his business is going well.

“Damn son, you’re looking fine as hell now,” Hannes says, words thick with his distinctive accent. “I heard you’ve become quite a celeb now too.”

“That’s not true,” Eren says, smiling sheepishly to himself. His body language is so humble, a stark contrast to how he appears on stage, drenched with confidence and unmatched charisma. They’re engaged naturally in a conversation, chatting about the old days and you wait with a tiny smile on your face until Hannes drags his eyes toward you. “Is she your girl? Can’t believe you’re already bringing pretty chicks to my diner,” Hannes lands a punch on Eren’s shoulder. “You used to hang out with that girl all the time—what was her name again? The one who always carried beers inside her hoodie.”

“That was me,” you raise a hand, awkwardly grinning as you blush. “Hi, Mr. Hannes, it’s been a while.”

The old man’s jaw hangs slack on his face. “You’re—” He’s even more bewildered looking at you compared to when he first spotted Eren Jaeger, the popular new artist, entering his diner. “Shit, you two are turning into good-looking kids and I’m here getting fatter and fatter each day.”

You both laugh, and you lean over the table to give Hannes a hug. It’s not hard to miss him. He’s always been like a fun uncle that you always love to hang out with during family gatherings. “Can we have some chicken wings?” Eren asks, which you quickly add with, “Oh, I’ll just have a tuna melt sandwich.”

Eren gives you a look, staring blankly at you. “You’re gonna betray me like this?”

“I only agreed to go out with you.” You roll your eyes. “Not about eating chicken wings.”

“I drove for almost an hour to get here and you’re ordering a freaking sandwich?”

“It’s a tuna melt sandwich, mind you,” you retort as if it makes a huge difference. “Also, I’m on a diet.

“You just ordered a strawberry milkshake!” Eren protests, groaning. “This is going to be included in my Top Ten Betrayal Moments when I decide to open up my own YouTube channel. You’ll see.”

“You guys are too cute,” Hannes says, giggling in a way a forty years old man shouldn’t have giggled. “Don’t forget to invite me to your future wedding.”

Face aflame, you both shout, “WE’RE NOT DATING!”

Two huge plates filled with chicken wings slathered by barbecue sauce are delivered to your table before you can take a second sip of your drink. “I’m gonna go wash my hands,” Eren says, pulling back his chair to stand back on his feet. “They always taste better when you eat them with bare hands.”

Once he leaves, you realize just how much your heart has been pounding when he’s around. No matter how you look at it, this really feels like a date. Well, of course, the conversations could’ve been more romantic—you doubt any couple would talk about how to survive a zombie apocalypse during their first date—but then again, this is supposed to be just two best friends hanging out, isn’t it? So why can’t you keep calm about it?

Why can’t you stop taking glances at his face, silently admiring the shape of his nose or his pretty eyelashes?

Why can’t you stop thinking about the way his hand was lying on the table, so near to yours yet felt not close enough?

And why can’t you stop thinking about kissing those pretty, plump lips?

“You won’t believe this,” Eren says as he sinks back into his chair. “But they just renovated the bathroom and it looks pretty sick.”

“Ah… Yeah.” This is definitely not a date. Eren doesn’t act like it. Maybe you’re just overthinking everything?

What if, for him, it’s a one-time thing? He had sex with you once, his curiosity has been answered, and it probably wasn’t a very good experience for someone who’s been going around like him. So, what then? What if that’s it? Here you are, sitting with your eyes staring blankly at your sandwich, thinking about kissing him and he’s there, munching on his chicken wings like he’s been starved for years, not even paying a glance at you.

“What?” Eren asks, once he finally notices you’ve been staring at him. “Something on my face?”

“No,” you automatically answer before you realize that, yes, he does have something on his face. “Well, you’ve got some ketchup on your cheek.”

He swallows a big chunk of his chicken wings. “Can you get it for me? My hands are dipped in barbecue sauce if you haven’t noticed.”

You pause, uncertain if you should do it with all these dirty thoughts running in your head. Eventually, you heave a sigh and reach out a hand. Eren leans closer, meeting you halfway, and you brush your thumb over the speck that taints his cheek.

“Thanks—” He’s distracted with the way your fingers linger on his skin, hovering a little too close to the corner of his mouth, and once he sees your eyes droop, gaze fixated on the shape of his mouth, he gulps.

Eren has ketchup smeared on his lips and yet, there you are, rising from your seat, leaning halfway across the table, and pressing your lips against his. You’re so swept by your emotions, your body moving instinctively without thinking. Fortunately enough, your brain manages to tell you to keep it quick and you break away from him after only three seconds have passed.

“What are you doing?” Eren asks, eyes moving back and forth from your glassy ones to your lips.

“I just…” Your breathing tatters. “I just felt like kissing you.”

Eren’s cheeks are almost the same color as the tomato ketchup that stained his cheek earlier and before you can say anything more, he raises one hand. “Waiter!” Turning around on his seat to talk to a waitress, he asks a favor in a hurry, “Can you get me the bill? Also, can you wrap this up to go, please?”

“But—” You interrupt. “I haven’t even touched my sandwich—”

“Yeah, hers too,” he says and the waitress nods, taking away your plate before you can protest.

“Wait, Eren—“

“We can eat later.”

“Why?”

“Because,” Eren firmly states, eyes catching yours. “All I can think about right now is bending you over the table and fuck you until you scream my name.”

Your fork clatters against the floor as it slipped away from between your fingers. “Oh…” You’re having a heart attack, you’re almost a hundred percent sure you are, because how else can you explain this pressure, squeezing, fullness in your chest?

You raise a hand. “Waiter! I’d also like to have my milkshake to go!”

***

Eren kicks the door close with one foot as he pushes you deeper into the motel room that heavily smells like dust with an aftertaste of cigarettes filling the air. “You’re—” Eren cut your sentence short with his lips, unable to stop kissing you even when you are both breathless. “You’re being much more aggressive,” you comment, lifting your hands in the air as Eren yanks your top over your head. The second it’s off, his mouth is chasing after yours again, his fingers working on your bra. “Did my kiss turn you on that much?”

“Well,” he breathes out, hand sliding down to caress the curve of your ass before he goes to your front, unbuttoning your jeans. “I’ve been thinking about doing this to you again ever since we had sex this morning, so—” he groans lowly when you grind your teeth along the sensitive skin of his neck. “And when I saw you looking all dressed up tonight—so fucking pretty for me—“ He slips his hand between your strands, gently tugging your head back so he can slot your mouths together. “You’re so goddamn beautiful, I can’t help but want to have you for myself.”

Truth is, he never stops wanting you but he wasn’t sure if it was okay for him to make a move after your first intercourse. He was worried that maybe you weren’t satisfied with him, worried that he might have hurt you in some way and you wanted him to stop. That was the reason why he tried to keep everything casual, didn’t even bring up the topic back at the restaurant.

So when you kissed him again, you were giving him the green light to fulfill his desire.

And he decides he’s not going to stop anymore.

“That makes both of us then,” you utter, bringing him down to you again by landing a hand on his nape. “So go on and fuck me ‘cause I can’t wait.”

He growls, hauling you up by the waist and tosses you down to the bed. Your body is pressed against the sheets, legs still dangling over the edge as you wait with your heart thrumming loud at the sight of Eren yanking his shirt over his head.

“Like what you see?” He teases, noticing the way you’re raking your eyes over every muscle he has in his body as he takes off your boots.

“Yeah.” You can’t even lie, not with the sight of his jeans hanging low on his hips, showcasing two prominent v-lines and packs of abs that ripple with every little move he makes. “How often do you work out?”

“You’re really asking me that now?” He snorts, hovering above you once he’s taken your jeans off your legs. “Don’t you have something better to do?” You can feel his lips curving upwards as he slants them on yours. “Or rather, someone?”

You want to complain about how it’s not fucking fair that he looks this goddamn sexy while you’re… well, just you. Average. Nothing special. Nothing if being compared to him.

But that’s where you’re wrong. Because right now, despite his nonchalant attitude, Eren is a thousand times crazier about you than you’re about him. He’s losing his mind, wanting nothing but to be tangled in your arms, mixing his scent with yours, mixing his everything with yours.

“Fucking hell,” he curses under his breath. “I don’t think I’ve ever felt this turned on in my life.”

You grind your hips against him again, loving his reaction though you are just as intoxicated as he is. The little grunts he makes are low and guttural, running straight from your ear down to where you’re aching to be touched. “Yeah, you’re so hard down there.” You giggle. Somehow, as this isn’t the first time you’ve been in this position with him, it’s not as unbearably embarrassing as it was before. “Guess we gotta do something about that.”

“You think?” He asks with a smirk. “I’m not sure what you have in mind.”

“Ah, so you’re a little shit in bed,” you playfully scold him, running your hand down his abs until you can reach him underneath his boxer. He twitches in your hand, another curse tumbling down his mouth. “I think I can be into that,” you tease as you curl your fingers around him, stroking him in a way that you know will leave him unsatisfied.

There’s no room for foreplay, you decide. Not now when you’re both so desperate for each other’s touch that you couldn’t handle an hour drive back to your apartment, settling for a cheap motel room—one that was closest to the restaurant you were in. And you don’t care. It doesn’t matter. You just want him now. You need him now.

And Eren’s more than happy to oblige.

***

“Oh my God…” You’ve been staring at the ceiling of a motel room for a whole minute, dazed eyes blinking slowly as you try to catch your breath. You can still feel trembles creeping along your thighs, unable to even lift a muscle as you lie on the bed, still dressed in nothing but your birthday suit.

Eren titters, tossing his used condom to the nearest trashcan before he slips back underneath the duvet. He crawls up your body, placing idle kisses on your navel, the valley between your breasts and further upward until he stops on your lips. “Hey,” he coos. “Did I make you feel good?”

You can only respond with “You think?” Which he returns with that deep, signature chuckle of his.

He lays his body down on yours, sighing as he presses his ear against your heart. “Your heart’s still pounding.”

“Yeah.” You slip your fingers between his strands, carding through his long silky hair. “Someone nearly split me in half five minutes ago, so…”

“I didn’t know you were that flexible.” He nuzzles his nose against your skin. “Guess being friends for more than a decade doesn’t mean you know everything about a person.”

“You were supposed to never know about that.” You giggle when his hair brushes against your chest. “Eren, it tickles.” So he replaces it with his mouth, warm tongue circling your nipple until you sigh, cradling his head in your arms.

It’s both frightening and exciting how fast you’re progressing. Last night, Eren’s fingers were buried deep inside you. This morning, you lost your virginity to him. And just around six minutes ago, he just gave you your second orgasm and it was ten times more intense than before—which you thought wouldn’t be possible.

“Eren.”

“Hmm?”

“We can’t keep getting swept by the moment like this,” you mention as you grab him by the chin to stop him from marking yet another bruise on your skin. You quickly elaborate more before he misunderstands your intention. “I mean, this is nice. Really nice. But we gotta lay down some, uhh, some ground rules.”

Eren breaks away, propping his elbows on each side of your body. “What do you mean?”

“I have an offer,” you answer, “Excuse me for a sec.” Pushing him away slightly, you reach out to grab your purse that’s been sitting on the nightstand, snatching a piece of paper with a handwritten note that you did with Pieck earlier today. “Okay, so I’ve got some rules we can use.”

Eren, as easy as taking a lollipop from a baby, steals the paper away from you. He scans through your handwriting, eyes moving back and forth rapidly before he sends you a look, judging and condescending. “Seriously? Rules on ‘How to Become Perfect Fuck Buddies?’”

You fidget, sinking into the covers. “I kept telling Pieck to not use a title but—”

“That’s not the point, you idiot.” He sighs, growing impatient. “You want us to be fuck buddies now?”

You raise an eyebrow. “Do—do you want us to stop doing this?”

“Well, no, but—” And as you wait for him to explain, his cheeks redden. “You know what, yeah. Okay. Being fuck buddies sounds great.” He goes through the notes again. “Sorry, but I can’t help thinking. Do you just carry this around with you? How many times have you done this before?”

“Wha—” You nearly choke, face burning bright. “Of course not! I brought that ‘cause I wanted to talk about it with you today and—and—” You panic. “I’ve never done this before, Eren—You’re my first!”

“Your first fuck buddy?” He snorts. “What a privilege.”

“No, you’re my first…” You can’t finish as your words die on your tongue. You look away, turning around to face the wall instead of facing the curiosity burning in his eyes. “Never mind.”

“Your first what?” He urges, crawling closer so he can shake you by the shoulder. “I’m your first what? Hey—”

“Oh my God,” you blurt out. “You’re my first, Eren. Don’t you get that?!”

“I’m—” Once the realization hits him like the storm, his jaw instantly hangs slack on his face. “I’m your—” He sits back down on the bed, eyes wide open. “Oh my God,” he says as if he was a moment away from bursting into bubbles. “Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck—”

“Eren?” You raise both hands in the air. “Eren, it’s just sex. No need to panic—it’s not like I’m asking you to take responsibility or anything—”

“It’s just sex?!” His voice turns thunderous and you flinch in surprise. “It’s just—it’s not just sex—that was your first time! Fuck, no wonder you cried when I—God, you should’ve told me!”

“Yeah, right,” you scoff, trying your best to appear nonchalant. “You expect me to do what? Tell my best friend to be gentle with me because I’m gonna give my virginity to him?”

“YES!”

You blankly stare. “Eren, I was just being sarcastic.”

“Well, I’m not!” He lands both hands on your shoulders, squeezing them tightly as if that can make his point sinks faster in your head. “Look, you really should’ve told me. Your first time should’ve been special, should’ve been with someone that you—“ He sighs, giving up mid-sentence.

“Someone that I—what?” You urge him. “Tell me.”

“Someone that’s not me,” he finishes, much quieter than before. “I’m sorry. I wouldn’t have done it if I had known it was your first time.”

You could see his regret and guilt written clearly on his face. It’s endearing, the fact that he cares about you a lot—cares more about your first time more than you do—but this has got to stop. Why does he have to feel guilty about it when you feel like giving him your virginity was one of the best choices you’ve ever made in your life?

“Eren.” You gather his face into your hands, cupping both of his cheeks, knowing that if you don’t, he’ll try his best to avoid your gaze. “I’m so, so glad, that you’re my first. You are kind, you are caring, you know me better than anyone else and—no, look at me—“ you warn him when he tries to break away from your hold, crimson painting his cheeks. “And you were gentle. You weren’t aware that it was my first time but I could tell how much you were holding yourself back. If I could turn back time and choose my partner, I would choose you again in a heartbeat.”

He’s blushing. He’s blushing so hard from head to toe and now you’re blushing. “Umm…” he starts awkwardly. “Okay.”

“Okay.” You pat his cheeks, feeling like your face is about to explode. “So, uh, can we do something else now? It’s getting too sappy and I feel like I’m about to throw up.”

“Right, yeah,” he looks around, awkward hands trying to retrieve your notes. “Well, we still have this to talk about, I guess.”

“Oh yeah, about that.” Thank God, you think inwardly. Not once did you ever think in your life that a note you made about being perfect fuck buddies would save you from this situation. “So, as you can see here. Rule number one, we have to—” Your lips parted in shock at the sight of Eren tearing the paper apart without warning. “Hey! What are you doing—”

“You didn’t make these rules, did you?” He guesses, curling the torn papers into a ball before he tosses it over his shoulder.

“Well, no, but—” With a gasp, you land back on the bed with his hand pushing you down by the shoulder, your head sinking deep into the pillow. Eren hovers above you, hooded eyes glinting dangerously in the dimness of the room. “E-Eren?”

“I say we make our own rules,” he offers, smirking. “That will work better for us, don’t you think?

“But—” You’re distracted with the way his tongue peeks out to wet his lips. “How do we come up with the rules? Have you done this before with anyone else?”

“No,” he says, breath fanning your neck. “I guess we’ll have to figure that out as we go.”

And as he slips one hand between your legs, fingertips rubbing against your folds, you might have to start inventing rule number one, which is, “T-thirty minutes break before round two?” You offer, but you can’t help but arch your back in pleasure when he grinds his hips against yours, his throbbing member noticeably pressing against your thigh.

You can feel his smirk growing larger on your lips. “Rejected.”

***

Next Chapter

Thank you so much @justasketch for reading this twice for me lol I tried to fix the timeline like you told me to but this was as far as I could do I'm sorry 😭😭😭

Tagging: @tasteless @l6ffys @vivi-et @halparkebitch @fwess @littlemochi @thebeardedmoon @luvtaromilktea @didiyogo @xximthefoolxx-blog thanks so much for reading, lovelies! ❤️❤️❤️

[hexonthepeach]

dark & stormy 6&7: aftermath & epilogue

summary: you’re a housekeeper in a seedy hotel working through the worst hurricane of the season when you’re invited to spend the evening with your two sexy but enigmatic co-workers. when you accidentally uncover their secret identities you're dragged into a darker world—one you may already know too well

pairing: jaehyun (nct) x johnny (nct) x fem!reader (code name: jenny)

genre: the late-70s/early-80s miami vice/nice guys/secret agent johnjae/reader au no one asked for or: a work of madness inspired by the infamous w korea shoot

word count: 9.7k of 63k

warnings: explicit sexual content (m/f, m/m, mmf threesome) [see chapters for detailed tags], dark themes, implied murder, drug-use (alcohol, quaaludes), drugging w/o consent, stalking, kidnapping (non-sexual), bondage, minor knifeplay/gunplay, slight age gap [y/n early 20s, jj late 20s/early 30s], y/n implied dark origins/criminal history (OC vibes but history left open for interpretation), sleep paralysis/nightmares, walk-on guest appearances from other nct members inc. sungtaro in later chapters

fic masterlist

part 1: landfall | part 2: disturbance formation | part 3: eye of the storm | part 4: dissipation | part 5: blue skies | [current and end]

read on AO3

chapter warnings: nothing you haven't seen before but! explicit sex, discussion of kink, heavy sir kink, service top!johnny, double penetration [f receiving], anal penetration [f receiving], blindfolds, edging, coming inside (established earlier y/n is on birth control)

recommended listening: Roberta Flack's 1973 album Killing Me Softly

"Rise and shine," Johnny says, voice filtering though layers of sleep as Jaehyun re-enters the world.

Jaehyun’s left hand dips heavy with the loaded Browning, swaying as he aims it for the wall instead of the man obscuring his bedroom doorway.

"You know if I wanted you dead you would have been gone five minutes ago."

“Go away," Jaehyun mutters. His mouth is sour with sleep and day-old bourbon as he turns to set the gun on the nightstand rather than tucking it back under the unused pillow on his bed. The clock reads a quarter past ten. It’s not late but later than he expected, having crawled into the sheets at dawn that day.

"How'd you get in?" Jaehyun asks when he finally accepts that Johnny isn't leaving.

"You gave me a key, dumbass. What are you doing out of the hospital?"

"Then lock up on your way out,” he answers, collapsing back into the pillows. The minor gesture has him wincing at the throb from his Frankensteined shoulder. In a better world he'd be operative by now, but he’d learned all too well a side effect of untreated open wounds was blood poisoning.

“Brought you a gift," Johnny says, shaking an orange plastic container. He eyes the whiskey bottle on the nightstand. "Probably not a good idea to mix."

"I already told Zhong I'm not taking that shit," Jaehyun grumbles.

"Different kind of pain, huh?" Johnny tosses something on the bed. “Brought something for that too.”

"Shouldn't have." Jaehyun kicks the bundle off his legs–flowers from the shape and the rustle of plastic.

"They're not from me."

He can’t remember waking up but he can read between the lines of his partner’s words. It's as effective as an ice bath, making him sit up again.

"Figured you'd need a few extra hands since yours is out of commission," Johnny’s silhouette nods towards the cloth arm brace he's wearing, a requirement for leaving observation. It's annoying but a useful reminder to not to put weight on the healing muscle.

“Who's here?” Jaehyun asks, guarded.

“Who do you think? Get up and eat.”

The smell hits him, warm and fragrant. He feels like one of those cartoons following the smell of a pie on a windowsill as he shuffles out of bed, the cool air a shock with the way his sweats are plastered to his skin.

"God you need a shower," Johnny jokes, helping him when he finds it difficult to stand. Jaehyun shoves his good elbow into his ribs half-heartedly.

This close he can read so much more from his partner: the restaurant smell of fried food and beer, but also the faint trace of lipstick on his collar and the brightness in his eyes.

Johnny is always performing some kind of act when he's feeling anxious but this is different. Seven years of shared service had given Jaehyun a view behind the curtain enough times to know he’s troubled.

“Why did you bring her here?” he asks.

“She asked me to,” Johnny says with a trace of dishonesty, letting his arm go.

It's been unseasonably cold in April, and the rain is a sheet over the windowed attic roof overhead. Everything else under it would seem to be in the right place, if not for the figure in his kitchen, straining to reach the dark-glazed bowls he’s sure have gathered dust since he’s last used them.

You're still wearing a thick, wool coat and he’s reminded how dismally cold it is in his apartment, with its exposed brick interior and practically non-existent glass walls and ceiling. At the best of times he has a view of the stars beyond the city lights, but now the space feels so much smaller.

“Hey, Y/N.”

You turn around, just slow and deliberate enough that he knows you’ve been hanging on every word of exchange behind you. It's hard to have privacy in a loft. Jaehyun hadn’t bought it expecting company.

Seeing the pitiful look on your face has him ready for flight. Not just pitiful because of the obvious discomfort but in how you’re looking at him right now, like you’re afraid he’s going to break if you speak.

"Hey," you say, forgetting the dishes. "Are you alright?"

He wants to go back into his room but Johnny is right behind him and there really isn't an exit besides his front door or the rickety old fire escape.

"Yeah." Jaehyun says. He forgets not to lift his right hand to his head until the pain of movement has him reeling.

In the few moments between accepting he might pass out a second time in front of you and still finding himself upright you wrap your arms around his middle. Moisture seeps into the cotton of his shirt as you pretend not to cry in the same stubborn manner he’s seen before.

"It's really not that bad." Jaehyun pats your back awkwardly with his left hand, angling away his brace. It hurts but not nearly enough to break contact, not with you holding him like your life depends on it.

"I missed you," you say into his breastbone. The tone of your voice is heavy enough he knows you're not talking about the last week.

"I missed you, too," he admits, resting his cheek on the top of your head. It's like you'd never been separated since that last conversation in Verona, the joy of having you back in his life just as fragile.

Still, this is what he really needed, he thinks. He recognizes the lemony, powdery scent of Love's Baby Soft under whatever expensive products you're wearing these days. It's comforting to know that beneath that newly polished exterior the girl who'd hid from him in an empty room whenever he was in the same hallway would always be there, just under the surface.

He's never told you what it was like to wait. He'd only been able to show you, in that weird way that had you as still and braced for flight more times than he could count. You were always the predator waiting in the grass in his mind: too smart for your own good, too patient to land the killing blow when that's all he really wanted.

Johnny had figured out the same thing, months ago, sitting in a police holding cell in the Reykjavik airport, of all places.

"She knows," he says, still laughing at the fact that they'd been picked up after an emergency triage of their Swedish language skills hadn't saved them from a cursory interrogation and a call to the American embassy. "Flagged us and disappeared in the time it took us to get to the terminal."

Jaehyun says nothing, picking at the gold braid on the pilot's uniform they'd lifted before trying their hand at the last flight out.

"You sure do know how to pick them, brother."

"She'd be at Quantico right now if it wasn't for you," Jaehyun answers.

"A waste." He can hear how it picks at the man's pride to be questioned about that decision.

He’d seen it play out over months in dive bars near Control, where they’d gone back to their pre-operation roles: Jaehyun patiently listening and defusing the conversation whenever it circled back, inevitably, to the newest recruit, Johnny threatening to break into the company Rolodex after too many Old Fashioneds.

Somehow in the time since she'd been given basic clearance to NeoTech every secretary and assistant on every floor had become immune to his charms, like the Ghost of Exes Past had walked through and warned them of where that road would lead to.

Even steadfast Moon Taeil hadn’t broken, smiling like a saint when asked for information about her that breached past clerical. "Got it bad, Suh? Why don't you just try asking her out?"

That was the last time Johnny had tried to get her contact information, the story already an office legend once Donghyuck heard about it. Thank Christ the surveillance boys were still the picture of innocence with regard to the events at Magic Carpet. Johnny’s regular gifts of coffee and kolaches to their van during stakeouts was sign enough that he'd worried about it.

Everyone seemed to know but her.

"She'd be poring through call records for three years before seeing daylight," Johnny says, as if he isn't also under lock and key because of her tip. He's assuring himself more than his partner.

"You really don't see it, do you?" Jaehyun says.

The last time he'd been in the same building with you was all the way back in Gran Hotel Ciudad in Mexico City, where you'd mingled with the black-suited vultures closing in on some shady IMF meet-up. All those scavengers picking at the bones of a country in crisis couldn't see you coming, your teeth shining bright as you went in for the kill.

He’d kept tabs on you from well above the lobby, watching as you spun your web in a gold lamé evening dress and blonde wig. It took less than a half-an-hour for you to leave, separately of course, an untouched cocktail traded for a room key.

Another fatcat foreign banker dying of natural causes wouldn't make local papers, much less international ones, but that was the beauty of your work: small and necessary changes with downwards cascading effects towards something better. Uncelebrated and too ugly to look at closely, like wiping the dust off a grimy wall with the hopes that if you did it enough times it might be clean someday.

The closest he'd gotten to being marked was the day after, when he’d followed you to Chapultepec Park. Johnny was nursing a headache after a night on comms, so Jaehyun had gone alone, unsure of where your path was taking you now that the job was out the door on a white-sheeted stretcher and loaded into a quiet ambulance.

He didn't expect you to go to the zoo.

You'd beelined past the butterfly exhibit for the main attraction, the flimsy chain-link fence separating you and a crowd of children with preciously-held balloons and cheap merchandise. You'd all watched through the fence as a large, round ball of black and white fur carefully picked from a pile of bamboo, its back turned to the crowd.

You'd waited long after others walked away from the disappointing display, no signs of fidgeting or disquiet. Just a woman in a red coat, your hair covered in a shawl better suited to someone older.

He'd wondered how long it would take you to give up and find a different vantage.

And then, like a dandelion fuzz caught on the wind, a smaller ball of black and white broke free of its mother's reach, tiny legs toddling into the dusty yard.

"El pequeño panda!" repeated chant-like around you, growing louder before breaking into quiet applause. As careful as observers were to not disturb the baby panda, the crowd surged to see it, and in an instant he'd lost you.

Later, wandering through an aviary of birds, fighting to glimpse a flash of red in the greenery, he realized you'd lost him.

"You chase her but she’s never going to be the one who gets caught." Jaehyun finds himself explaining. "She‘s better than either of us."

As inept as he feels he's still able to pull your chin up with his offhand to kiss your face. He follows the tracks of smudged mascara down to your lips. And then he holds, letting you lead, even if it kills him.

He's back in the dark of a basement pool, knowing you'll follow. There’s the careful response, reading intent, waiting for an explosive risk that will never come. A trauma response he understands too well, just like he understands when you finally close in to consume him.

You don't seem to mind that his mouth stays closed, kissing him deeply for the both of you. Your hands thread over the back of his neck, gentle to keep from hurting him, as you show him what he already knows.

"Well, I should get going," Johnny says nonchalantly, giving you both a wide berth as he skirts towards the door. It's not nearly enough space–you turn around and snatch his jacket, yanking so hard he stumbles.

"No," you say. "Don't think you can weasel out of this."

Jaehyun meets Johnny's apologetic look over you, tossing his head rather than shrugging.

"Stay," Jaehyun says. "We have a lot to talk about."

Another room, another rainy evening edging into hours past the acceptable point of socialization. But there’s a different kind of mood as you put the record on the hi-fi, the black and gold sleeve propped up on the clean shelf.

You turn up the volume knob until the ambient recording drowns out the drum of the weather, Roberta Flack's vocals put to tape a decade ago rising over a familiar melody.

"I heard he sang a good song, I heard he had a style

And so I came to see him, to listen for a while . . ."

By the chorus you’ve moved away from the sound system, sitting at the dinette set table next to the man picking from an already-withered clutch of daisies. You’d bought them from a bodega near the restaurant, sure they wouldn't live long in the bottle you'd dumped them in after pouring spoiled milk out of it. At least you think they add a touch of sun to the clean but dark space.

"He loves me . . ." You pluck from the flower Johnny’s mangling, yellow pollen dusting your fingers.

". . . she loves me not," he says, crushing a petal.

He leans back in the too-small chair, eyeing the doorway to Jaehyun's bedroom. Both of you spend a few moments listening to the shower as it continues, gauging his response before speaking again.

"Thank you for . . . “ you say.

"Don't tell me you're having second thoughts about keeping me here," he jests, lamely.

"Fuck off," you shoot back immediately.

His eyes go wide, but so does his smile. "That’s better."

"I was going to thank you for introducing me to the best late night restaurant in the DMV," you sigh with a dramatic flourish. "Shame you can't take a compliment."

"I told you, it's his favorite Tom Kha Gai. Also it's not usually open that late, I'm just that good."

"Oh really," you say. "Someday you'll tell me how you ended up fluent in Thai."

"Someday," he assures.

"What does dor sun mean, exactly?"

"Nothing you have to trouble yourself with," Johnny says. "Before I go–"

"You're not leaving," you cut him off.

"As I was saying, before I go," Johnny acts like he hasn't heard a word out of your mouth. "I'd like to see you again, alone. Maybe one drink. Or two. To celebrate, of course."

"You're really going." You can't hide the disappointment that seeps into your realization.

"Just looking out for both of us, babydoll," Johnny says, grabbing his overcoat from where it's draped over the couch. “We’ll see each other at the office.”

“Is that all this is to you?”

The shower stops in the next room, leaving you both hanging as the next track on the record begins. It’s an appropriately sad song for a goodbye which is why you move to turn the stereo down immediately, knob twisting in time with his own on the door handle.

"You convinced me to stay earlier and now you're the one running," you continue. "Do I really scare you that much?"

"No," he says, not turning around but not opening the door.

"If you're going, I'm going–"

There's a loud clank and a ringing behind you as something hits the table, both of you turning to see Jaehyun set down a bottle. He’s still shirtless and wet-haired from the shower, the sling he’d been wearing discarded on the table.

"Feels like I'm watching Days Of Our Lives," he laments, pouring clumsily from the half-empty bottle of Maker’s Mark into his water glass. "Either of you walks out and I'm drinking this entire thing by myself."

Your attention stays on Johnny, praying he'll give in before you do. You see the indecision burning in his brown eyes, flicking between you and the door.

"Drinking game. My choice," Jaehyun says, downing two fingers without a sign he’s registering the burn.

“One condition,” Johnny says, sighing. “Take it easy or I’ll drag you back to medical.”

You’re sure the threat is real from the atypical irritation in his movements. He drops his things by the door, sliding past you without looking at you except to turn the song back up. Again you chase him, this time into the kitchen where he’s retrieving glasses and ice.

“What‘s your problem?”

You’re blindsided by this change after the easy chatter you’d had earlier, sitting in an empty, neon-lit restaurant teasing each other over bottles of Singha. Talking to Johnny had distracted you from your nervousness, even if part of the reason you felt so out-of-sorts was sitting across from you, picking at a green papaya salad.

He’d seen your relief that Jaehyun wasn’t in his mandated bed, and while he didn’t say anything about it you needed to explain. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to see him, but that you just really didn't know what to say.

That open conversation in Verona made you realize how completely unschooled you were in the messy business of feelings. Sex was easy, or at least you'd thought it was; you knew how simple it would be to disappear into the chemistry that had always been there.

This–being wanted, wanting someone back–was like reading a map of the moon while strapped to a rocket on a collision course with it.

“I’ve never . . . Done this.”

Johnny doesn’t react with his usual quippy response.

“Are you trying to tell me you’ve never dated anyone?” he asks.

“You know my record.” You pick at the label on your beer bottle. “I’m just . . . going to need your help to figure all this out.”

“I’m flattered but you’re asking the wrong person.” He smirks at you, but you don’t miss the way he fidgets, clearly wanting an out from the conversation.

Everything you’d heard about him not being the “feelings type” wasn’t going to deter you, not when you knew someone like Jaehyun trusted him with his life, and with whatever intimacy they had outside your purview.

“You’ve never dated, either?” you ask.

“There’s probably a few people out there who’d be upset if I said ‘no’,” he jokes. “Job doesn’t really allow for it.”

“Could it, though, if you wanted it to?”

Johnny smiles wryly, looking away as the owner returns with two grocery bags loaded with much more than you'd heard him order.

“Let me know when you find out.”

Behind you Jaehyun has sat at the old but loved piano taking up a corner of the room, playing a one-handed accompaniment to the music. It gives you an opening to close in on Johnny, touching his arm and making him look down at you.

“Seriously, be honest with me, what’s your problem?” You repeat.

He pushes you into the counter with a movement of his hips, reaching around you to drop ice in a set of mismatched crystal tumblers.

“I don’t have a problem.” Johnny says just loud enough for you to hear. “You two have a problem. And a critical lack of communication skills. Just talk to him. Or don’t, I don’t know. Make it simple.”

“I wanted you to–”

“You really don’t need me here to mediate,” he says. “You’d be fucking it out right now instead of having another of your little mope sessions.”

He’s jealous, you think. You feel a tiny bit of satisfaction that he’s being honest with you, even if it isn’t direct.

“That sounds suspiciously like our problem,” you say, pressing back into him. “Is this a classic case of projection?”

Johnny looks at you like he's embarrassed for the both of you, cringing.

“At least let me get drunk before you psycho-analyze me,” he says. “And don’t say I'm deflecting.”

You don’t give him the satisfaction of taking his bait. “Earlier when I was asking for help figuring this all out, you do know I was talking about us, right?”

“Us as in all—“

“You and I, whatever we are.”

“Right,” he says. “Now you know why I wanted to leave.”

“You’re not leaving,” Jaehyun interrupts from the other side of the room, sounding exasperated. “And if anyone is mediating, it’s me. Get over here.”

Johnny opens his mouth to say something but immediately stops, gritting his teeth.

“Thank you again for being here,” you say, squeezing his arm reassuringly.

The look he gives you is dangerous, especially with proximity.

“You should be saying ‘sorry’,” he says, under his breath. You act like you don’t have a clue as to what he means, smiling carefully. He doesn’t break his stare, slowly backing you out of the kitchen.

“Scratch that: you will be,” he promises as he passes by.

It takes a second to compose yourself, the apartment feeling much warmer. You shrug out of your coat and a second layer of suit jacket, untucking your blouse before sitting down between the two men at the table.

“No strip poker I take it,” Johnny says, already drinking.

“No Never Have I Ever, either.” You shake your head.

“Two truths and a lie.” Jaehyun informs you.

“You sure that’s fair to her?” Johnny asks, cryptically.

“You’d be surprised at what I know about you,” you answer for him. “And what you still don’t know about me.”

“Fair enough,” Johnny says. “Truth and lies it is.”

“I’ll start,” Jaehyun says, pouring two fingers of whiskey followed by an equal amount of water. “I’ve never ridden a horse. I won a state championship for swimming 200m freestyle. My first assignment was in the Philippines.”

“Lame,” Johnny says. “It’s the horse one.”

You nod to indicate your guess.

“Drink,” he says. “It was the 400m.”

“Even more lame.” Johnny says, swallowing. You sip yours, meeting Jaehyun’s eyes over the rim of the glass.

“Your turn.”

“I’m allergic to cats. I don’t like okra. I didn’t graduate high school.” You look up and find them nodding at each other in some kind of secret agreement.

“Cats,” they both say, in stereo.

“Drink.”

“What? You have one—“ Johnny says, cutting short when he realizes his admission. “I saw the hair on your coat.”

”Allergy shots,” you shrug. “I don’t mind okra.”

“You two having a contest to see which one of you is more boring?” Johnny asks, scowling. “Can we move on to the fun part?”

“By all means,” Jaehyun says.

“Let’s see,” he rolls the glass on the tabletop. “I had my tonsils taken out when I was nine. I was born in Chicago’s South Side. I haven’t had sex with anyone in over a year.”

“The sex one, obviously,” you say, but Jaehyun shakes his head.

“Different neighborhood, right?” he asks, earning a nod from Johnny.

“Oh,” you say, drinking. You’re flushed, transported back to the Tiger’s Den.

“It’s actually been two years, but that’s still over a year,” Johnny says, staring at you. “No offense Jae, drunken hand-jobs don’t count.”

“None taken,” the other man says tiredly, pouring more liquor.

“So?” Your face is burning, not just from the whiskey. “What do you want, a medal?”

“For starters it would be nice if you stopped telling new people that I’m a—and I quote—‘walking, talking health risk’.”

“Take it up with Donghyuck, he’s the reason the secretarial pool thinks you have syph—“

“Stop it.” Jaehyun snaps. “None of us have slept with other people since Miami, none of us is handling it well.”

Neither of you have a rebuttal.

“So try this for two truths and a lie: Johnny is in love with you,” Jaehyun starts, ignoring the startled look on his friend’s face. “He mistakenly thinks this makes him a bad friend. He was planning on telling you all of this.”

The record has played out, so Jaehyun’s words are punctuated by the mechanical click of the arm automatically moving away.

“I was. Eventually,” Johnny says, but he still drains his glass. He looks at Jaehyun pointedly. “And to be clear, I don’t think it makes me a bad friend to you.”

“It does, but not for the reasons you think, John,” Jaehyun says, quietly. He places his hand over yours on the table. “You okay?”

“No,” you confess, still watching Johnny act like the exposure of his feelings means as much as a weather forecast. “My turn, then.”

They both look at you like you’re a bomb set to explode, tense and unsure of how to stop it. You let them suffer as you think of the best way to word what you’ve wanted to say since you’d left them in Florida.

“If I can’t be with both of you, romantically and equally, I would rather we just end it here,” you say, trying not to quake with how hard it is to say aloud. “I spent two years lying to myself about my own feelings and what I’m capable of and I’m tired of it.”

You feel like you’re rambling, waiting for Johnny to chime in or Jaehyun to move to you, but they let you catch your breath. You finish your drink, lips numbed.

“And I am definitely, absolutely, fully sane and rational and not in love with two of the dumbest and most frustrating men I have ever met in my entire life.”

You wait for them to respond, feeling like the earth has slowed down enough that you’re no longer crushed under the gravity fixing you to your seat.

Jaehyun speaks first, hand rising to your cheek. “You’re a horrible liar.”

“Learned from the best,” you say, kissing his palm. He leans in to kiss you properly but your chair is pulled back and almost out from under you. Johnny forces you to look at him.

“We’re going to have to work out some ground rules before I share you with this loser,” he says. He’s so close you can see the day-old stubble forming on his cheeks, blushed cheeks making him look younger.

“Don’t talk about my partner that way,” you warn.

“You'll see,” he says, pulling you up his thighs. He wraps you in a surprisingly gentle embrace, chin on your shoulder. “You can take over wrangling him out of his moods.”

"He’s talking about his moods," Jaehyun says wryly.

“Does this mean you’re not mad at me, anymore?” you ask.

“No," he says, kissing your cheek. “But I’m grateful you’ll have me anyway.”

“As if I’m not the lucky one—“ you begin, interrupted when Johnny stands up, arm wrapped under your thighs, taking you with him.

“Where do you want her?”

“I haven’t changed the sheets—“ Jaehyun says.

“Couch, then,” Johnny says, impatiently. “This isn’t going to reopen your stitches again, is it?”

“Again?” You look over his shoulder to see Jaehyun flexing his right arm with a grim smile on his face.

“Not if we’re careful.”

“You hear that baby, you’re going to have to be gentle with him,” Johnny says into your hair. “I’m not going to promise the same thing.”

“Don’t you think we should wait—“

“No,” they answer in unison as you’re dumped on the low sofa, Jaehyun sitting down beside you. You climb up onto your knees to inspect his injury, kissing the top of his shoulder once you’ve confirmed it’s healing well, fully closed and not radiating redness.

“Does it hurt?” You ask, trailing light kisses up his neck. He’s tense beneath your exploration, a little more than uncertain when you reach his mouth.

“Not anymore,” he sighs. “But really, I don’t want to rush you—“

"We can take our time later." You cut him off, tongue tangling with his. His bare skin is hot under your touch, feeling the dusting of hair on his chest and belly as you run your hand down to the band of his track pants.

"When I'm cleared we're taking a week," he promises. You love the way his eyes flutter close as you stroke him through the thin material, Johnny rubbing your back assuringly. You turn to him but he shakes his head, more serious than you expected.

“I just want to make you feel good right now,” you tell Jaehyun. He eases a little, looking at you with unfiltered adoration. "Thank you for being there for me when I needed you."

He’s not wearing underwear and is already thick and heavy, springing free when you pull the elastic down and around his muscled thighs. Your mouth follows your hand, taking him in your mouth until you feel him nudge against the back of your throat. Every stroke on your tongue is gentle but he’s writhing within seconds from the stimulation.

Johnny moves behind you, pulling you back on your knees. You don’t mind him as you take Jaehyun’s cock deep into your throat, precum coating it with each bob of your head.

“So pretty,” Johnny says, hiking your skirt up so your garters and lingerie set are visible. You feel a cautious slap on your ass and lean into it, focusing on the head of Jaehyun’s cock when a heavier blow lands on your thigh, nearer to your aching sex.

“Oh,” you say when he slaps between your legs, hand teasing through the damp silk.

“Still wet from when I almost fucked you on that conference table,” Johnny says. “Dirty little thing.”

“Not . . ." Jaehyun groans as each strike has you taking him deeper down your throat again. "We eat on that table."

“You should have seen Doyoung’s face,” Johnny says, making you move with gentle pats between your legs, following each up with a teasing rub. “Said we needed a form.”

Jaehyun isn’t far enough gone yet to not laugh at that. He pulls you off of him so he can kiss you, while your hand continues to work. His eyes are glazed once he’s done tasting himself on you, good hand fumbling at your blouse.

“Which one of us do you want first, baby?”

You glance behind you at Johnny kneeling on the couch, admiring the way he’s rolling up his shirt sleeves. “Think you can wait?”

“I can do better than that,” he says, sliding forward until he's pressed against you. You expect him to help you undress but instead he guides your leg over Jaehyun’s lap, hand moving up to pull your underwear to the side. You gasp as he nuzzles your neck below your ear. "You asked me for help, didn't you?"

You take your cue, gripping the back of the couch to steady yourself. Jaehyun's head follows, bent back when the other man helps angle his cock into you, finding you wet but oh-so-so-so-tight. Your mind dissolves with the first push, your body struggling to stretch after so long without.

“Good girl.” Johnny says, taking over. He grabs your rucked-up skirt over your hips, forcing you down and up until you're whimpering into Jaehyun’s mouth. Once you're coated enough to slide with ease Johnny guides you at a more punishing pace, not satisfied until you're riding the way he wants you to.

"Fuck," Jaehyun shudders, his hand coming up to palm you through your shirt. He fights at it until Johnny helps him unbutton and pull it open.

"Taste her for me," he says, freeing your breasts of the sheer fabric of your bra. Jaehyun's teeth scrape at the meat of them as he sucks on you, Johnny tweaking your other nipple into hardness.

"You're so good to me," you say, movement slowing as your hand snakes down to your aching core. Your lace underwear is making you feel constricted and you want him to feel you come before he loses it, but Johnny catches your wrist, holding it to the couch cushion until you stop fighting him.

Your other hand settles on his thigh, attempting to turn to kiss him while rocking up and down on Jaehyun. He grabs the back of your neck, fingers trapping you like a kitten by the scruff.

“Eyes on him,” he instructs. “Let me be your hands.”

Just that offer has you feeling hotter than a burning building, mind blanking when Johnny reaches down between you to lift your underwear to the side. He expertly rolls your clit with the pads of his fingers, making you cry out and Jaehyun moan when you clench around him.

His beautiful face is your whole world, the sharp pain of joy inside your chest feeding the growing tension inside you. You surrender control outside of how fast and how deep you can take him knowing he’s being pushed to the brink just as quickly.

“You’re so good,” you say, standing on your knees to take him so deep on the downward that you feel him in your core. Jaehyun rocks up into you, making low noises in the back of his throat as he fights his release. You kiss his nose and cheek, licking the sweat from his upper lip before biting it.

“I’m not—I’m—“ he says into your mouth. You can feel the build, can sense the way his breathing goes staccato, all while Johnny pulls you tighter like a string wrapped around his finger.

“Don’t stop,” you tell him. "Come for me, my love."

In moments Jaehyun crumbles, jerking up into you, quiet and yet somehow loud in the way his mouth is open and eyes are shut, releasing inside you.

You repeat the words silently as you settle into his lap, not wanting to follow so quickly but taken down anyway as Johnny applies just the right pressure in circles in your folds, making you orgasm so hard your vision flashes white as you seize around the pulsing cock inside you.

You finish with a whimper, kissing Jaehyun until his eyes finally open again.

"I don't think I actually woke up today," he murmurs, nose nudging yours. "Thank you for such a nice dream."

"Anything for you," you say, suddenly conscious that there's no one at your back.

You break away from kissing Jaehyun to claw at the man behind you, fingers twisting in Johnny’s vest and tugging him until he's close enough for you to taste the whiskey on his tongue.

You have a moment to feel everything you've been missing in that contact before Johnny leans forward to grab Jaehyun's face and give him the same deep kiss, pulling his bottom lip in his teeth when he parts.

"That was my way of saying sorry for being a bad friend," Johnny says. "And for the hand job comment."

“Thanks, I guess,” Jaehyun says once he’s able to breathe freely again. He’s beautifully fucked out and messy against the cushions, still favoring his right side.

“You can make it up to me later,” Johnny says, attention back on you as he pulls you off of him, hand cupped around your sex to keep the drip of cum off the couch. He settles for taking off your shirt and using it to clean up the mess.

You think you’re going to have a moment to reacclimate yourself but Johnny lifts you up again, hoisted into a bridal carry.

"I'm taking this to the bedroom," he says. "Be a pal and give me a head start.”

"There's clean–" Jaehyun begins.

"Fuck the sheets," Johnny says. “You can change them after I make her regret getting herself into this arrangement.”

You struggle only for as long as it takes for Johnny to take you into the half-lit room and plant you on the bed. He crouches over you where you lay, belt buckle digging into your bare thigh.

“You know you don’t scare me,” you say, sitting up on your elbows, bracing for an attack.

“Who says I want you to be afraid?” He counters, lifting you up. Once you're eye-to-eye and perched in his lap he waits, studying you, clearly with something to say.

"Then what do you want, sir?" The reminder of your offer is meant to be flirtatious but his response is bordering on sadness. Your hand immediately rises to his cheek as if you can keep the smile on his face by holding it there.

"I'm not going to lie and say I don't like hearing that," Johnny says, cautiously. "Just not right now."

"Okay," you concede. "Would you rather call me ma'am?"

He pulls you closer, forehead knocking against yours. "Stop being a brat for five seconds and let me think."

You nod into him, all too quickly reminded that he's still fully dressed while you’re half-naked and growing colder by the second.

It's clear Johnny is stalling when he breathes out explosively.

"Fuck, this is hard," he says. You don't interrupt, but you do run a hand through the long hair settling on his jaw, letting him know you're with him as he closes his eyes to find security.

"This was supposed to be something we talked about on the third or fourth date," he says. "I've had a few years to think about it, too, you know."

“We can still do that,” you say, earning a tap on your mouth from his finger.

"The one thing I kept going back to was that I wished I could have had my head screwed on straight when Jaehyun told me what kind of person you were. I think we got off on the wrong foot."

Your expression makes him wince a little at his own words.

"Not the–not anything we did, sex included," he explains. "Well, maybe the sex. The fighting-as-foreplay thing is nice, but if I'm being honest with you, I'm really not that kind of guy."

"I never would have guessed," you say, unable to refrain from teasing him.

He re-adjusts, clearly distracted by your weight on his thigh. "I have some pride, you know. I don’t want to just be someone you go to when you need a release with no strings attached."

"You know that’s not what I want, either," you say.

"Good,” he breathes. “Because I'm not a jealous person but I think I will be if I don't get all of you, when I want and how I want."

He leans in and kisses you, mouth tracing your pulse in your neck. "Do you know what I'm saying?"

You shake your head, feeling abruptly self-conscious. His hands trace lazily over your back, soothing you until you relax again.

"You're going to be a good girl for me,” he says. “Just me.”

It sounds a little like a warning, and you nod unconsciously.

"You're going to tell me what you want, and you don't get to run away or pretend like everything means nothing when it gets hard. And I promise if you can do that I can try, too."

He pulls back, studying your face. "Now tell me you regret asking me to stay."

"No," you look at him, warmly. "Why should I?"

"I really wanted to wait until we were alone but it's only fair," he says with an increase of threat. "Stand up for me."

You comply, watching as he moves to the edge of the bed, unzipping your skirt and letting it slide down your hips. Bare before him you’re reminded of the first time you’d undressed in front of him, and the way he’d kept his metaphorical cards in his pocket. You weren’t getting under his skin, anymore–he was getting under yours.

“What would you like?” You ask, placing your foot on his thigh for him to help take off your hose.

Johnny stops unclipping your stockings from your garter belt, smiling sweetly up at you.

“We can start with you calling me ‘sir’.”

His tone hasn’t changed but you sense the shift, complacent as he removes the last of your clothing, unclipping your bra and letting your ruined panties fall to the floor. He leaves your garter belt on, tugging on it to situate you between his knees.

“Yes, sir,” you say, softly.

“Do you know how to tell me when you’re feeling unsafe or uncomfortable?” He asks, stroking the outside of your leg in the same way one would pet an animal. He waits for you to reply, as calm and welcoming as he’d been in the office earlier.

“Do you mean a safe word?” you ask. “What are you wanting–"

“Traffic lights. Yellow for slow, red for stop. If I ask you if you’re green you say green. Got it?”

“Yes, sir.” You bite back what you really want to say, feeling your hackles raise. “Are you sober, sir?”

“Are you?” He counters, squeezing your thigh.

“Yes." You're reminded of your role when his grip tightens on you, fingers digging in. “Yes, sir.”

“Good girl,” he says. “Just needed a baseline for what we’re going to do.”

“What did you have in mind, sir?”

“For starters I think I’d like to make you beg me to fuck you,” he says, smoothly, “and then I’ll make you beg me to let you come.”

You shiver, gooseflesh prickling your bare arms and chest. The picture that was forming in your mind of being asked to jump headfirst into some kind of kink after this whirlwind of a day is suddenly very different.

"You can watch," he says–not to you. You look over to see Jaehyun in the doorway, getting a glimpse of his neutral expression before your chin is turned back to the man in front of you.

"Did I say you could look at him?" Johnny asks.

"No, sir," you murmur. He releases your jaw after the other man has moved into the room, not to the bed but somewhere else behind you.

"You don't do anything unless I tell you to. Don’t touch yourself, don’t touch me."

"Yes, sir."

Johnny stands up, loosening his tie as he switches places with you, pushing you back only so far. You feel the bed behind you but don't sit when he hasn't told you to, surprised when he drops to his knees. He’s so tall even on the floor he can kiss your ribs, having to crouch to touch your belly with his tongue.

This is the softest you’ve seen him, and it makes your heart race, not knowing how or when that explosive strength you’ve experienced firsthand will reveal itself. You watch with growing nervousness as he leans forward to kiss the crease between your thigh and lower abdomen. The gentle glide of his tongue there has you squirming, and he taps your leg in warning.

“Hold still,” he directs, working his way to the center and your puffy lips, parting them with soft flicks of his tongue. He opens you with his thumbs to lap up and down the short path between your entrance and where you need him the most, playing with you.

It's so good and so overwhelming that your legs shake, hands ghosting over his head rather than risk him telling you not to touch him, as desperately as you want to. Your knees finally buckle when he buries his face in your cunt, tongue curling into your entrance as he holds you up with flexed forearms.

He pulls back, wiping his face on his sleeve. “Lay down."

You don’t need to be told twice, collapsing on the bed, breathing heavily as Johnny takes up position between your legs again, reaching up to run a hot hand over your breasts. He goes back to eating you out so slowly and tenderly that soon you are angling your hips, trying to get more pressure relief, but his hand splays wide on your stomach to hold you down.

“You can make noise, baby,” Johnny says. "Tell me what feels good."

You’re not used to being vocal, but it’s easy when his fingers enter the mix again. He doesn’t penetrate you, just collects the wetness in circles, barely dipping into your entrance. You grip the bed the first time his tongue flicks against your clit, feeling every brush of it as a jolt of anticipation too far and few between to have you doing anything but whining.

"Please, sir, more," you breathe, gripping the sheets so you don't forget and touch yourself.

"You think it's that easy? After making me wait for you?" He nips at the inside of your thigh. He must like your response because he bites you again, this time pulling one of your sensitive lips with a sharp tug.

It's painful but not enough to make you stop, the flat of his tongue following somehow worse. You cry out when he sucks again, and again, still with those two fingers pressing just far enough to remind you that you're empty.

"Please, please sir," you moan, feeling like it's been an eternity since you'd begun. "Please fuck me with your fingers."

Johnny slips one finger inside you, hooking up to the roughness inside. Your hips move on their own, and he pulls out, reaching up to squeeze your breast.

"Relax or you get nothing."

It's actually difficult to not be tense, consciously willing yourself to limpness until he's satisfied. He pulls on your sensitive nipple, returning to his work.

Johnny's hands have always engulfed your own in size but just half of one digit is a cruelty compared to when you've abused yourself on your own. He pumps inside of you slowly, letting you pull him in when you consciously squeeze around him.

"Pretty girl wants to swallow me whole," Johnny says, almost admiringly. "You want more?"

"Yes sir, please," you plead.

"What's that?" He asks, giving you two fingers again but letting his hand rest the moment he’s inside of you. Your mind races for the right thing to say in spite of your incoherency, gripping around him as if it would do you any favors.

"I need to know what you want, baby girl."

“More please,” you say, but he pulls out, lapping lazily.

“Please, sir,” you correct.

“I don’t think you’ve earned it, yet,” he says lightly. He sucks on your clit without warning, making you jerk.

“Please give me your fingers, sir,” you whine. He’s getting more aggressive in his actions, pulling on your hood and letting spit drip down on it.

“Be specific.”

“Three, please, sir?” you ask. “Just fill me, please.”

You hear him huff, reaching to a completely unexpected destination, much lower. His attention is on your rim, gentle as he pushes against the much tighter hole.

“Green?”

“Green, sir,” you say, relaxing now that you’re over the initial shock. He probes with a single finger, stretching you as your cunt clenches around nothing.

It's a new sensation, taking a while to get accustomed to, but not unpleasant. You can feel how close it is to typical penetration, how it must feel so much more intense for the person inside.

"Breathe, baby," Jaehyun says, from the corner of the room. You sneak a look at him, seeing his fist dropping lazily over his lap in a way that has fire igniting in your body.

Johnny's off you so quickly you don't even realize he's gone until you hear the nightstand drawer opening.

"Did I say you could look at him?" He asks.

"No sir, I'm sorry–"

"You know how to play games but you don't know the rules," he drawls. "You only say sorry when I tell you to be."

You nod rather than reply, hands clenched at your sides, looking at the ceiling as your thighs close on the need you've laid bare, wetness cooling as it dries.

Johnny sits beside you on the bed, removing his clothing.

"Look at me," he instructs. You roll your head, and whatever he sees on your face prompts him to hold it, lifting your head gently and wrapping the embroidered silk of his tie around your face.

With the impromptu blindfold on there's nothing but the sound of your own breathing and the involuntary shudder that courses through you as you feel lost to that blank space. It's too much, too soon, but you can’t bring yourself to say the word yellow.

Johnny fixes your hair, pulling errant strands from the fabric. You flinch when he touches your face, thumb tracing your lips.

"Shh. You're safe here, I'm never going to hurt you or make you afraid. Even if you want that, we'll talk through it first," he assures you. "Are we good?"

You nod. "Green. Sir."

"Thank you," he says, pulling your hand from where it's wrapped defensively around your middle. He places it on his bare chest, letting you feel how much his heart is pounding.

"You really are such a good girl. Now show me what you want."

He brings your hand down with yours, lets you figure out how to unbuckle his belt and undress him in the dark. You want to surge forward but it's so much more beautiful discovering him with your fingers, without any reminders of the outside world besides the soft drum of rain outside.

Johnny isn't quiet whenever you find a sensitive place to touch or place your mouth, letting out a moan when you wrap both hands around him, finding each vein and ridge with your tongue until he's pulling you back by the hair.

"That’s enough," he says.

There's no fighting or protesting left in you, as much as you want to make him feel what you feel. You're enraptured the moment his mouth is on yours again, supported by long fingers holding your neck as he fills you with the taste of your own arousal.

You've got a good memory, you'd been kissed plenty today and in the past, but this is so different it may as well be another person. He's tender, every move laced with barely-contained passion, not fucking you at all but somehow still making love to you as he drops over you on the bed.

“This is what I wanted, baby. You with your walls down. No games,” he hums. Johnny pulls you on to your side, still kissing you deeply. You can feel his length against your belly like a brand, leaving a trail.

"I want you to come without touching yourself," he says, breath on your cheek as he reaches over you. "I want to feel it."

You don't know what he means but you're not thinking anymore, feeling something cold and liquid slide over your backside, right before he penetrates you with his fingers. You can't count while trying to calm yourself, little aahs fed into his mouth.

"Please, please fuck me," you cry out, arching into him and wrapping your leg around his hip. His body against you grants just a little relief every time he slides up against your throbbing cunt, but you don’t force it.

"So tight, baby," he says, "Just a little more. Relax for me."

You melt into him, relishing the way his fingers push you open, fingernails in his shoulders transcribing your comfort when your words are gone. He still isn't in you, not even when you're truly begging, curled into his chest.

"I'll come, I'll come," you promise.

"Stop torturing her," Jaehyun says, moving behind you.

Johnny's fingers slip out of you, replaced by something much larger and warmer, only the tip but making you burn, your choked cry captured on Johnny’s tongue as he fucks into you at the same time.

There's nothing in the entire universe now but you and the two of them on either side of you, Jaehyun holding you tight as Johnny eases into you, hand gently pulling your thigh to angle you just so. Neither of them is moving fast or rough, just taking their time, kissing you in turns until you don't recognize whose mouth it is, unsure even of your own.

You feel how little the barrier between skin and sinew is now that you’re being pulled apart and back together again. You didn't know it could feel this good, but it’s not the fullness or the way you're being used now but the way you feel completed, like there never was an end or a beginning to the three of you at all.

"Oh god, you feel that," Johnny says, voice strangely weak. "She‘s coming so hard."

You didn't even realize but it's true, you're clenching in such powerful ticks and stops that it seems unreal. Neither of them waits, taking turns to work their way in. Jaehyun holds still when Johnny begins to let go, just half-way sheathed but rutting like he’s going to force every last ounce of your orgasm onto himself.

You know he's coming when he's ripped the blindfold from you, fingers clenched in your hair, making you watch as he fucks you full. Your belly blooms with warmth as you comfort him through his own intense finish, stilling him with kisses.

You body is still seizing around the intrusion of Jaehyun’s cock, and you jerk when he moves again behind you, penetrating you deeper than before.

"No baby," he says, holding you. "Is it too much?"

"No, please don’t stop," you tell him, face in the sheets. You feel Johnny reach over you to hold his head like he did yours, both of you assuring him as he chases his finish. It doesn't take long, soothed by gentle kisses from the other man still inside you.

Jaehyun pulls out in the end, coating your back in heat, head pressed into your shoulder. You reach behind you to feel his closed-mouth smile, making sure he knows you're with him still.

"Told you not to worry about the sheets," Johnny says, tracing circles on your temple with sticky fingers.

"Do you regret it now?" Jaehyun asks, kissing your spine. Johnny pulls back a little to check your face, and you wipe the sweat and hair from his forehead with a newfound sense of ownership.

"Not even a little bit," you say. You've never felt more confident in an answer in your entire life.

epilogue

Johnny waits at the doorway, hands going numb as the glasses in his hand sweat with humidity. It’s warmer than it should be on the coast, the air quiet except for the discordant buzz of insects in the palms and bushes outside the house. The sky is blessedly calm, burnt purple by the sunset.

You’re sitting with your feet buried in the white sand, laughing at something he can’t hear, as Jae’s shoulders curve into his own response, low and relaxed.

He doesn’t know what you’re talking about but there’s a number of things that cross his mind: the absurd episode of Dallas you’d caught before the nightly news, or maybe the old woman in the grocery story who’d asked which one of the spies you were married to before giving you an earful about there only being one brand of peeled tomatoes on the island.

It had taken close to a decade to find himself here drowning in domesticity–not exactly the reward he’d imagined doing his time in shitty hotel room stakeouts or staging extrajudicial assassinations. Uncountable hours lying in wait for action were all for this: another kind of boredom, but at least a chosen one.

Taeyong had given you all two weeks, maybe three on Sanibel–an assignment, of course. Johnny knew better. That manipulative little bastard had laughed in his face the first day after everything had resolved, recognizing the spring in Johnny’s step even when he’d tried to hide it.

“You happy now?” Lee had asked, looking pleased with himself. The promotion had been his idea, as had been locking you both in his office to either fight or fuck it out. He’d been there to see the absolute disaster of your interrogation, trying to hold in laughter as the first prospective female field agent candidate in years of NCTA scouting turned the tables on them all.

You’d been a special project after that, carefully pushed around with a catspaw touch until he’d felt the time was right. It wasn’t the first time the Director had played puppeteer to keep his agents sane and functioning, buying into that new-age bullshit about psychological well-being having just as much importance as security in a job with a high risk of death or dismemberment.

Johnny was all too familiar with Taeyong’s Bohemian philosophy on the subject of sex: when one’s life was one’s work, or vice versa–get it out of your system as frequently and as safely as possible. He supposes he agrees with it, but it had never really been enough in the past and it certainly wouldn’t be now.

“Yeah, I think maybe I am,” he’d answered. Just not for the reasons you think I am, he’d thought.

And maybe he is happy. Ecstatic, even if he refuses to show it.

He’s come to realize that he’s happiest when he can just have you around, when he can know you’re taken care of and getting a full night’s sleep.

A difficult thing when you’d refused to share a bed with either of them in that capacity–you wouldn’t stay the night at either of their places if you could help it, using that dumb stray cat you’d adopted as an excuse. Jisung was probably already in Medical with toxoplasmosis from having to feed it, another concession from the Director when you’d tried to get out of this trip, too.

In a one-bedroom bungalow with a single king-size bed, your choices in how to work out the next steps in your relationship had dwindled to nil. Jaehyun had all but chained you to it (still very much something Johnny wanted to try, when and if you wanted it again). You’d fought tooth and nail, only giving in when you’d seen how much it hurt the man. As if the worst thing in the world to deny someone with a world-record-worthy count of snapped necks was a cuddle.

You claimed you weren’t used to their animal-like snoring or the tangle of limbs but Johnny knew better. He’d found you curled on a rug next to the living room table your second night of vacation and had left you there, undisturbed, your face finally free of whatever made you jolt awake in a cold sweat in the middle of the night.

He knew you’d come back, eventually. In the hours before sunrise your hands would quietly encircle his neck, your nose buried in his hair or the pillow between you and Jaehyun. You’d pretend to sleep but he can feel you listen, breathing deeply, unburdened, until the light slants heavy over the ocean.

“Penny for your thoughts,” you say, looking up at him with the expression he knows too well—guarded but hopeful.

He’s told you that you’re beautiful a hundred times and he thinks maybe in a few hundred more you’ll believe him. It’s not in how you appear or even how you act but in the way you observe and are ready for whatever comes your way. That’s what he likes–you will always keep it interesting.

“You’ll need a dollar,” he says, slipping beside you and handing you your drink. Your hand closes around his, but it’s your head on his arm that makes his heart sing.

“Should have known not to put a price on whatever is going on there,” you say, taking a sip. “How did you know this is what I wanted?”

“Lucky guess,” he says. You lean in to kiss him, ginger and rum and lime on your tongue. It tastes a little like love.

previous | finis (or is it . . . ?)

[frog-man-blog]

what are your ava/avm hcs

Mine are probably very common, but I’d love to share

Also I hope you don’t mind if I add what pronouns I use for them.

Orange (He/They)

- Ever since they’ve unlocked their ability, their naps have become much longer, sometimes ranging to an hour or two then their usual power naps.

- Has a slight connection with Victim in a way, but cannot interact with them.

- Their ability is slowly eating away their mind, meaning in time, they won’t be able to control themselves and could possibly end up like younger Chosen

- Doesn’t know their created name is “The Second Coming” as Alan never told them their real name. So they just believe “Orange” was their created name.

- Their friends are like an energy source to him. Without them, they can spring out of control or resort to distressed behavior. Although he can be without them alone for long periods of time, it’s only when they assume or have a sense that their friends in danger.

Green (He/Him)

- Although he’s practically great at everything, he is very self conscious about it, wanting to find something he isn’t good at.

- For some reason, he has this strong magical connection towards Orange. Although he doesn’t have powers himself, it’s as if the energy source for that power comes from him.

- Whenever he isn’t around Orange (or vice versa) he’s nutritious for having little breakdowns. He feels like he can’t do anything without Orange by his side, and because of that, his ability to fight or defend himself lowers.

Red (He/They)

- Red became vegan as they have a strong love towards animals.

- He is a lot stronger than he looks, suppressing a lot of his abilities to fight in order not to harm his friends after the discovery incident.

- He is quite the chef, being the one that cooks for the sticks much more often since his cooking is ✨incredible✨

Blue (He/Him)

- Besides the whole “Alcoholic” and “Drug Addict” nature from him, he’s like one of those funny uncles from T.V shows.

(I literally don’t have like- any HC for Blue LMAO)

Yellow (He/She/They)

- Definition of a dumbass in a scientist body.

- Professional prankster. April is a day where no one is spared from their antics

- Yellow is by far the most intelligent out of all the sticks, as he is capable of learning many different softwares in the matter of seconds.

- He sometimes feels excluded from the group. Although they love him deep inside, he can’t help the feeling that they’d be better off without him. 

Purple (He/They/She)

- They’ve always hated themselves. Mimicking actions of those around him as to be liked and wanted from others

- It’s not known on where they came from, however a little birdie once said he used to live on a stick figure site before it was blown up and destroyed by two powerful deities.

- Purple doesn’t know how to fight. Only picking up moves here and there, however their fighting skills are very weak.

- They actually quite enjoy redstone and technology. Finding it as a coping mechanism when they’re distressed.

Chosen (He/Him)

- Chosen suppressed his abilities after Dark was defeated. He didn’t want to cause anymore destruction after everything and just wants to reform to a better person.

- Along with suppressing his abilities, ever since Orange unlocked their power, His powers have been slowly weakening and disappearing over time.

- He is biologically related to Orange, and sees him as younger sibling, although it’s not exactly clear on how they’re related.

Dark (He/Him)

- Attachment issues

- He was doomed from the beginning. No matter what kind of fate was in store for him, he was destined to fall.

- He ended up becoming partially blind in one eye, due to derby from Alan’s old PC breaking and cracking. He covers it up, as although he can still see from that eye, he doesn’t find the point in it.

- It’s unknown whether or not he’s related towards Orange in any way.

Victim (He/They)

- Watches over Orange through the screens

- They’re forever trapped in the void of deleted entities and creations, being the only living thing left in the dark abyss out of pure a miracle.

- Their body is covered in static, as the void couldn’t completely take over them. However, it is slowly eating away their body and will soon mold them into something that wouldn’t be seen as a stick figure anymore.

- Has a connection towards Orange in a way. They’re able to watch their every move, yet has no way to physically contact them.

- It’s unknown whether or not Orange and Chosen are related to them. However, Victim likes to believe they are in hopes he can return one day to his “family”

- They will forever hold hold a grudge against Alan. The first chance they get, they’ll make his life a living hell for what he’s done to them.

(I don’t have any for Mango Tango, mainly because I’d like to observe more of him before I come to any ideas)

This was long af, and there’s much more I’ve yet to say, but I hope you like them lol.

[radiorenjun]

I Don't Need It

• Pairing: Na Jaemin x Reader

• Genre: Angst, Comedy, Fluff

• Na Jaemin despised the idea of soulmates, he wanted to fight against fate for choosing his soulmate for him. Even if it means his stubborn childhood best friend wouldn't stop trying to make him accept about the similar tattoos on their wrists.

• Warnings: mental breakdowns, heartbreak, rejection, major angst, arguments, flashbacks, physical injuries, fighting, underaged drinking, panic attacks, mentions of death, slight mentions of drugs(?), BY FAR THE ANGSTIEST CHAPTER I’VE WRITTEN IN THIS DAMN SERIES.

• Wordcount : 11 k

• Masterlist here!

• Chapters: XII, XIII

“So are you coming to Hyunjin’s party this Friday?” Hyuck asked, poking your hand with the back of his pencil. You turned to him, humming in response. “You know! His parents are on a business trip for the week and his dramatic ass decided to throw a party,” he explained causing you to let out a small ‘oh’.

“Donghyuck, you know very well I don’t do parties. Plus the bad kids usually spike the coke with alcohol. We’re underaged,” you stated with a roll of your eyes, glancing at the teacher, who was marking papers from last week’s pop quiz, for a split second. “We’re almost 18,” he deadpanned.

“The keyword is ‘almost’, Hyuck. We’re not of legal age yet. Sure a few of us are but that doesn’t mean we should,” you huffed as Hyuck let out a small scoff. “Come on, you’ve never been to a party in months! Let loose a little! Exams are catching up, we need to relax for a bit before we get stress piling up our backs!” Hyuck exclaimed before being silenced by the teacher.

“Lee Donghyuck! No talking in class!” he barked, causing Hyuck to flinch at the loud tone. “Sorry sir!” he said with an enthusiastic tone before turning to you with an unbothered expression, tapping his pen against the book in front of him. “So, you in or not?” he asked, raising a brow at you with a smug expression on his face.

“Why are you so keen on getting me into this party anyways? Hyunjin, himself, doesn’t mind that I’m not coming,” you chuckled, taking your whiteout to remove the word you misspelled. “I just haven’t seen you loosen up in a long time, you know? Enjoying music with your pals, hanging out and drinking some coke. The fun things people our age do,” he explained, causing you to scrunch your nose in confusion.

“I don’t think underaged drinking is ‘fun’, what if the police come or something? The neighbours could’ve called them for being too loud,” you raised your brow, causing Hyuck to take a deep breath as if to say ‘you’re overthinking this too much, you dumbass’. “Come on, you’re an extrovert, aren’t you? Can’t you at least show a bit of interest in this? This could be the last party of our senior year,” Hyuck whined.

“It is tempting, I admit. But the thought of getting my drink spiked or the police coming in to arrest me isn’t that sexy, you know?” you said with a sarcastic roll of your eyes. “It’s still tempting, right? Good enough, I’ll have Renjun and the others pick you up on Friday, then,” he gave you a small thumbs up before finally focusing on his work.

You couldn’t even refuse, you knew once Hyuck set his mind onto something, there was no turning back. Accepting defeat you went back into working on your own assignment before your head shot up in alarm as your mind finally processed his words. “Wait, Renjun and the others are coming too?” you asked incredulously.

Hyuck nodded, letting out a small hum of confirmation, not looking up from his paper. “The others managed to drag both Renjun and Chungha into this so you won’t be alone if you end up sulking in some corner of the party,” he jokes, scratching out a sentence he wrote aggressively on his paper. “That’s seriously concerning,” you furrowed your brows.

“It works either way,” he shrugged casually.

“I can’t believe you actually dragged me to a party,” you groaned, glaring daggers into Renjun’s skull. The said boy rolled his eyes at you, “in my defense, I’m also getting dragged into this party!” he exclaimed, gesturing to the sunshine-like boy smiling gingerly in the driver's seat. “You guys need to relax before the exam season starts. You’ll be thanking me for dragging you here in the future,” Hyuck said as he made a left turn.

“I’m sure that’s not happening anytime soon,” Yeoreum snickered, shaking her head as she continued to text on her phone. “Come on! Almost everyone in school is coming! At least look happy for it. Hyunjin always throws the best parties,” Hyuck whined, finally parking in the vacant spot beside what seems to be one of the football player’s cars.

“True. I rarely go to Hyunjin’s parties. His house is large as fuck, I rather not get lost again to see people making out or drinking in every corner,” Hwall joked, fixing his hair in the rear view mirror. “No kidding, he’s a rich kid! Second rich I mean, right below Chenle,” Yeoreum exaggerated, giggling when she remembered how Chenle offered to buy her a laptop in exchange for her homework answers.

You rolled your eyes at them, opening the door to step out of the car once Hyuck parked properly. Loud music pierced your ears as you turned your head towards the large house. You and your friends walk up the porch, watching how a few students you barely know were sitting on the porch drinking whatever liquid they poured in their red solo cup.

“Ugh, it reeks of alcohol,” you scrunch your face in disgust when you enter the door, standing close to your friends as your eyes scan the crowd of bodies in the room. “Someone must’ve spiked a few of the drinks,” Renjun commented, a frown placed on his lips as he examined a half filled cup filled with what was supposed to be coke but reeks of alcohol. You peeked into the cup, scrunching your nose when you smelled the ever-so-familiar bittersweet scent.

“Whatever. Dude, look! I forgot how Hyunjin had a cheese and chocolate fondue maker!” Hyuck exclaimed, pointing at the table filled with foods and drinks. “Hey! Hyuck! Y/n! Renjun!” a familiar voice called out from the sea of people dancing and chatting. You turned your head to see that none other than Hwang Hyunjin, the party hoster, himself had come up to you.

“It’s so good to see you here, it’s been a long time since I saw you guys in this kind of an environment,” Hyujin chuckled, giving Hyuck and Renjun those typical bro-hugs that they usually do. “Well, I would be fast asleep in my bed right now if it weren’t for a certain someone,” you nodded your head to Hyuck who was sinking a strawberry under the chocolate fountain with a toothpick. Hyuck grinned, “yep, that’s me! You’re welcome, by the way!”

Hyunjin laughed, taking a sip of his own red cup afterwards. “Well then, don’t let me stop you from having your own fun. Go crazy and relax! This is our last year of highschool after all, embrace it!” Hyunjin raised his hands up enthusiastically with a giggle. You chuckled, eyeing the cup in his hands before asking, “whatcha got there?” 

Hyunjin’s bright smile faltered as he stared down at his own cup with confusion. He shrugged at you. “Don’t know, really. A few of the seniors came in with some liquor and sodas for the ones who don't like alcohol so I think this is a bit of both? I don’t know, Hendery gave it to me a while ago,” he explained, shaking the cup to watch the liquid inside swoosh around. 

“But it’s good, though. Want to try?” Hyunjin asked, stretching his hand to gesture you to take his cup. Renjun stepped in before you could reply, pushing Hyunjin’s hand away as he shook his head. “No thanks, we’re good.” he replied shortly. “Cokes good for us, thanks anyways.” you added with a soft smile, grabbing a new cup from a box below the table.

“Where’s Hyuck?” Renjun asked all of a sudden, making you turn to where the boy in question had been previously helping himself to some fondue who had disappeared. “Dammit, he must’ve run off somewhere,” you mumbled, pouring yourself some coke from one of the large bottles. “Typical Lee Haechan, the party animal himself,” Hyunjin chuckled, trying to spot the honey skinned boy somewhere in the crowd before shaking his head.

“Anyways, I’m gonna get going. Enjoy the party,” Hyunjin gulped down the remaining contents of his beverage, wiping his lips with the back of his hand as he placed the cup back down on the table. “Try not to get into too much trouble,” he smiled, patting both of your shoulders before walking away. You clicked your tongue, sighing heavily as you spotted a few of your friends in between the crowds, smiling at how happy they looked.

“I’m going to go to the bathroom for a minute, you good with being alone?” Renjun asked, patting one of his pockets to check if his phone was still in his pocket. You nodded, shrugging. “Go ahead, I’m going to walk around and explore,” you shook the cup in your hands, watching the liquid swivel around. “Explore? What are you? Five?” He snorted, pulling out his phone. 

You rolled your eyes, shoving him forward playfully. “Just go, you idiot. I’ll call you if I need you,” you snickered, watching Renjun stick his tongue out playfully at you before going to find the bathroom. You sighed before standing up straight and started walking around the party. Taking a sip of your drink before scanning the room, hoping to find someone you knew. 

“Y/N!” 

You turned your head, cup in between your lips to see Jeno waving at you from the ping pong table. Smiling, you head on over to your friend, relieved to see a familiar face “Hey, I didn’t know you’re here,” Jeno greeted, patting you on the shoulder as you came up to him. “I just got here with the others, Hyuck dragged us here,” you explained, taking another sip as you examined the almost filled cups displayed on the table.

“We’re playing beer pong,” Yongbok, one of Jaemin’s teammates, explained, closing one eye to aim his ball on the target. “Beer pong?” you gaped, “aren’t you still 17, Yongbok?” you added with a raise of your brow. “Loosen up a little, y/n. It’s just a game, the loser has to chug this all down. And I’m not going to lose,” Yongbok replied with a small wink before tossing the ping pong ball, cheering when it landed on the cup.

“It’s just a little game, don’t worry, no ones actually going to drink,” Jeno waved it off, attempting to convince you to join in on their game. You raised your brow at him, “really?” you asked with a deadpan expression. Jeno let out a childish smile, grabbing the ping pong ball when Chanhee threw it at him. “Want to try?” he offered, handing you the small orange ball in his hands. “Me?” you raised your brow at him incredulously.

“Yeah, why not?” your friend shrugged casually. “It’s easy, just toss the ball till it lands on one of the cups,” he explained. “I know how beer pong works, you dumbass!” you retorted, eyeing the ball for a short moment before grabbing it from his hand. “I guess one game wouldn’t hurt,” you sighed, handing him your almost finished cup before moving to stand beside Chanhee and Younghoon.

You eyed the cup you wanted your ball to land on, aiming the ball slightly to the left before tossing gently, watching as the ball bounced on the liquid surface of the cup and landed perfectly in the middle row. With a loud cheer you continued to play for the next fifteen minutes till you finished your drink. “Damn!” Younghoon cheered, giving you an impressed expression. “You’re pretty good at this,” he commented, grabbing the ball from the cup with a chuckle.

You shook your head with a small laugh, “no, dude. Jaemin taught me how to throw like that,” you explained. “That explains everything. Soulmates do think alike, huh?” Chanhee laughed, pouring more liquor into his cup. Your heart clenched slightly at those words as Jeno handed you your cup back. “Definitely,” Younghoon agreed with a nod.

“You want to go for another round?” Chanhee asked, filling the cups with more beer to make the game slightly harder. You gulped, finishing your drink before shaking your head, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. “I’m good. I’m going to go get myself more coke, this one tastes kind of funny, though,” you placed your cup on the table before waving your friends off to find your way to the kitchen.

Jeno furrowed his brows, noticing how your words were slightly slurred. “What’s up with her? She looked pretty sad,” Chanhee asked, running a hand through his hair, tossing the ball in his palm to the cup, cursing when he missed inevitably. “What? Haven’t you heard? She and Jaemin aren’t on good terms lately,” Younghoon hissed before giving the boy a smack on the back. “No one for sure knows what happened but people said Jaemin did something real bad to make her that sad,” he added on.

“Excuse me, how was I supposed to know that?” Chanhee retaliated in response. “I don’t go around listening to gossip from the cheerleaders like you do,” he snapped back. Younghoon rolled his eyes at his friend, “here’s the actual tea, though.” he started again, taking a large gulp from his cup. “You know how if you hurt your soulmate, like emotionally, they’d start to feel burns in their mark?” He murmured under his breath.

“Yeah, isn’t it some sort of old tale or something? I mean, come on, your tattoo suddenly burns you because you can’t handle a few harsh words? That’s preposterous,” Chanhee scoffed, tossing another ball towards one of the cups, missing once again. “You don’t know if that’s fake, dude! People are saying how those two kept covering up their marks to hide the burns! And that’s on having a toxic soulmate relationship,” Younghoon exclaimed, nudging his friend playfully.

“Damn, that’s just depressing. I feel bad for them, really,” he replied with a sympathetic tone. Jeno, who was quietly listening to their conversation, was lost in thought. He wanted to shut down the rumors and help his friends, but yet again, he doesn’t know the full story of what went on between the two of you. “Jeno?” his friends call out, snapping the boy out of his train of thoughts. He hummed in response, looking up from the cup he was holding, which happened to be the one you left behind.

“You okay, dude?” Yongbok asked with a raised brow, grabbing a ping pong ball of his own. “What? Oh, yeah, I’m good. Did you notice how funny y/n was acting before she left?” Jeno asked, lifting the cup up to his nose to take a sniff. “No, not really, why?” Younghoon shook his head, furrowing his brows at the boy.

The familiar scent of alcohol hit his senses when he took a small sniff of the cup, making his eyes wide in alarm. “Oh shit,” Jeno cursed, dropping the cup to the floor as he fishes his phone out of his pocket. “What’s wrong?” Chanhee asked, his lips forming a concerned frown. “She drank alcohol, I need to call the others before something happens,” Jeno explained briefly, his thumbs fiddling with his phone.

Meanwhile, you found yourself walking into the backyard. Hyunjin’s parents are quite loaded, so you weren’t that surprised to see how spacious and large it was. “Y/n?” a voice said. You turned your head to see Jaemin sitting on a lounge chair beside the door, a red cup in his hand and a lollipop in the other. “Jaemin?” you replied with a raised brow. “Hey, I didn’t know you were here,” Jaemin smiled, sitting up straight.

“Hyuck dragged me here a while ago,” you explained shortly, examining the backyard. “What are you doing here? I thought you didn’t like parties that much?” you asked, walking closer to him when you realised that you didn’t see his car parked on the sidewalk before you left for the party. “A party from time to time isn’t too bad. Hyunjin said it’ll do me good to relax once in a while,” he chuckled, shooting you a sweet, charming smile.

“You wanna sit down?” he offered, patting the empty lounge chair beside the one he was sitting on. You bit your lip, eyeing him for a moment before mumbling a small ‘okay’ under your breath and sitting down beside him. “Why aren’t you inside with the others?” you asked quietly, your tone almost hushed as you succumb to the serene atmosphere. The loud music almost muffled by the closed door.

“I.. I just wanted some fresh air. The smell of alcohol was getting to me,” he responded almost hesitantly. “You?” he turned to look at you, popping the lollipop into his mouth. “Same as you, I was playing beer pong with Jeno and the others not too long ago,” you smiled, watching how Jaemin’s light hearted expression grew into a concerned one. “You played beer pong with them?” he asked with a low voice, almost in a motherly tone.

You raised your brows in alarm, waving your hands around frantically. “No! I swear it’s not what you think! I didn’t drink anything, I just tossed ping pongs into a few cups! I promise you!” you shook your head vigorously as Jaemin eyed you suspiciously. “You sure?” he asked, leaning forward towards you to see if you were actually lying before giving you a small smile when you gulped. “Okay then, I believe you,” he nodded with a small chuckle, his heart fluttering at how adorable you looked.

You pouted when you saw his amused expression, slumping back against the chair with a huff. He let out a small giggle at your little antics, watching you dramatically sling your leg over the other and turn your head away. “You’re still as dramatic as the last time we hung out,” Jaemin commented, pulling the lollipop out of his mouth. “What’s that supposed to mean?” you frown, jerking your head towards him with an offended tone.

He shook his head, reaching over to pinch your cheek gingerly. “You know very well what I meant,” he giggled, retracting his hand and setting it back on his lap. “You’re always acting dramatic for the sake of making people laugh,” he said, winking as he gave you a knowing look. You chuckled, smacking him on the shoulder playfully. “Shut up, remember that time when I gave you a rock for a gift,” you giggled, smiling brightly at the distant memory.

“You literally saw the rock a couple weeks ago, you know I kept it all this time. Of course I remember, you even stuck a fucking Doraemon sticker onto it for ‘decoration’,” he used his two index and middle fingers to emphasize on the ‘decoration’ word, laughing lightly. “Shut up! I thought it was funny! Clearly, I should’ve taped a picture of my face to it so you’d remember my existence bugging you on a day to day basis,” you joked, laughing along as your mind flashed back to the deadpanned expression Jaemin had when you gave him the rock.

“In my defense, you could’ve gotten me something nice like- Oh I don’t know, a jar of your Mom’s peanut butter cookies? Some homework answers? A fucking hug? But no, you decided to go for a damn rock you found on the streets,” he exclaimed incredulously, waving his hands around to exaggerate at his words.

“I’m unique, Jaemin. You loved that gift! Trust me, when I saw that smooth ass rock I instantly thought of your annoying ass constantly throwing paper planes to my window in hopes of talking to me when you could just knock on the door like a normal person!” you laughed, pushing his shoulder playfully as he pouts at you. His doe eyes glaring daggers at you as he cocked his head to the side in an almost offended way. 

“This says a lot of what you think of me. If you’re unique then I’m unique as well because who the fuck needs to walk to your front door when you can throw paper planes like a hopeless romantic?” Jaemin huffed, puffing his cheeks out as he crossed his arms against his chest. “You should be grateful to have me as a best friend,” he mumbled under his breath, causing you to giggle even more. A small smile reached his lips as he watched you laugh so innocently in front of him, a light laugh eliciting from his own lips. 

Your giggles died down slowly as your bright smile faltered as you gazed up at the night sky, sighing deeply as thoughts rushed through your brain. “I can’t believe this is actually our last year of highschool,” you sighed, tucking your knees to your chest, wrapping your arms around your legs as you leaned your chin on your knees. 

“Yeah,” Jaemin sighed, a frown now forming on his lips as he followed your actions and gazed up at the cloudy sky. “In a couple of months, we’ll be off to college and having more responsibilities laid out on us,” he added with a heavy heart, biting down on the stick of his lollipop to hold himself back from engulfing you in a tight embrace.

“God, it’s so weird. It felt like I just turned fourteen yesterday, you know?” you turned to look at Jaemin with a sad smile, who nodded quietly in agreement. “Time flies so fast,” he mumbled in response, his heart feeling heavy by every word. He was too caught up in his own problems to realise how his school year was coming to an end.

And honestly, Jaemin felt as if he was taking one step further away from you with each passing second. He knew if he couldn’t get you back in his life by graduation, then he would live on not knowing what to do for the rest of his life. He truly didn’t want that, he didn’t want to go to college without you standing by his side.

“Remember when we were still 15? We dreamt about all the things we wanted to do when we get to college?” he asked, wandering his gaze down from the sky to the soles of his sneakers. “I do.” Jaemin turned to see you looking back at him with a sorrowful expression that mirrored his own. “We wanted to go to apply for the same jobs, the same college, live in the same flat. Everything,” you added on with a small smile. “It’s been so long since we had deep conversations like this,” you chuckled. 

It pained both of you to know how you two were getting further and further away from each others’ grasps as time went on. How life couldn’t just stop for a split second to let you two catch up, to let you two talk it out. To let you learn how to let things go and forgive him. But you both knew that was close to impossible. Life was getting into the way of fixing your relationship.

“It’s been so long since we had a long conversation in general, actually,” he chuckled, causing you to giggle, nodding in defeat. “You got me there,” you chuckled, feeling your heart clench slightly at his words before letting out an exasperated sigh, eyes looking back up at the sky.

“God, I just can’t believe it. Soon, we’re going to have jobs, study whatever for college, go out of town and live all on our own. Go down our own separate ways in life. Is this what growing up feels like? If only I could go back to when I was still in elementary school, really. Life was way simpler back then,” you rambled on, your tone getting quieter and quieter till Jaemin could barely hear you speak. 

“I’d give anything to be fourteen again,” you sighed, leaning back against the chair with your arms outstretched beside you, closing your eyes to bask in the comforting atmosphere. Jaemin stared at your content expression, his lips parted ever so slightly as he tried to find the words to say next. “Who said we have to go our separate ways, though?” Jaemin asked in an almost inaudible tone after a pregnant pause.

You hummed in response, opening your eyes slowly to look back at the starry sky. “What did you say?” you murmured, fearing that you misheard him, your heartbeat beginning to pick up its pace. Jaemin took a moment to take a deep breath, mustering up the courage to repeat his words as his heart raced in his ears. “What if..” he gulped, his voice trailing off.

He turned to lean closer to your chair, watching as your eyes widened slightly at the sudden proximity. “What if I don’t want us to go our separate ways?” he asked in a brave tone, his eyes filled with determination and nervousness. You furrowed your brows, your pupils scanned his own as you sat up from your relaxed position, scooting back a little to give you both some space.

“What do you mean by that exactly?” you asked, cocking your head to the side in confusion.

He gulped, feeling his palms getting sweaty as his heart beats rapidly against his chest. “What if I still want to do the things we wanted to do back when we were 14?” he blurted out, pulling out the lollipop from his mouth and placing it in his red cup. “What if I still do want us to live together in the same flat? Go to the same college?” he rambled, catching you off guard with how bold he sounded.

“Jaemin, what? You know very well we-” 

“We what? We stopped talking, so? We can start over and we can rekindle our friendship, right? Come on, we’ve been through thick and thin,” he leaned closer to you, causing your throat to run dry. “Jaemin, you’re getting a little too cl-” you stammered before Jaemin cut you off briefly. “Y/n, we’re soulmates, right?” he whispered, his face coming dangerously close to yours. You tensed up at the word, putting a hand on his chest to try to gently push him away, but for some reason you couldn’t.

You didn’t want to. 

Something inside of you didn’t want you to push him away. Both of your eyes were locked in a trance when you felt Jaemin leaning closer and closer towards you, his head leaning to the side as you felt his breath hit your face gently, one of his hands coming up to lay on your knee for support. Your heart beating erratically in your chest, breaths hitched, eyes half-lidded when you felt the soft surface of his lips brush against your own.

Before Jaemin could actually press his lips against yours to kiss you, you felt your heart clenched tightly against your chest. The memory from the night at his house and the dinner party hitting you like a truck, causing you to use all of your might to shove the boy harshly off of you. He grunted in response, his back hitting the table beside his chair.

Your eyes shut tight as words came rushing through your brain, your heart beating fast and aching like hell against your chest, you clutched your left wrist in your palms, trying to ease down the burning sensation against your chest. You leaned your head down, tears pricking your eyes as you let out small whimpers under your breath.

Jaemin’s frantic apologies turned deaf as your thoughts became messy, all you could focus on was the pain in your chest and the flashbacks coursing through your brain. Your vision blurred as tears cascaded down your cheeks, small whimpers turned into small cries. Your thoughts became loud, you wanted to cup your ears in an attempt to shut them out but the pain in your left wrist was too great for you to pull away for even a second.

“I’m sick and tired of being constantly reminded that I’m bound to be soulmates with someone I didn’t choose to love.”

“I’m sick and tired of you constantly forcing me and telling me things just because we have the same stupid mark! You don’t know what it’s like when people tell you how to feel!”

“It’s exhausting to be with someone who’s so whiny and pushy. No matter how many times I fucking turn you down as gently as possible you’re stubborn self couldn’t see how annoying this whole thing is.”

It felt like hell.

“I-I’m so so sorry! I don’t know what came over me, oh god, what have I done? Fuck,” he rambled to himself, panic rising up his body as he apologizes repeatedly, oblivious to how much pain your were in. “God, I shouldn’t have done that. I-I’m so so sorry, I swear I just couldn’t take it anymore. I just- Y/n?” he looked up to see you clutching your wrist against your chest, breathing heavily to stifle your soft cries.

“Y/n? Are you okay?” Jaemin asked, his tone becoming worried and more panicked. He could feel his heart shattering into pieces when he saw your frozen state. You were trembling in your seat, your knees tucked against your chest as you held your left wrist protectively against you, small cries and whimpers eliciting from your mouth. “Y/n, hey, I’m so sorry for getting into your personal space like that, I really really am I-”

“Jaemin, I’m sorry,” you whimpered out, taking Jaemin aback. He watched as tears streamed down your face like a leaking tap as you mumbled small (almost inaudible) apologies under your breath. “I’m so so sorry, Jaemin,” you cried out, your voice breaking as sobs came out of your throat. “I didn’t mean to annoy you, I didn’t mean to ruin our friendship, I didn’t mean to do anything bad,” you cried, sniffling back your tears as words echoed in your mind repeatedly like a big cave.

“Anyways, I see you two are still getting along well. Tell me, Y/N, has my son finally accepted your undying love for him?”

“It hurts, it hurts, it really fucking hurts,” your breathing became unsteady as you gripped your wrist tighter, clenching your teeth to keep yourself from crying out. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. I just wanted to have a soulmate who loves me back.” 

Jaemin froze in his spot, his eyes going wide and red. His own heart was aching and his own tattoo mark started burning against his skin, but it was nothing compared to the pain he was feeling as he watched you break down in front of him. His mind screamed at him to comfort you, to hold you, to remove your pain away, anything to help you. But his body refused to move, he couldn’t move.

Does this always happen behind closed doors? Did you feel this much pain and guilt whenever he wasn’t looking for the past two years? Is this what made Donghyuck and Jeno glare at him with disappointed looks whenever he talked crap behind your back? 

He felt sick to his stomach, guilt swallowing him up whole as memories of the warm smile you would always give him whenever he was in your line of vision was almost too painful to look at. Why were you willing to go through so much pain just for him? Just for someone who never treated you in the way you deserved? 

It took him all this time to realise that you were constantly putting up a cheerful facade to convince everyone how you were determined to get Jaemin to fall for you, when really, you were just trying to convince yourself. He now realised why you said no to him. It did look pretty ominous for him to just show up two months after completely cutting off contact. God, if he were you, he never would’ve forgiven himself for all this.

It reminded him of the first time he felt his heart ache. How intense the pain was, so intense that he couldn’t even move from his spot. He felt his fingers twitch at his sides when he realised your tattoo mark was burning you. He heard his own heartbeat in his ears as he hesitantly leaned forward to you, his hands reaching out to hold you.

Your heart was ready to burst in your ribcage, you could practically feel burn marks forming against your wrist. Your heart screaming and pleading for the pain to stop but the voices in your head didn’t want to shut up. The voices- no, Jaemin’s voice inside your head was making the pain more unbearable by each passing second.

  “I’m sick and tired of you not leaving me alone. I don’t like you like that, and I never fucking will. Get that through your thick skull, y/n.”

“Y/N.” a muffled voice called out.

 “I mean it, y/n.”

“Y/N!” 

You felt your left wrist being tugged out of your grip, a warm figure leaning close against your own, engulfing you in a tight embrace. You opened your eyes wide, feeling your breath hitch. It took you a second to realise that Jaemin was hugging you as tight as he could, his arm was wrapped around your shaking frame. His head was tucked in the crook of your neck, nuzzling against your skin comfortingly.

His thumb managed to slip into the cuffs of your sweater, softly caressing and soothing the burning pain, running the pad over the burnt skin and your redden tattoo mark. The sweet scent of his cologne hits your senses, calming you down almost instantly. The voices in your head disappeared as if they were shadows and Jaemin was your light in the dark. 

“I’m sorry,” you mumbled weakly, feeling Jaemin pull away slightly. “I’m sorry for annoying you so much back then,” you whispered, basking in the feeling of Jaemin’s gentle hold on your wrist tightening, his arm that was previously around your waist had been retracted to his side. “I know I’m an annoying person in general but I didn’t mean to make you feel uncomfortable all this time, I swear,” you used your free hand to wipe your tears off.

Jaemin smiled softly at you but before he could say anything, the universe decided to break into the comforting silence between you two.

“Y/N!” 

You and Jaemin turned with wide eyes to see Renjun had opened the door widely, a worried expression spread across his face. Renjun’s pupils flickered from your teary eyes to Jaemin’s hold on you, his mind immediately going places before blood boils in his veins. “Na Jaemin, what the fuck are you doing to her?” he exclaimed, stomping over to the two of you. 

“Renjun, calm down!” Jeno and Hyuck suddenly came into the scene, running with their phones in hand. “Oh shit,” Hyuck cursed, his eyes going wide when he realised they must’ve interrupted something. “What the fuck happened here?” Jeno exclaimed, feeling the tension in the air as they came up to the both of you.

Renjun pulled you off of Jaemin gently, “what were you doing to her?” he glared at the poor boy who gaped at him, not knowing what to respond. “Renjun, I-” you started before Renjun gently pushed you to Jeno and Hyuck’s grip, stumbling at your feet, you felt Jeno grip on your arm to help you stand up straight. Your mind spun as you tried to process what was happening.

“I said, what the fuck were you doing to y/n?!” Renjun grasped Jaemin by the collar of his shirt, pulling him up as he glared down at the younger boy almost menacingly. “We weren’t doing anything,” Jaemin shot back, pushing Renjun’s hands off of him as he stood up from the lounge chair with a deep frown on his lips.

“Really? Then why is she crying, huh? You must’ve done something to her,” Renjun growled, pointing an accusatory finger at the boy, who raised his brows in surprise. “I wouldn’t be surprised if you were the one who spiked her drink,” he spat, his eyes filled with anger and disgust towards the boy who he once called a friend.

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” Jaemin yelled, his blood boiling at how Renjun could accuse him of doing such a thing. Why the hell would he say something like that? “Jaemin,” Jeno called out in a strict tone, causing the two boys to turn to him. “Y/n’s drink was spiked.”

You and Jaemin’s eyes widened at his words, mouth gaping. “What? But I’m fine,” you said, shaking Jeno’s hold off of your elbow before feeling weak at the knees. “She was fine a while ago?” Jaemin stuttered out, his heart dropping to his stomach when he realised if you didn’t push him away, he would’ve kissed you while you were intoxicated.

“Someone poured in some spiked alcohol while we weren’t looking, I don’t know who but I saw some white stuff in her cup,” Jeno explained, extending his hand to help you get up as you leaned against Hyuck. You felt dizzy, nauseous and hazy. Whatever you were drinking must’ve started kicking in now.

Oh god, why does this have to happen now?

Why now? Why you?

“Y/n, I-” Jaemin took a step closer to you before Renjun tugged him back by the fabric of his jacket. “You’re not going anywhere, you asshole!” he barked, the strong grip he had on his shirt causing Jaemin to stumble back on his feet, almost falling in the process. “Cut it out, Huang, I need to make sure if she’s okay-” 

“No you’re not! I saw you try to kiss her, you’re not getting even an inch closer to her, you prick!” Renjun grunted when he shoved Jaemin back when he tried to push through the smaller boy to get to you. “I think we should get you inside to sober up,” Hyuck mumbled to your hazy state, watching you nod ever so slightly as you felt sick to your stomach. Renjun and Jaemin’s argument fell deaf to your ears, everything was spinning, your vision blurred and your mind pounded.

As Hyuck and Jeno dragged you back inside to get you to a quieter environment, Jaemin and Renjun continued to argue. “Fuck off, Huang! I need to check if my soulmate is alright,” Jaemin hissed at the shorter boy, shoving him backwards before turning around to go after you. “You heartless monster!” Renjun called out, causing Jaemin to stop in his tracks.

“How could you call yourself her soulmate after all the things you did? Do you have any idea how much she’s cried over you?!” Renjun gritted his teeth, fists clenched at his sides as he took a few steps closer to Jaemin. Jaemin stopped in his tracks, his heart pounding against his chest as he listened to the other boy’s words clearly.

“Y/n deserves to be happy, you sick bastard! She deserves to actually be happy, even if it means getting you away from her, you should be fucking ashamed of yourself!” Renjun exclaimed, knowing his words finally got through him. He couldn’t take it any longer, he was tired of seeing you cry over Jaemin everyday, he was tired of you putting up with so much pain just to move on from him.

He knew that you were moving on for the sake of Jaemin’s own happiness, not yours. So Jaemin doesn’t have to feel uncomfortable standing next to you, so that Jaemin doesn’t have to put up with anyone saying how he should be more considerate of having a soulmate like you. So you two could stop feeling so bad whenever your friends, your parents, your family would bring up the soulmate topic.

He was tired of seeing Jaemin so selfish all the time. It was time for him to get a taste of his own damn medicine, even if it meant saying what he promised he wouldn’t tell. 

“You think I don’t know about that Renjun? You think I don’t know how much pain she’s been through because of me?” Jaemin snapped back, his fists clenched as he trembled, his guilt swallowing him up whole as he continued to speak. “You don’t think I’m tired of her looking at me with a fake smile just to convince me that she didn’t mind me rejecting her all the time? You don’t think I feel bad for her?”

Jaemin turned to face the boy who held a stone cold expression, he walked up to Renjun with a cold glare. “I don’t know if you know but lately, I’ve been trying to compensate for all the things I did in the past two years. I want to make things up so neither of us can be in pain anymore, y/n always wanted a soulmate who would shower her with countless love and affection. She deserves at least that,” Jaemin spat out, his heart screaming at him to let all of his pain out.

 “Oh so you’re just doing this just to repent for your sins. You don’t actually like her, huh? That really says alot about you, Na Jaemin,” Renjun crossed his arms with a disappointed shake of his head. Jaemin jerked his head back, eyes wide at his statement, shaking his head vigorously. “No! She’s my best friend, of course I love her!” Jaemin couldn’t stop the words from exiting his mouth.

He never said he loved you before. So why now? Why didn’t he say it when you needed it?

Did he love you? Or was he saying it just to prove a point? 

What was wrong with him? How did things become this messy?

“Sure, if you loved her then why the fuck did you do it?” Renjun resisted the urge to punch Jaemin across the face, swallowing down his nervousness as he finally spoke out what needed to be said. He knew you’d probably won’t forgive him if you found out he was the one who spilled this to Jaemin but at this point, if it gets Jaemin to leave you alone so you can live your life in peace, then so be it.

“Do what?” Jaemin asked, his eyes glaring daggers at the boy. “Why the fuck did you have to break her grandmother’s music box, you inconsiderate bastard!?” Renjun yelled out, causing Jaemin to tense up. His eyes going wide at the older boy’s words as silence finally broke between them, the atmosphere becoming thick.

“What are you talking about?” Jaemin managed to blurt out, his blood running cold when he remembered the wooden pieces of your music box hidden in a box underneath his bed. “Remember the music box she gave you at that dinner party? Yeah, that music box was the last gift her grandmother gave her before she passed away,” he hissed, watching as the blood drained from Jaemin’s face.

Jaemin’s heart dropped, his mind went blank as his throat ran dry. “What?” he said, flabbergasted by this new fact. “Yeah, why did you think she made a big deal out of it in the first place, huh? You’re so fucking sick, I can’t believe you didn’t know that. Didn’t you just say she was your best friend?” Renjun raised his fist to hit Jaemin before pausing, watching as how the boy stood in shock, trying to process his own thoughts.

Renjun’s eyes soften at this. After all, Jaemin was one of his closest friends before this whole mess started. When you told Renjun about how Jaemin destroyed the last gift your grandmother gave you, he was beyond livid. He wanted to kick Jaemin to the curb and make him beg for forgiveness but you insisted that he was just probably stressed and he didn’t mean to break it.

But he remembered judging by how broken you looked back then, it was as if you were saying that to reassure yourself rather than him. He remembered how you made him promise not to talk about this to Jaemin. You didn’t know if Jaemin knew about the previous owner of the music box, you doubt that he did. But in case he didn’t, you didn’t want him to feel guilty for it. After all, it did made you come to your senses that you were making him hate you with every step you made.

Renjun sighed, lowering his fist before moving to bump his shoulder harshly against Jaemin’s with a scowl spread across his face. “If you really do love her, then stop hurting her,” he mumbled under his breath before leaving a distressed Jaemin behind in the backyard all by himself. 

Jaemin stood there frozen for a couple of minutes, hearing his heart beat getting faster and faster, his ears ringing loudly as his thoughts became messier. Guilt filled his stomach even more with the new information, tears lining his vision as he stared into nothingness. He sat back down on the lounge chair, running a hand through his hair and gripping it tightly.

He tried to keep his breathing stable as he fought the urge to let out a sob, his other hand clutching his knees as tears finally dropped from his eyes. Small water droplets stained his jeans as the hand that was in his hair came down to cover his face, sighing deeply before he lets out a loud-

“FUCK!”

“Y/n?” Jaemin called out, poking his head around the corner to see you sitting on the floor all alone. 15 year old Jaemin just arrived at the hospital with his parents with a bouquet of flowers for your grandmother, who was on her deathbed. It was a long week, especially for you.

Your grandmother was in the terminal stages of cancer. The doctor said she didn’t have much time left so he told your family that it’s best to start saying your goodbyes considering she has less than two months left to live. Jaemin knew how much your grandmother meant to you. After all, she was one of the nicest people he’s ever known. 

She loved him and treated him as if he was her own grandson, despite the fact that she firmly believed that you and him were destined to get married. She often told him funny stories, good advice on life and took pictures of the two of you whenever you were together. 

The thought of never seeing your grandmother again made his own heart heavy, but he couldn’t imagine the pain you were going through, yourself. Ever since your grandmother was hospitalized, you haven’t been in the best of moods. You always checked your phone in case you got a call from the hospital or in hopes that you got news that your grandmother was getting better.

But of course, you never did. And it killed Jaemin to see that it was killing you from the inside.

When Jaemin arrived at the hospital with his parents to say their own goodbyes, he noticed that you weren’t in the room with the rest of your family. Being the good best friend that he was, he decided to leave the room when no one was looking to try to find you.

You hated the hospital. It’s where a lot of lives are brought in and out of this world. The smell of hand sanitizers and disinfectants were almost too overwhelming as he ventured down the empty white halls. Sooner or later, he found you all crawled up in the corner at the end of an empty hall.

You were sitting down, your legs pushed against your chest, your arms wrapped around your legs as you buried your face into your knees. Jaemin felt small needles piercing his heart when he heard your soft cries echoing the empty room as his eyes wandered to the brightly decorated box placed right beside you.

“Hey, y/n,” he spoke in a soft, almost hushed tone. You let out a small hum, sniffling afterwards as Jaemin took small steps towards you. “How are you holding up?” he asked once again, squatting down in front of your crying figure. “Bad,” you whimpered, your voice breaking as you spoke.

Jaemin bit his lip nervously, unsure of what to do to make you feel better. “Is there anything I can do to make you feel better?” he whispered, bringing his hands up to his knees as he watched you attempt to keep your cries down so as to not disturb the other patients. He sighed when he saw you shake your head, your hair swishing to the side cutely at the gesture.

He chuckled sadly, nodding slightly before realising that you couldn’t see him. “Really? Not even a drink or a pastry? I promise I’ll pay if you want something from the cafeteria,” he offered once again before earning another shake of your head. “Okay,” he muttered, biting back a small sigh before scooting closer to you.

You heard him move to sit beside you on the floor, copying your position as his legs tucked against his chest, arms wrapping around them as he held the bouquet in his hands. You looked up at him, ignoring the fact that you probably looked like a huge mess with tears and snot dripping down your face. But fortunately for you, Jaemin didn’t seem to mind.

He shot you a sweet comforting smile. “Hey,” he said, watching as you wipe your face with the sleeves of the sweater you were wearing. “You want to talk about it?” he asked rather hesitantly, scooting closer towards you so your shoulders were touching. You sniffed, feeling your eyes get watery again before furiously wiping your tears away, your face scrunched up as you try to keep yourself from screaming out in pain.

You shook your head once again, sobs eliciting from your mouth as you continued to cry. Jaemin nodded, his heart aching even more as he watched you break down in front of him. He felt his hands twitched as he continued to listen to your soft sobs, desperately trying to think of something to make you feel better. 

He turned his head to you, his eyes boring into your figure. He kissed his teeth, sucking his lips in for a brief moment before mumbling a small ‘screw it!’ under his breath. He lifted his arm, wrapping it around your shoulders before gently pushing you to lean against him. His hand came up to your head, gesturing you to lay on his shoulder.

You jumped at the sudden contact, turning your head up to look at him with confusion. Eyes widening slightly when you saw that Jaemin was already looking back at you with half lidded eyes, exhaustion glossing over his pupils as he shot you a small smile. You wanted to ask him why he was here? When did he get here? How did he find you? But your heart was aching too much for you to mind it. 

You sniffed before leaning your head back down on his shoulder, basking in the comforting silence between you as you continued to cry by his side, letting him stay right beside you. His hand that was on your head was now caressing your hair gently, his head moving to lay on top of yours as he closed his eyes in content.

“She can’t leave yet, Jaemin,” you muttered against the fabric of his shirt. “She can’t leave yet. I want her to see me with my soulmate tattoo on my birthday next year. I want to see how happy she’d be when I tell her I found my soulmate. I want her to tell me stories of how she met grandpa again-” you started sobbing against his shirt, wiping the snot off of your nose.

Jaemin frowned, pulling you tighter against him when he felt your tears soak through the fabric of his shirt. He didn’t mind though, as long as you feel better at the end he was willing to sacrifice all his shirts for your tears.

You both sat there for what felt like hours, eventually falling asleep together side by side on the floor. But sooner or later, one of your aunts found and woke the two of you up, saying how your grandma wanted to talk to Jaemin. 

“Jaemin?” you questioned, rubbing the sleep out of your puffy eyes as you stood up with him. “Yeah, she said she had something important to give him,” your aunt nodded, giving the two of you a heavy smile as the three of your walked back to your grandmother’s hospital room. “Something to give me? But why?” he asked, turning to you with a perplexed expression.

You shrugged weakly, patting his shoulder. “I bet it’s to give you a jar of her cookies or something. Maybe to tell you the details of our supposed marriage later on, who knows,” you chuckled, cringing when you heard your voice crack at the end as you tried to hold back a sob. 

“I mean, she gave me a goodbye present as well,” you said, gesturing to the bright box in your hand. “What did she give you?” he asked, looking down at the box. You shrugged, “some old stuff Grandpa got her on their first date, I guess,” you bit your lip as you fought the urge to cry again. ‘This really is a goodbye,’ he thought to himself.

Jaemin gulped, feeling his heart ache at the thought of never eating your grandmother’s special cookies after this. A lump gathered in his throat when he realised he won’t get to visit your grandmother after this.

No more playing around and listening to her life stories. No more eating her famous peanut butter cookies whenever he visits her home. No more getting your picture taken during the most random of moments and angles.

Jaemin bit his lip before knocking on the door, opening it with the other to poke his head in the room to see your grandmother talking to his teary-eyed parents. He felt his heart drop to the pit of his stomach when he saw your grandmother on her deathbed. Her skin almost pale as snow, body laying weakly on the white hospital bed as the heart monitor beeped so eerily every second.

“There he is!” your grandmother exclaimed, lifting her hands up with such enthusiasm that you could hardly believe that she was on the brink of life and death. “Jaeminie! How are you, my lovely boy! My my, you’ve grown so big! It’s been- what? Three months since I saw you?” 

It was at that moment, Jaemin realised how much you resemble your grandmother. How you both managed to bring light and laughter even at the hardest times, even when you weren’t in the best condition. He shook his head out of his thoughts before his mind could wander to places he didn’t want to go.

“Hi, grandma,” he let out a forced smile, trying to ease the tension as he avoided his parent’s sadden expression. “So you said you wanted to talk to me?” he asked as he came up closer to her, sitting on the empty chair beside his parents, wiping his sweaty palms on his jeans as he gulped silently.

She hummed and nodded, reaching over to the box placed on the table beside her bed, letting out a soft grunt. “Indeed. But before that, let me give you some presents first! I am not going to throw away the tradition of me giving random gifts to my grandbabies whenever I see them whether I’m sick or not,” she said, placing the brightly decorated box on Jaemin’s lap.

Jaemin felt his chest ache at the thought of your grandmother thinking of him as her own grandchild despite only being your childhood best friend. “You really didn’t have to,” he sighed, shaking his head up at her with a sad smile. “Oh nonsense! You’re part of the family, you deserve a gift as well before I go!” 

Jaemin couldn’t figure out for the life of him how she could act so casually when everyone around her is mourning and sorrowful. After all, she wasn’t going to stay in this world for much longer, how was she so cheerful in front of so many people?

“Now, don’t give me that look! Go on! Open it! I’d like to take one last picture of my future grandson-in-law when he opens my last gift to him!” she gingerly reached over to the camera beside her frame. He chuckled slightly, pulling on the ribbon wrapped around the box ever so gently, pulling the lid off of the box before his jaw dropped and his eyes went wide.

There was a camera flash, signalling that your grandmother had taken a picture of his reaction.

She laughed, “you’re always so dramatic, son.” 

Inside the box was a thick photo book that appeared to be made by hand. The pages were sewn together with brown thread and the hardcover of the book  had a picture of you and Jaemin on the day you first met when you two were merely toddlers. “I-Is this?” he stammered, he couldn’t find the words to express how he felt at that moment.

“Yep, a big photo book filled with all the pictures I took of the two of you ever since you two were still babies. I got your parents to send me a few pictures to complete the whole book, though,” she explained as she examined the result of the photo she took. Jaemin took the photo book out of the box, opening it gently with his hands in awe.

He felt a smile spread across his cheeks when he flipped through the pages as memories came flooding through his thoughts. “I see you like my gift,” your grandmother smirked, crossing her arms. He looked up from the book, nodding before closing the book and placing it gently back into the box. “Of course! I love all of your gifts, grandma!” he smiled.

“That’s good to hear,” she nodded with a heavy sigh before her expression grew dark slightly. “Jaemin. I don’t know if you know but my condition isn’t getting any better,” she started, her tone growing more serious and strict, her hands gripping on the white blanket draped over her lap. “This might be the last time I see you,” she sighed.

“And I just want you to know. Even if something happens to me. Even if you and y/n have some kind of an argument. Even if the two of you don’t end up being soulmates like I always hope you would. Please look after Y/n.” 

Jaemin felt his heart stop at the mention of you, gulping nervously. “You know Y/n yourself. You know how clumsy she is and how she puts others before herself. Therefore I’m trusting you, young man, to look after my granddaughter no matter what happens. Okay?” she stared at Jaemin so intensely, a sad smile forming on her lips as her cheerful demeanor faltered.

Jaemin gulped, nodding in determination as he gripped the box tightly in his hands before taking a deep breath.

“Okay.”

“Y/n!” Jaemin called out.

You turned to see Jaemin running up to you with wide eyes. You felt your heart race at the sight of him, eyes widening as you quickly shove your book into your locker. You slammed your locker shut before sprinting away, slinging your bag over your shoulder with your Biology textbook in hand. 

“Y/n, wait! We need to talk!” he exclaimed, chasing after you down the halls, avoiding the eyes and whispers around you. “Shit, where’s Renjun when I need him?” you muttered to yourself as you turned around the corner, almost slipping across the wet floor in the process. 

Unfortunately for you, Renjun had a meeting with the principal regarding the art club, leaving you all alone for the next half an hour. You found yourself running towards the entrance of the library, earning a distant ‘no running in the library!’ from the old librarian as you sprinted to the novel section.

You panted when you looked back, watching the entrance of the library with the corner of your eyes. You saw Jaemin burst through the door, earning a soft scolding a second later. You watched him take heavy breaths as he came up to the librarian with a worried expression, you assumed he was probably asking if she saw you coming here.

You leaned against the bookshelf, letting out a small sigh, rubbing your temples in distress. It’s been two days since the whole incident at the party. Despite being intoxicated, you remembered the events that happened clear as day. You remembered taking a sip of what was supposed to be cola, you remembered how addicting it tasted at that moment that you couldn’t help but drink more.

You remembered playing beer pong with Jeno and his friends. You remembered seeing Jaemin in Hyunjin’s backyard with his usual charming smile stretched across his face. The beautiful night sky with stars scattered all over. The close proximity between you as well as Jaemin’s fresh cologne filling your senses.

The exhilarating feeling that is being touched by your soulmate. The feeling of your hearts combining. How your breath hitched when Jaemin’s lips grazed your own, how your heartbeat was so fast you thought it was about to explode. How you never wanted the feeling to end. 

How the universe tore the two of you apart in a second. 

You remembered the flashbacks that occurred to you that night, how you shoved Jaemin away. The feeling of your heart being crushed to pieces over and over again, the excruciating pain in your left wrist. You couldn’t remember how it stopped though. You did remember the feeling of Jaemin embracing you to help comfort you.

You remembered his hair tickling your neck, his padded thumb caressing your left wrist. How your heart soared at his soft touch, the way he held you against him as if you were as fragile as a rare jewel he found in a deep cave. Your head ached at the thought of it. It was too good to be true.

‘He was probably being nice,’ you thought to yourself bitterly, closing your eyes for a brief moment before shooting them open at the sudden tight grip on your shoulder. “Y/n, we really need to talk,” Jaemin spoke from behind you, causing you to push his hand away harshly. “What is there to talk about exactly, Jaemin?” you asked, feeling your figure tense up at the sight of him.

“You know very well what,” he furrowed his brows, grabbing your hand to keep you from going anywhere. You gulped, knowing Jaemin wasn’t going to leave you alone until you talked. “What?” you sighed, rubbing your face with your free hand, letting Jaemin hold the other in his as you ignored the heart lightening feeling that it brought.

Jaemin inhaled deeply. closing his eyes for a brief moment before opening them to look at his tight grip on your hand. “Why didn’t you tell me that the music box you gave me was the gift your grandmother gave you before-” 

“How did you know about that, Jaemin?” you gasped, eyes blowing wide. “Why didn’t you tell me?” He ignored your question, looking up at you with such sadness in his eyes that you could feel your own heart ache at the sight. You frowned, attempting to tug your hand out of his hold. 

“Jaemin let go,” you mumbled. “No, why didn’t you tell me? Why did you give me such an important thing anyway? Why would you give away something so special and valuable? I don’t understand, I’m just-” he rambled on, his grip getting tighter on your hand.

“Let go, Jaemin!” 

“No, tell me why!” 

“You really want to know?” you frowned, pulling your hand out of his so harshly it took Jaemin aback at the sudden force. You clenched your fists by your side, feeling your heart ache again. “You really want to know, Na Jaemin?” you spat watching as Jaemin gulped in front of you. “God,” you bit your lip, leaning your head up when you feel your eyes begin to water.

“I know this might be a shitty reason but before that dinner party, I was already on the brink of breaking and leaving you be. I was tired of feeling like shit all the time, I was tired of seeing the both of us unhappy all the time whenever I stood beside you,” you raised your forearm over your eyes, furiously wiping your tears away.

“I just figured,” you paused, swallowing down a sob when you realized the heartache you endured for the past two years was finally catching up to you. “If my soulmate can’t make me happy like the stories Grandma told me. Then maybe-at least I thought,” you sniffed your tears back, pulling your arm down to lay by your side almost lifelessly. 

“I thought, if I made him happy, then we both can be happy together. Maybe then we wouldn’t have to feel upset anymore. But it didn’t work and I honestly don’t see a reason to keep doing it if it’s going to make you even more unhappy,” you whimpered, wiping your tears away before walking away from a hurt Jaemin behind at the novel section of the library.

Jaemin felt his own heart ache at your words, clenching his fists when he felt the familiar stinging sensation against the skin of his left wrist. Realising how fucked up the situation became with every step he takes, realising how he didn’t know what to do to heal the both of you. To make the two of you go back to when things were normal.

He realised he heard you call out his name desperately too many times, and yet, he didn’t care. Now that you stopped calling his name, he has no one else to turn to other than the hollow shell of your old self. But he knew he wouldn’t let you go when you were finally willing to walk away from him.

“I-Is it really too late for me?” he mumbled quietly to himself before a tear trickled down his cheek. 

T A G L I S T : @candiednickles​ @itlittlefangirl​ @cherrym4rk​ @gotoartistprofile @d-nghyck​ @kingjvngins​ @aconeptun​ @chaeshii @lixseu​ @morks-watermelon​ @12am-musings​ @cherrystay​ @lowkeyviv​ @btm-taeyong​ @gothmingguk​ @luvlyjaemin​ @cowward​ @smileyyuta​ @cakelyn @uncovermenow666 @comically-sleep-deprived​ @wtfhaechan​ @xcherrybbyx​ @wishing–butterfly​ @wordsgodeep​ @seeing-dreams​ @sweetmoonlight9​ @chwenchew​ @stuckwithhyuck​

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[venusskies-writing]

Atsumu x reader

(Gender neutral pronouns used)

Title: Just this once...or maybe not

Synopsis: your best friend liked to party, a lot, and each night he was caught making out in a corner with a new girl, but she would always leave him at some point because he got to drunk. It was always your job to take him home, you never kissed him, never took advantage of his drunken state, but tonight, you let it all slip away. And perhaps he liked that kiss a little more than you thought

You sighed as you watched Atsumu take some random girl to the back of this strangers house to probably try and hook up with.

It always bothered you when he did that. You couldn't help but to be envious of the girl with the pretty brown hair and cherry colored lips, and eyelashes a little to long to be considered real, but were.

Turning away, you took another shot of your cheap alcohol and walked outside. You gazed at the stars as people came and went, guys, girls, and they's trying to talk to you.

The moon and stars always seemed so peaceful to look at when your heart raced a little too much, and your lunges started to close in on you, and every thought that you had was to escape and run away.

But that never happened.

You always came back to reality to untangle your friend from whatever petty argument he got himself into with the pretty girl.

Walking back inside, you see Atsumu sitting on the couch with his head thrown back and arms spread out on either side of him. His eyes were closed as he muttered curses to himself.

You stood in front of him and put your hands on your hips. "Hey loser. C'mon, let's get going." He blinked one eye open and sighed.

He ruffled his blonde hair that was obviously dyed and picked up his coat. He glanced at you with his honey colored eyes and looked away.

You rolled yours and lead the way to the front of the house, not bothering to say anything because there was nothing to say.

Atsumu brushed passed you and started walking down the left of the street before hearing your laughter. He turned around and saw you pointing to the right.

"My cars this way dumbass. Or do you need me to carry you because your dumb?" You said mockingly.

He pouted but then smirked. "Can you even carry me with those tiny arms?" I smirked back and crossed my 'tiny arms'.

"No, but I could still get more than you and your drunken ass ever could." It was halfway true. But the only guy you want was him.

He scoffed and walked over to you. He raised his finger to point at you but dropped it afterwards, not finding a witty comeback to that.

You grinned and punched his shoulder lightly. "I'm just playing. Let's get you home before Osamu starts blowing up our phones trying to find you." Atsumu nodded his head and matched your pace.

The two of you quickly found your car, seeing as it was only around the corner of the party, and got in.

Atsumu struggled to get the seat belt on, so you did it for him. "I'm not a baby. I don't need your help." Again, he pouted.

"Mm, that may be true, but you act like one." You flicked his nose and started the car.

The ride to the Miya house was peaceful, except until Atsumu had to throw up on the way.

Y'all pulled into a gas station where he immediately jumped out and started spewing up all the alcohol from that night.

"I'll be right back. Gonna go get you some pain meds and water." He stood up fast and looked at you with wide eyes.

"We getting drugs?" He seemed a little happy at the thought. "Uh, yeah. It's not any of the hard stuff, just some stuff for when your head hurts you in the morning." Once more, he pouted and leaned against the car.

"Your no fun. Back in high school we use to smoke pot all the time with the team. Why'd you change?"

It wasn't a hard question, but definitely not something you like to bring up. You sighed and looked away. "We've gone over this a million times 'Sumu, I stopped because we got caught. And it was a good thing I did to because, I wouldn't have gotten that art scholarship."

You could see the wheels turning in his head before he finally spoke. And it was something you would never thought you would hear from him.

"I was told it was because you were in love with me and wanted to be where I was." All of your breath was knocked out of you as you stood there staring at him.

Inhaling a huge breath of air, you looked away. "I need to get some things real quick." You walked away after that.

You returned 15 minutes later and finally headed your way. It was while you were at a stop light did you look over at Atsumu.

He had fallen asleep and had his mouth hanging open. There was a slight line of drool going down his chin which you smiled at.

You sped away from the light when it turned green, and turned the corner to the two brothers home.

Osamu was out waiting on the porch for the two of you when you pulled up. You turned your car off and looked at the sleeping blonde. You slowly wiped his bangs out of his face and touched the back of your hand to his face.

Pulling away, you opened your door and got out. Walking around, Osamu opened the door and pulled his brother out. You walked the two up to the door and opened it for them.

It went like that as Osamu brought him to his twins room. There, he propped his brother in his bed and looked at you.

"I don't know how you deal with him. He's just a plain mess to me." You smiled and looked at him with a look in your eyes that he couldn't quite place.

"I guess that's what you do when your in love."

That's what's in your eyes. Love.

It made him happy to see someone committed to staying with his brother other than for his looks.

He shook his head and smiled at you. Osamu left the two of you alone as you sat beside Atsumu.

Looking at him, you couldn't help but feel the sudden urge to kiss him. You looked put the door to see if Osamu was still there, then back at 'Sumu.

It's not like anyone would know.

So you leaned down, and lightly grazed your lips against his. You pulled back right afterwards and blushed slightly.

You stood up and wiped your pants down before walking away. Well, almost.

"You just gonna kiss me and leave? Now that's cold, even for you." You froze up for the second time that night.

The light pitter patter of footsteps was heard behind you before they stopped. Atsumu leaned across your shoulder and closed the door quietly, not wanting his brother to disturb you two.

Your breath was held as he cornered you against the door. Both of his arms placed on either side of your head. You looked away with a blush on your face, scared to see what kind of look he had.

He chuckled slightly, his minty breath tainted with the bitter smell of alcohol.

A hand picked your chin up and made you look at him. "When you kiss someone, it's usually 'cause you like 'em. So I'm taken that as your way of saying you-"

You cut him off with your lips against his. He staggered backwards before catching himself and returning the kiss.

It was sloppy, not at all romantic, but you had finally kissed him properly.

When you pulled away, a small blush had settled on both your cheeks. You glanced at your feet and then back at him. Atsumu panted slightly as he prossessed what you had just done.

Suddenly, a smirk that wasn't flirty or mean, just a smirk, was on his face. He leaned his forehead against yours and looked at you. "How long you've been wantin' to do that?"

You smiled and steppes back. "Since I've met you." He smiled at that. His eyes that looked like honey that ran with gold, sparkled brightly.

"Well than, if you wanted to kiss me for so long, I guess we got some makin' up to do."

@penguino666

[bl--ankhaeji]

The Get Together (Jeno)

Pairing - Non-idol*Lee Jeno x FemaleBlack*Reader, College au

Genre - smut, fluff

Warning - sexual content, enemies to lovers, slight praisekink, pretty explicit language

W.count - 5.4k

Sneak peek-“H-hold up,” I slightly push him off, “Let’s get this straight, just because we’re about to fuck does not mean that I like you now. It just means that I need some dick and you’re the only one around at this very second, ok.” I say in between breaths.

 “Ok, whatever you say.” He states smugly

 “Fuck you.”

“Oh please believe baby, you’re about to do just that.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Lee Jeno, the most infuriating, egotistic, frown-inducing asshole was here, and it had me questioning why the fuck I was also in attendance. Let me start from the beginning. I was just a girl suckered into coming to a get together between my group of friends, the starting girls volleyball team, and his group of friends, the starting boys basketball team. This had already been planned for a while now, and because we were busy with preparing for the semi-finals it had been postponed for a month and ever since the beginning I knew I didn’t want to go just because of him. 

“Come onn y/n, pleasseee just for me this one time pleassee. I know you and Jeno have this unadulterated hatred against each other but I want to hang out with them because they seem like cool people.” My best friend and blocker, Joy, stated whilst violently shaking me. 

“No Joy, I’ve already made up my mind, I will not go and that’s final,” I rolled my eyes. “Also don’t act like you want to go to hang out with everyone, we all know you just want to get closer to Chenle, you’re not fooling anyone.” 

“Yea Joy, we all know you have a crush on him, so I agree with y/n on this one.” At that Joy became flustered whilst fixing a pout on her face. 

“Buttt y/n I also agree with Joy, I really want to go, and while you do hate Jeno you don’t hate us so do this for us please.” Chungha, the decoy, stated while tightening her ponytail. 

“Yea Cap. we’ve been working our asses off this entire season and I’m almost failing AP Chem. I need a break.” Our libero Hwasa commented.

The other wing spiker Mei strolled into the room “You guys it’s almost time coach is about to call us so can we decide this now?”

“Why don’t we make a bet.” The setter, Luci, calmly stated. Making sure everyone was paying attention she stated, “If y/n can score fifteen points this game then she doesn’t have to go, but if she doesn’t make the points then she has to attend. How does that sound?”

Everyone looked towards me to get the answer. “Fine. I’ll do it, but when I score a whole round don’t say anything. Come on ladies it’s showtime.”

“I shouldn’t have promised shit.” I grumbled when I found out I missed the mark by one point. All the other girls were screaming from enjoyment while I was beginning to sulk once I truly realized what I had gotten myself into. 

“Come on it’ll be fun I promise. You don’t even have to pay attention to Jeno, I'll be right there, we all will.” Joy expressed.

“Ok but when is the trip to hell?” I questioned already mentally putting together my outfit

“It’s next Friday. Ahhh I can’t wait, I'm so excited.” Chungha practically bounced on her feet. While I figured that it might not be that bad.

~

“I swear on my life that I will murder Jeno.” I exclaim while I forcefully throw my bag on the couch next to a startled Joy.

 “What did he do now?”  

“Ok so this morning had gone particularly well, I woke up early enough to do a bantu crown and fix my curls and not just wear a messy bun to class. I felt so good that I even decided to dress up for class.”, I say as I gesture to my outfit which consisted of a cropped hoodie with a tommy hilfiger sports bra and semi baggy pants with my tommy underwear band showing.

 “I was even able to stop for coffee and a cream cheese and ham bagel, I also sat down and talked to Jaemin and tried to express my concern for the coffee of the dead he was drinking at the time. That good mood went to shit when I got to my political science elective with Jeno.” I explained to Joy as what happened came rushing back to me. 

It was my second to last class and I was still thriving until he came in with his latest fangirl at his feet trailing behind him. The girl was desperately trying to get him to go out with him, he looked like he would do just about anything to get her to go away, and my dumbass made the mistake of snickering. He turned to me with a hard glare that would make anyone piss their pants and all of a sudden his eyes lit up like he had just figured out the key to life and not gonna lie that freaked me out. Before I could turn away he rushed over and dragged me out of my seat.

“I don’t want to go out with you because I’m already dating her.”

I whipped my head so fast that I’m surprised I didn’t break my neck. “What the hell you talkin’ bout willis?”

“There’s no way you’re going out with her for one and for two she doesn’t even know your name babe like who the fuck is willis.”

“Woah lady excuse me-”

“What the fuck you mean by I wouldn’t go out with her?” Jeno fumed, “I’d rather go out with her than your basic ass. Get the fuck away from me, now.” 

I stood there dumbfounded because I had never seen Jeno look so mad in my life, and I should know since I make him angry a lot, but before I could finish my thoughts Jeno did something that I would never imagine he’d do in my life. 

HE KISSED ME. 

All I felt were his soft lips against mine. His lips felt slightly cool yet so smooth. I found myself kissing him back slowly, losing myself(but I didn’t tell them that)-

“Woah he did WHAT!”

 “He kissed you, are you serious?” Joy and now Chungha, who had just made it back from work, exclaimed at the same time. 

“Yes he kissed me, but that’s not all.” I said while trying to get back to the story. 

He broke away and fixed his eyes on the girl in front of us, and he said something I couldn't comprehend and the next thing I know I feel something cold being poured on me and something plop on my hair.

“The bitch had poured her fucking drink and squeezed out her cupcake on my head.” I told them.   

I turn to Jeno with the fiercest look I could possibly mutter. “Do you realize how much I want to kill you right now?”, I all but yelled in his face, I wanted to say more but the teacher walked into class.  

“UGHHHH I promise if I didn’t love you guys I would so bail on this stupid get together.”

Chungha suggests having a movie night with all of the girls as a way to apologize. “Fine but since I have to wash my hair now you guys have to buy my products for me when I run out next time.” I point at both of them while staring into both of their eyes. 

“Deal.” They both agree.

~

Tonight is the night of the get together and even though I don’t want to go I’m gonna look good while regretting my life choices. I pin my hair to the side since I feel like that would go best with the vibe I have going on, then putting on my leather jacket that completes my outfit of a rose embroidered slightly cropped shirt and high waisted red elastic overalls with the belts hanging down, I start to head out of my room to meet up with Chungha and Joy in the living room.

“Ok are y’all ready so we can head out, I’m trying to get in and get out so that I can get this night over with.” I tell them as I pass both of their rooms, getting ready to walk out of the apartment. They both walk out looking fine as hell, and we all take a second to survey each other. Then Joy’s phone pings, “The girls said they’ll meet us at the boy’s place.”

“Ok someone get me directions. AUTOBOTS ROLL OUT.” 

~

Since we’re caught up now let's continue shall we?

 “Great so now that everyone is here, let's begin.” Donghyuck or as he’s better known on campus as, Haechan said seemingly being in charge of everything. To anyone else it would’ve seemed boring garnering that there were no drugs and alcohol because we were all athletes and were currently in season and there was no loud music to make your ears bleed, but it was enough for us. Not to lie it was actually quite fun as long as I pretended Jeno wasn’t there. I even saw Joy and Chenle cuddling in the corner of the couch.  

But after all of the karaoke and twister and card games had calmed down we were left in a calm silence, and I saw this as the perfect chance to try and leave. 

“So tonight was fun but I think I’m just gonn-”

“No, don’t leave yet, we haven’t even gotten to the best part.” Donghyuck smirked and started to walk to his room only to come back with a small box. “Anyone up for truth or dare?”

“Come on Hyuck really, how old do you think we are?” Renjun stated while looking up from his phone at Donghyuck.

He smirked evilly, “Oh no my son this isn’t regular truth or dare. See this has a catch and you’ll see once everyone agrees to play.” He states while daring everyone to say yes. A chorus of various forms of agreement are heard throughout the room. Donghyuck takes a seat while telling us all to get in a circle and he places a bottle in the middle. 

“You see these.”, he proceeds to shake the box in his hands, “These are dirty dice and if you refuse to answer a truth or do a dare then you have to roll them, and whoever gave you the question has to do what the dice say to you.” 

“Haechan what the fuck-”

“Oh come on Luci, if you want I could give you a dare right now and we could demonstrate how this is supposed to go?” He offers cunningly with a smirk. Everyone knows they used to hook up for a while back but for some reason they never got together, but the tension between them was almost palpable. 

“Ok I’m down.”

“Let’s do it.” Jaemin and Mei both agreed and glanced at each other. 

Hwasa offered to spin the bottle first and it landed on Chenle. 

“Truth or Dare?”

~    

Everyone has had a go at the bottle, and currently Jeno, Jaemin, and Mark are shirtless all for different reasons. Chenle and Luci have hickey’s up and down their necks(not from each other), everyone knows that Mei likes rough yet passionate sex, and Hwasa has had her boobs caressed by Mark. Also that if I was a boy and had to fuck one of the girls I’d fuck Chungha and Joy, and they both have had to kiss each other while Chungha was sitting on Renjun’s lap, so it’s safe to say that everybody is under immense amounts of sexual frustration. Donghyuck was currently in the process of completing his punishment.

“Ok Hyuck since you didn’t want to answer your truth then you have to let Luci lick whip cream off of your nipples because I’m sure as hell not about to.” Jeno says with a smirk and a nod in Luci’s direction. You could see the immense blush on both of their faces. 

“Uh-h-uhh” Luci stuttered.

“Just do it, I'm fine with it.” Donghyuck states with care and understanding in his voice while he sat beside Luci.

She hesitantly leaned toward him and slowly laid him down. She leaned over him and slightly let her tongue venture outside of her mouth and to the sweet white cream on his chest. The first couple of licks were sort of kitten licks due to the tension and the anxiousness in the room. Soon she made it past the whipped cream down to his nipple and she began to lick the access off and Donghyuck’s moans started to gradually increase in volume, until that was all that you could hear. His sweet whiny moans gave Luci confidence and let her know that she was doing a good job. And by the time she started to kiss her way over to the other nipple Donghyuck was whimpering and withering on the ground and you could see his boner start to form. The temperature in the room had increased exponentially by the time she had gotten done.

Mark cleared his throat, “Uhh Haechan do you uhm wanna go handle, that.” He said while gesturing to his boner currently poking through his pants, but he was too busy staring at Luci to listen to a word Mark was saying. Hyuck then stood up and grabbed Luci’s hand, “Come with me.” Him and Luci marched all the way back to his room where he slammed the door and all you could hear was our breathing. 

“Well that just happened so I think it's time- Woah what the fuck?” Chungha stopped talking and that made everyone pay attention to where she was looking only to see Joy and Chenle making out on the couch. Vigorously. Then soft grunts and moans were heard from Jaemin and Mei. ‘When the fuck did that happen?’ I think to myself. 

“Ok since all of you are some horny children I’m about to take my ass to Mark’s room goodnight.” Hwasa stated while she stood up and walked to Mark’s room, but what she didn’t know was that I saw her wink at Mark to which he claimed to have to ‘use the bathroom.’ 

So here I was stuck in the middle of sex crazed lunatics sexually frustrated as fuck with no one to do anything with, oh and did I mention I was stuck with Jeno.

“Fuck this I’m just about to head out, they can text me in the morning when they need to be picked up.”, I stated while getting my keys about to walk out the door, “I hope they use protection.” 

“Hey.” Jeno calls, “Let me go to your apartment.”

“What the fuck, no why can’t you stay here?”

“Because I won’t be able to get any sleep with all of this,” he gestures around the house, “going on.”

“Not my problem, bye.”

“Come on please.” He begs in aegyo.

“Ahhh stop stop now don’t do that bullshit again. Fine you can come just don’t ever do that I almost threw up.” I yell while grimacing.

“Thanks y/n you’re so kind.” He smiles with his eye smile.

Getting in the car and buckling my seatbelt I turn toward him and say, “Ok when we get to the house you can sleep in either Chungha or Joy’s room idc but just don’t say anything to me ok.” He nods his head and clicks his seatbelt. The entire drive back I was trying to be discreet while I rub my legs together. No matter how much I play it off, what went down at their house greatly affected me and now it was affecting my underwear, and Jeno’s cologne was not helping at all because it smelt so damn good and manly. I just hope he didn’t notice, all I have to do when I get to the house is just hop in the shower and then I can handle myself. 

“Hey y/n.” Jeno said out of nowhere scaring me. 

“What I thought we agreed not to talk to each other.” I said keeping my eyes on the road, but I could feel his eyes boring into the side of my head.

“When we get to the house do you want to continue the game?”

I almost swerve the car out of pure shock. ‘What the hell did he just ask me?’ And I don’t know if it’s because of the thrill of what he just offered or if it’s because I’m just that sexually frustrated and it’s making me delusional, but I pull up to the apartment building and once I park I look at him. 

“Why do you want to continue the game?” I questioned 

“I just want to, do you?” He looks at me with his eyes and what seems to be his heart on full display. 

“Fine.” I then get out of the car and walk toward the building and then proceed to walk up to the elevator. I notice Jeno is right beside me and we get in the elevator without a word and press the floor. We make it up to the apartment and I tell Jeno to turn around so that I can type in the password. Walking into the house feels as if I’m walking to my death and I get this feeling deep inside and it brings so much anxiety. 

“Ok lets continue.” I say to Jeno while I look at him.

“Truth or dare?” He questions while pulling the dice out of his pocket.

“Dare.”

“I dare you to masterbate right here right now.”

I think about it but then I just say ‘Fuck it.’ Pulling my pants down I nervously worm my hands down to my underwear and I immediately feel just how wet I am and that causes a moan to fly out of my mouth and I start to work myself up. 

Rubbing my finger around my clit I feel that little tingle that comes from it and it is enlivening. I feel myself get wetter over time and then the moans start to bubble up until they are uncontrollable.

 I feel like something is burning into and I realize that I got so into it that I forgot that Jeno was watching me do this to myself. I didn’t know I was this horny but I was too far gone. I had already started and I wasn’t gonna stop anytime soon. 

“Ahh f-fuck, Jeno mm truth or dare?”

“...Truth.”

I take my hand deeper into my underwear and stick a finger inside. The penetration although not much made my moans come out even louder and I wanted more, so I asked the unthinkable, “J-jeno do you want to f-fuckk me.” It was like I had set off a bomb that released him from his cage because the next thing I know he was all over me. 

“Fuck kitten it’s about time you asked.”

“H-hold up,” I slightly push him off, “Let’s get this straight, just because we’re about to fuck does not mean that I like you now. It just means that I need some dick and you’re the only one around at this very second, ok.” I say in between breaths. 

“Ok, whatever you say.” He states smugly 

“Fuck you.”

“Oh please believe baby, you’re about to do just that.”

He started to take off the rest of my clothes while kissing my neck until he found my sweet spot. “Ah yes r-right there please.”

He grabs the hand that was in my underwear and holds it up. 

“Damn kitten you’re soaked. Is this for me?” He states while staring me in my eyes.

“No.”

“Aw that’s too bad because maybe if it was you would’ve gotten a prize.” He says working his way down my neck to my breasts. He starts to slowly rotate them while putting gentle kisses around the nipple. 

“Hmmg stop teasing you asshole.”

“Baby, I don’t really think you’re in a position to tell me what to do.” He says while holding up his hand after running it up my slit. 

“Mmm like you have any room to talk.” I say while motioning to his clear erection. Deciding I’ve had enough of his shit I flip us around so that I’m on top. I look at his shocked face and say “You were taking too long for me.” 

I start to palm his dick over his pants while my other hand works on unbuttoning them.

“Shit that feels so good.” He says while slowly rotating his hips. 

I take my hands and push his pants and his underwear down at the same time, and when his penis pops up to slap his stomach which I then notice is bare my mouth slightly waters. I haven’t had sex in a long time because I’ve been too invested in college and volleyball, so to say that I would kill for some dick right now wouldn’t be too far off. 

I slip his dick in my mouth and start to give him possibly the best head of his life. If his high pitched yelps of my name say anything. 

“Ah-uh-h s-s-shit right there FUCK yes, suck that dick baby.”

I take my tongue and slowly caress his dick in my mouth from as far as I can reach to the very tip and I tease his slit. What my mouth can’t reach, I massage with my hands. Then I destroy his life by taking him all the way into my mouth bottoming out on his dick. 

I feel Jeno clutch my hair and tense up trying not to thrust into my mouth. 

“Y-you must be so hungry for my cock kit-kitten, you’re doing so well baby.” He says while rubbing my head 

I feel my spit building up in my mouth so I back off a little and swallow while still around his cock and he almost has an aneurysm. He immediately takes me from around his mouth. 

“Stop, if you had kept going I would’ve cum and I never cum that quick baby.” he says gingerly patting my head while looking into my eyes and running his thumb over my bottom lip. “Look at you kitten, you look so innocent, but with a mouth like that you’re anything but.”

I don’t know what it was whether it be his praises that sent shivers down my back or was it the way he was looking at me, but at that second I felt as if I was seeing him in a new light and it slightly scared me because I’ve never seen him in any other way than with hatred. 

He looked so beautiful with his freshly flushed face and his moans that still rung in my ears and the taste of his pre-cum still on my tongue. It was then that my mind decided to remind me of our kiss shared earlier this week and for the first time since it happened I didn’t get heated in anger but in somethin-.

 NO what the fuck am I thinking, I hate him and I’m pretty sure he isn’t feeling like this now just from some head. 

Y/n calm the fuck down. I look away from him as quickly as I possibly can and clear my throat, “Uh yea so can we just like move along please?”

I think he senses my change in moods but he doesn’t say anything. “Ok cool we can totally do that kit-”

 “Oh and can you also stop with the pet names.” He looked slightly hurt but agreed nonetheless. 

“Let's move this to the bedroom ba-y/n.” 

I can tell that what I’ve said has slightly ruined the mood but that won’t stop me, so as soon as we enter my room I push him onto the bed after I grab a condom from a shoe box under my bed.

 “I want to be on top.” I say while straddling him and rolling the condom onto him, and he agrees while stating that it’s whatever I want. I take his dick and rub my wet folds against his dick slowly grinding on it past my soaked hole but not yet putting it in and you can tell it’s pure torture for him. 

“Come on y/n stop teasing.”, and he slightly thrusts up as a warning.

“Mmh nope I don’t think I want to do that, this feels pretty ahh nice.” You could see the anger and irritation in his eyes. The next time you rub near your hole Jeno sits up and grabs your hips forcefully and slams you down on him basically impaling you. 

The whimper/scream that was forced out sounded downright inhumane in the most wanton way. You looked utterly fucked out right then and there and he hadn’t even moved yet. 

He slowly moved your hips to gyrate on him in an act of trying to get you used to the stretch before he lifted you up and slammed you back down again. 

“OH fuck baby, mmh shit you feel heavenly.”, he groaned in your ear smaking your ass, “You had me so fuckin’ twisted thinking I was just about to sit here and let you tease me like that and not strike back. Now you ride this cock like a good little kitten or I’ll make you do it myself.” 

You whimpered and proceeded to grind yourself against his pelvis. His dick reached spots that had never even been tapped before. You felt him everywhere. The encouraging kisses that he laid on your breasts followed by some of the darkest hickies you’ve ever had. Suddenly Jeno delivered a thrust that made you hop up and he kept giving them back to back nonstop.

“Yea my kitten likes that huh, I own this hole baby. Tell me who it belongs to.” 

When I didn’t answer he decided to take matters into his own hands. Next thing I knew he had me face down ass up giving me just about all the power he could muster in his hips.

“I don’t know if you heard me but let me repeat myself and this is the only time but I said who does this belong to.” He stated.

‘You’ 

I didn’t reply. When he didn’t hear an answer he stopped. “No, no no no ugh fuckk don’t stop please don’t stop.” I plead while working my hips trying to get some sort of friction. 

“No, you don’t get shit.” He said while starting to get off of the bed. 

“Why do you want me to say that so badly? Why can’t we just fuck this one time with no strings and then go back to hating each other tomorrow?”

“Because y/n I like you ok, hell I would even say love. Look I don’t know when hate started to turn into like, but once it did it was too late to do anything about it so I just kept playing along with you because that’s the only way you would talk to me.”         

“...mmsdhjvuyhm.”

“What?” 

“Midnfbvud.”

“What y/n I can’t understand you, look if you don’t like me back I understand but don’t do this and just let me go sleep in another room tonig-”

“I SAID, it’s yours- I’m yours..” I said looking away flustered. He walked toward me and held my head up and with his beautiful eye smile said, “And I’m yours.” 

He kissed me and it was as if nothing had ever felt as right as this, his lips moulded to mine. He proceeded to lay me down whilst still kissing me softly yet passionately. 

“Damn kitten you don’t know what you do to me. Now where were we?”

He inserted his dick into me and I swear it felt even better than last time. We kept eye contact while he moved in me, albeit slower, but each thrust left me wanting more and more. Something about this felt different then when we first started. I don’t know what it was but as my hands wandered all over his body feeling his protruding muscles and I looked into his gentle eyes that leaked nothing but love and I felt as if we were one. 

Grunting, Jeno asked, “ Is this enough for you baby, do you like the way I make love to you.”

 “Yes oh my god yes. It feels so good, I-I feel you in every part of me.”

“Fuck don’t say that...because I won’t be able to hold back kitten.”

“Who..was asking you to?”

At that Jeno started to roughly pound into me. His thrusts were so strong that I felt the bed moving with us. 

“Ffuck see this is what you do to me, you make me want to destroy you.” He grabs my ass so roughly that I’m sure there will be marks tomorrow.

“J-jen ahh I’m a-abou to uhghh cum.” I say barely being able to get my words out. 

“I’m almost there too baby just wait a sec.” He mumbles into my neck. I start to feel his pants and I feel his hips stutter. Clenching onto his arms, trying not to dig my nails so deep that it draws blood I lock my legs around his waist and squeeze my walls to help him get there faster. 

“Cum with me Jeno I can’t hold it any longer.” 

Jeno looks into my eyes and rubs his hand against my cheek and says,“Ok my sweet kitten you can let it go.”

It was as if my body was on cloud 11 and I didn’t want to come down. A broken scream was released from my mouth and I tried reaching for the closest thing I could find, anything, everything. 

Jeno thrusts one last time while cumming into the condom. He stands up off of the bed and walks over to the trash in my bathroom and ties the condom before throwing it away. Walking back to the bed he sees me get up and almost fall so he rushes over to help me. 

“What are you doing standing up right now? What is it I’ll get it for you?” he urges. 

“Uhh I’m pretty sure you can’t help me pee Jeno.” I chuckle in amusement. 

“Oh ok well just make sure to be careful.” 

I finish doing my business and make my way back to the room to see Jeno flicking through Netflix and it’s then that I realize that I’m naked so I try and hide myself so he can’t see. 

“I’m pretty sure that it doesn’t matter that I see you naked now since we did just have sex, and I’ll be seeing a lot more of you now that you’re my girlfriend.” He smirks while still scrolling, “But if you’re uncomfortable with that then I understand.” 

I clear my throat and make my way out of the room. I come back in with his shirt on and see his getting ready to say something until he sees me and then he blushes. 

“W-why are you w-wearing my shirt?” He stutters, not looking at my way. 

“Because I can, can’t I? Also I don’t ever remember you asking me to be your girlfriend, I’m waiting.” I smugly look in his eyes, “Look who’s shy now.” I say climbing into bed next to him.

“I- uhh.” He scratches the back of his neck out of anxiety. “Do you want to be my girlfriend?” He smiles nervously 

“I don’t know Jeno, why should I?” I say in an attempt to scare him, He simpers and turns to hover over me, “Because I just gave you the best dick of your life that’s why.” 

I look at him incredulously, “Some one’s cocky. Are you sure about that statement?” 

“Do I need to recall you begging me not to stop. ‘oHhH jEnO PlEaSe DoNt sToP aHH AhH-’”, I start to smack his arm and push him off of me trying to hide my smile. 

“Shut UP I swear, see that’s why I’m not gonna be your girlfriend.”

“Noo baby I’m sorry ok, please do me the honor of dating me I promise not to mock you again.” He says trying to stop laughing and giving me puppy dog eyes. 

“Hmph, you act like you didn’t want this, do I need to recall you huh?” He hurriedly shakes his head. 

Jeno looks down sadly and asks,“Are you really not gonna date me now?” 

I have no choice but to swoon at how cute he was and I can’t help but to question his duality. “Oh my god you’re so cute, and of course I’ll date you.” I say holding his face up to look at me, and I peck his lips for added assurance.

 “Ok let’s watch a movie. I wanna cuddle, I'm tired.” I say as I snuggle into his chest.   

[comphersjost]

Rendezvous ➸ Freddie Andersen

sorry for all the people that wanted mo first sksksks hope y’all enjoy this though!

words: 3k+

summary: You shouldn’t want your childhood friend’s teammate as much as you do, but Auston introduced you to him, so what are you going to do, not lust after him?

warnings: smut, dom!freddie, drugs, marijuana mention and use, alcohol, latina reader, spanish is translated in the parentheses and bold

masterlist

The first time you met Freddie was two weeks after you moved to Toronto. Meeting up with an old family friend of yours to make the move easier was something you were grateful for, but what you didn't expect was for Auston to drag you over to a too big, too loud group of his teammates and their partners. Freddie locked eyes with you over the rim of his glass and shot you a smirk, raising his drink to you before Auston tugged you the other direction to introduce you to even more people. 

Looking back you were grateful for the rapid introductions. He introduced you to a circle of friends through which you met more people, making Toronto seem less like the strange city you thought it was going to be and making it feel more like home. You didn't get a chance to speak to Freddie that night, caught up in the whirlwind of introductions to teammates and girlfriends and boyfriends and the blur of more people that it isn't until 2 weeks later that you really get introduced to him.

You're at Auston’s house for god knows what, he just said to come over. He texts you that the door is unlocked, so you walk in, already yelling at him in Spanish for forgetting to call his mom (which you heard from your mom, who heard it from his) and stop short in the foyer, 6 pairs of eyes blinking up at you and Auston laughing his ass off in the corner. 

“Uh, hi,” you say, giving an awkward wave, before narrowing your eyes at the dumb Latino boy you love too much for your own good, and his. 

You pick up an empty plastic water bottle from the table by the couch and toss it towards Auston’s head. “Cabrón!” (Dumbass!) you hiss at him, “Llámale a tu mamá. (Call your mother) And stop using plastic and get a reusable water bottle, you're killing the planet.” Auston only laughs, tossing the bottle back at you and falling short, the bottle landing in front of your feet. 

“Relax, I said I’d call her tonight,” he says smugly, before turning his attention back to the rest of the guys in the room. “Guys this is Y/N, she’s my family friend that moved to Toronto because she loves me- hey!” Auston puts his arm up to deflect the bottle you threw at him again. 

“I moved to Toronto for work, and also I hate you, thanks.” The disgruntled noise Auston lets out causes a smug smile to cross your face. 

“Whatever, anyways,” he grumbles, “You know Mitch and Willy, that’s Kappy, that’s JT, you met Morgan at the bar, and that’s Freddie.” Auston points at each man in his living room, grinning like he knows something you don't. 

You give them each a shy smile, your mouth going dry when you meet Freddie’s eyes. He smiles at you and says, “We’ve heard a lot about you. It’s nice to finally meet you.” And- 

Oh, fuck, you are so screwed. 

Freddie’s just, he’s a lot, with his pretty brown eyes and gentle hands and soft voice, and he quickly becomes the subject of many late night thoughts and fantasies. And really, he shouldn't be. He’s almost 9 years older than you and Auston’s teammate and probably so experienced and he’s so big and- 

You really shouldn't be thinking about him like this. But with his fiery red hair and his confident smirk and dark bedroom eyes glancing at you across the table at bars, it’s just, he’s a lot for you to handle. 

It’s three months after the day at Auston’s place that he catches you outside of a bar, opening his mouth to speak but stopping short to stare at the smoke rolling from your lips. You offer him the pen in your head but he only shakes his head, stopping beside you to lean against the wall. 

The wax clouds your head, and makes you bolder than you normally would have been. “C’mon old man, let loose a little,” you tease. “What, never been high before?” 

Freddie shakes his head lightly, a slight smile playing on his lips. “A couple times, a long time ago.” 

Against your better judgement, you lean into his arm, resting your cheek on his bicep while you take another hit from the pen. “What, it fucks with your lighting fast goalie reflexes?” you giggle, swaying slightly while your head gets even fuzzier from the combination of  alcohol and weed. 

Freddies hand comes up to rest against the side of your neck, shifting so he has you pressed against the brick wall. Your breath catches in your throat when he leans down to run his nose along your neck. “You're a brat,” he murmurs into your ear and you gasp quietly, before he pulls back to stare at you. You feel small under his gaze, squirming uncomfortably as he stares holes into your head. 

You can’t help it, movements seeming slow and cloudy when you cup the back of his neck and pull him down to meet your lips. Freddie groans against your mouth, his tongue soft against your lower lip. You whimper when his hand moves to grip your throat, the other resting on your hip. You grip his button up with the hand not in his hair, trying to drag him as close as possible. 

Here he was, the man who’s been at the center of your fantasies for months and you probably won't even remember this in the morning. 

Freddie’s hand tightens against your throat as he drags his lips down your jaw, a strangled moan escaping you when he scrapes his teeth across your pulse. He groans softly at the noise you make, sucking a dark mark into your skin before pulling back again. He cups your cheek, one hand covering almost half your face. 

“I-” he stops, squeezing his eyes shut before opening them again, “I should bend you over my lap.” 

It takes a moment for the words to register, but- 

“Oh.” Your stomach knots itself, the idea more appealing than you ever would have thought. Freddie. Spanking you. 

“But I can't.” You let out a disappointed noise, sticking out your swollen bottom lip in a pout. 

“Why not?” you say breathily, looking up at him with wide eyes. 

“Needy,” he chuckles darkly. He leans down again, tugging your lip out of the pout before kissing you softly. “You're crossed, sweetheart. Which is another thing is should punish you for. So reckless and needy aren't you?” 

You smile sweetly up at him, nodding and humming a soft, “Mhm.” You stand on your tiptoes to kiss him again, the hand that was on your throat leaving your skin to rest along your ribs. 

“Another time,” Freddie whispers against your mouth. 

You pout again. “Promise?” 

He laughs again. “Promise, baby.” 

- 

You wake up the next morning with your head pounding and your movements sluggish and slow. There's noise coming from the kitchen, and in your hungover and still-fuzzy state you don't bother putting on pants, padding slowly through your apartment in an oversized t-shirt you don't remember putting on. 

“You’re so loud,” you whisper to the giant man in your kitchen, squinting at the brightness of the lights streaming through the window.

Freddie smiles gently at you, “Good morning, sweetheart.” You shush him, reaching for the glass of water he offers you and taking sips as you climb clumsily onto the counter. 

“Did you sleep here last night?” you ask, voice hoarse and raspy. He nods. 

“You remember anything from last night?” Freddie murmurs as he moves around the kitchen searching for different ingredients. You groan softly as flashes from the night before return to you and your headache fades. The game, the bar, alleyway, weed, the kiss - I should bend you over my lap. Shit. You're eyes widen, and suddenly you feel sober, the fog in your brain gone.

“Um,” you stare at the ground, unwilling to meet his eyes. Your hand comes up to press on the bruise he left the night before, jerking it away at the sting.

“Hey,” he comes to stand between your thighs, tilting your chin up with two fingers. “It’s okay if you don't want - if you didn't mean it, you were crossed and I-” 

“I want it.” The words come out as a whisper, and your eyes slide up to look into his. “I want you.” 

Freddie’s smile is blinding. “Yeah?” he asks, leaning a little closer to you. You nod in response, your gaze dropping to his lips. 

“Yeah,” you breathe, before he closes the gap. 

You moan softly as he kisses you, with a semi-clear head, it feels better than you thought last night. Freddie’s hands come to rest on your thighs, squeezing them gently as he tilts his head to cover your mouth more completely. His tongue slides into your mouth and you whine, desperately trying to control the ache between your thighs. 

His fingers stroke along your thighs gently, gripping you so tight you're sure you'll feel it when this is over. One hand comes up to squeeze at your breast through your shirt and you break from him to gasp, arching your back, before he pulls your mouth back to his. He squeezes again before dropping his hand to your hip. You feel him groan more than you hear him when your hands tangle in his hair, tugging at it to pull his head back so you can drop your lips to his neck. 

“Can I mark you? Please?” you mumble against his neck, peppering kisses over his throat. Freddie hums his approval and you wiggle happily in his arms, sucking on the skin covering his pulse, ignoring his throaty moans until you're sure there's a big, purple mark on his pale skin. You hum against him again, burying your face in his shoulder when you speak again. “Can you spank me later? I just want you inside me.” 

Freddie laughs. A loud, happy laugh that has your heart feeling warm and fuzzy. 

“Got it,” he chuckles, “Fuck you now, spank you later?” 

You smile up at him, pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth. “Yeah,” you giggle, “I may be a brat but I can be good.”��

He kisses you again, voice suddenly going dark and low. “You can be as good as you want, sweetheart, I’ll still spank you and you’ll still like it.” 

Your lips part in an o-shape, and he grins wickedly and cups your jaw, sliding his thumb into your open mouth. You close your mouth around him, your tongue sliding against his thumb. 

“Good girl,” he mutters softly, his free hand sliding under your shirt to tug it towards your head. You whine when he withdraws his thumb from your mouth, but lift your arms obediently so he can draw the shirt off of you. Freddie’s hands cup your breasts and squeeze, rolling your nipples almost painfully between his fingers. You whimper softly and arch towards him, desperate for more contact, desperate for his cock. 

You reach for the bulge in his jeans, not at all surprised to find him achingly hard under your palm. “Freddie, c’mon,” you whine as he kisses along your jaw and you tug at his belt loops.

“Beg,” he hums against your skin, pulling back to stare down at you pointedly. 

“Please, Fred,” you plead, “C’mon, please.” He is face sharpens into a glare and you pout again. “Please, daddy? Please fuck me.” 

He smiles again. “Good girl,” he coos, before tugging your panties to the side and running his fingers through your folds. You gasp and whine at the action and grip his shoulder and hip desperately. 

“Please, please.” Freddie grips your hips and drags you off the counter, turning you around and bending you over it while pressing kisses to your shoulder. 

“Watch your head,” he murmurs against your back. You feel your heart flutter at the care he takes to make sure you don't hit your head against the cabinet even though he's about to fuck you. He drags your panties over your ass and down your thighs, letting you step out of them and kick them to the side once they drop to the floor. 

Freddie gives you no prep, and no warning except for the zip of his jeans, before the swollen head of his cock is nudging at your hole. You whimper softly at the first breach of his cock, hands grasping at nothing in a desperate attempt to ground yourself. 

“Yeah, that's it,” he groans against your neck, leaving another bruise as he inches forward. “You're gonna take all of it, aren't you? Gonna be a good girl for me?” 

“Yes, daddy!” you cry out as he continues to slide deeper inside you. There's a faint sting from being so stretched, but - fuck, you're finally full of Freddie just like you've wanted for three months and nothing has ever felt so good. 

You rest your cheek against the cool tile of the counter as his hips meet your ass, stilling for a moment to let you adjust to the size of him inside you. His chest is pressed against your back, lips landing on any spot they can reach, and he has one hand on your hip while the other circles your waist. 

“Good, baby?” he moans breathlessly, leaving another biting kiss on your shoulder. 

“Mmmmm,” you moan softly, pushing your hips back as if you weren't already so stuffed with his cock. “Sooooo good, daddy, please move, pleasepleaseplease.” 

Freddie drags his hips back for a moment before snapping them back into you, drawing a yelp from your throat. The sting of his torso on your ass is delicious, only adding to the sensations you're already feeling. You whine again as he grinds into you, as if he can't bear to withdraw from you for a moment. 

“Oh, fuck, baby, you're so good for me, you're so fucking tight.” Freddie’s voice sounds tight and restrained, as if he's holding back. 

You whine again, “Please fuck me, oh god, daddy, please, harder.” 

Freddie relents, the warmth of his skin against your back and aroung your waist disappearing as he stands straight to fuck into you. He places a hand in the center of your back, the other remaining on your hip, to keep you pinned as he rails you into the counter. 

The sounds leaving him are animalistic, predatory, and his cock hits spots inside you you never could’ve found on your own. You're whining, breathless, and you sound pornographic as you beg for more. Incoherent babbles of “Please, please, yes, ohhh right there, please, yes daddy, please” are the only words you're able to formulate, brain addled with the feeling of him and the fuzziness of last night’s substances. 

You scramble for something to hold onto, before Freddie reaches for your hand with one of his, tangling his fingers with yours and hunching over you again. 

“Fuck, sweetheart, you feel so good,” he pants against your back, pairing the words with another sharp thrust into you. The drag of his cock against your walls is almost too much, causing you to squirm under him, for more or less, you're not sure. 

“Freddie,” you gasp, pushing your hips back towards him. The blow to your ass that comes afterwards has you crying out and immediate apology. “I’m sorry! Daddy! Please, don't stop!” 

“Thatta girl,” he breathes into your hair. “Can you come for me, darling? Come on, I want you to come for me.” You try to reply but Freddie’s fingers slide to your clit and your eyes roll back, squealing at his relentless rubbing while he fucks into you. His voice comes out as a growl as he commands, “Come for me.” 

A scream leaves your lips as he pushes you over the edge, your cunt clamping down on his cock as your body jerks through your orgasm. Freddie forces his cock in and out of you as you clench down on him, but you barely hear the throaty noises he makes at the feel of you coming on his cock. 

“Baby, please, fuck can I -” Freddie chokes as you clench on him, “Can I come in - fuck -”

“Please,” you wail, “Please, inside, oh fuck please.” He lets out a long moan of satisfaction at your permission, forgoing sharp thrusts to instead grind against you before finally freezing as deep inside you as he can get. 

“Yesss, sweetheart, take it all, good girl, so good for me, take it.” The heat of Freddie’s cum inside you has you squirming through the aftershocks of your orgasm, his own high seeming to last forever as he keeps spilling into you. 

“Fuuuck,” you whine, all energy leaving your body when he collapses on top of you.

“You're so good,” he murmurs, kissing along your shoulder and neck and any part of your face he can reach. “You took it all like a good girl, good job, baby.” You moan happily at the praising, squeezing his hand in response. 

You squeeze your eyes shut as he draws out of you, the feeling of his cum dripping from your cunt following moments after his cock. 

“C’mere,” Freddie whispers gently, supporting your weak body off the counter and picking you up, before making his way to the couch. He sets you in his lap when he sits, pressing his nose into your temple and whispering sweet words to you as your eyes drift shut. “Okay baby?” 

“Mhm,” you mumble back. “So okay. More than okay. Fantastic. Amazing. We should’ve been doing that for months.” Freddie laughs, before shifting to lay on the couch with you on top of him, your back to his chest. He pushes your thighs apart, hand reaching between them to play with your cunt. 

“Fred!” You whine, trying to arch away from him. He hums against your neck, using his other hand to push your hips back down. 

“Let me make you cum, baby,” he says against your neck, and you can feel his smile against your skin. “Then maybe you’ll let me take you out? Breakfast or brunch or something?”

Your laugh is loud and happy, before turning into a moan when he slips two fingers inside you. “Yes,” you gasp, “Yeah you can take me out after this.”